The world from my window

In Kerkyra, the holidaymakers have packed up and have gone home. Direct flights will, for the winter months at least, be a thing of the past and we will need to go via Athens if we want to get back to the Enchanted Village. Tavernas are closed, tables and chairs are stacked up in the corners. In Corfu Town, gift shop prices have been slashed in the old town. Novelty olivewood products, ancient Greek erotic calendars and evil eyes try to charm the visitors from the cruise ships as the tourists wander around, idly, not sure if they will, not sure if they won't, thank you very much. The pace is much slower. Even the boy racers have stopped racing. The smell of woodsmoke replaces the sweet and sour smell of old drains. The nets are out beneath the olive trees, in case any olives should drop before the harvest in a few months' time. Like the UK, the clocks have gone back. We are still two hours ahead but it gets darker much earlier. But the sea is still warm. Beautiful...

The month here is hurtling towards its end and Halloween, the Witch's New Year. A time when the veil between past, present and future is oh so thin. So thin you might just be able to see beyond into the other world. Here in Agios Magikades, as in many other Greek villages, the dead have the best view of all. No trick or treaters, I hope. For this is the land of ancient magic, where Thessalian witches drew down the moon and people still believe in charms to protect against the evil eye. More of that later in the week, perhaps. But today, as the clocks went back, Greece recalled a less ancient and more modern history. Here in Corfu, war memorials, public buildings and village squares were awash with Greek flags. There were marching bands and recollections of stronger, firmer times when in October 1940, the prime minister Ioannis Metaxas said  'ohi ' to Mussolini's ultimatum on an Italian occupation. It brought Greece into the war on the allied side and 'No...

We finally arrived on Monday, after a week's delay. Mr Grigg shaved off his Hemingway beard, our good luck ran out and we broke down again in Italy, the day after a white-knuckle ride through the Mont Blanc Tunnel. No laughing matter After half a day waiting for Marco the mobile motorcycle mechanic to fix Bella the Beetle, we pressed on, the car coughing and spluttering, lurching and lumbering as it followed Mr Grigg in his Land Rover work-horse. I said five hail Marys the next morning and the next, even though I'm not a Catholic. I prayed to Zeus, Hera and anyone else on Mount Olympus who was listening. The flag on the ferry Eleni unfurled as we sighted Corfu. Flying the flag And here we are. Lots to do, lots already happening and, one way or another, I'll be sure to keep you posted. But one of our first ports of call was the daily market in Corfu town.   Oh, and here's the new world from my window. That's about it. Lo...

There is only so much miserable weather I can take during our enforced stay in Jura on our Beetle drive to Corfu. Still, if we're here for the Juration , while we wait for the dynamo and regulator to be fitted to the old VW by a Renault garage where they speak very little English, there is always wine, history, natural splendour and food. There's a bit of writing to be done, and catching up on admin. And the good news is that the weather is bad, too, in The Enchanted Village. And then there are always books. And what a diverse collection. I have just read The Curse of Brink's Mat , the inside story of the 20th century's most lucrative armed robbery, and loaned to me by ex-detective Nobby Odd-Job. Then it was over to the charming The  Cat of Portovecchio by my friend, Maria Strani-Potts (highly recommended if you want to immerse yourself in a Corfu fishing village in the 1950s), and I've just downloaded School Ties , a novella by...

So we're in a French gite, right, where we've been licking our wounds for the past four days after car trouble in Jura. We have to wait until Tuesday for a new dynamo to arrive from the UK after the Renault breakdown garage said it was 'impossible' to mend. The man from VW Heritage says otherwise, and we are crossing fingers, arms, legs and toes and anything else we can find. We want to set off for Italy on Wednesday. We will be approximately a week late at our destination, Corfu. When Bella the old Beetle shuddered to a halt, it was as if she'd been saying: ' Enough, for goodness sake. I need to rest my weary springs. Just a short break will be fine, and then I'll be back on my tyres again.' So we checked into the Hotel Charmless, made bearable by the lovely receptionist, who was manning the fort while the owner and cook were away (together? A French tryst maybe?), and her eight-year-old son who was ready for bed in his Spiderman pyjamas. ...