The world from my window

Artemis the Dog should have been called Chewy, really. Not as in Chewbacca , although she looks very like a Wookie. But Chewy as in, well, chewy . These were my best boots. Lovely.  Now look at them, along with Mr Grigg's best shoes. At eighteen months, she's still a puppy. 'They take a long time to mature, Korthals Griffons,' says the dog trainer. 'How long?' I ask. 'Oh, about ten years.' Even here, perched in our eyrie on our Greek village (cue excuse to show photos of Agios Magikades), she is still up to her old tricks. After an encounter with a pair of my grand-daughter's beautiful golden butterfly sandals... ...we've improvised a storage place for shoes. It's one of the door grilles, which we point out to everyone who comes to stay. When things are out of her reach, she just can't be bothered. She'll sit in the plateia, the locals making a fuss of her. 'Artemi, Artemi,' they...

The incense hits my nostrils as soon as I enter the church. We're at the back, listening to the chanting. The candle-style light bulbs in the chandeliers overhead give the interior of this church an ethereal glow. The air conditioning's on and it's much cooler in here than it is outside in the plateia . Just before nine, big blotches of rain turn into a downpour. The people who, seconds ago were sitting on the kafenion tables around the plateia , huddle inside and under the awning. And then the rain stops, the bells clang and the parade through the village begins. Up to the next church we go, in one door and out the other side, and then up to the top church and the cemetery. Votive candles glow in the churchyard and people peel off from the parade to pay their respects to family buried in ornate graves. And the parade returns, past busy tavernas and open-mouthed tourists who can't believe their luck in coming across such an interesting tradition. We sit outs...

We've got a table reserved for four and we're in poll position. Once we've feasted we'll be out of the starting blocks and sitting on the wall overlooking the beach. We're in Paleokastritsa in north west Corfu and we're getting ready for the Varkarola. I've blogged about it before and all the background you need to know is right here . I am a sucker for ancient mythology and the story of Odysseus is one of my favourites Tonight, it's a re-telling of one of the hero's many adventures on his ten-year journey from Troy to the kingdom of Ithaca. In the bay at Paleokastritsa, to the soundtrack of 1492: Conquest of Paradise by Vangelis, he has a massive fight with Poseidon, the god of the ocean, played by a diver who pops up from nowhere out of the sea and then sets Odysseus' raft alight. Odysseus is shipwrecked and surprises the Phaeacian princess, Nausikka, who had been playing on the shoreline with her handmaidens after doing their washin...

It's been hotter than a hot thing in August since we arrived in Corfu. I don't like moaning but it's been too hot. Some of the time, there's just been no air. The pressure's been closing in on my head. It felt like a balloon in a vice. I didn't like it. Then yesterday morning, as the sun came up over the olive groves, you couldn't see the sky, just the outlines of cypress trees on the horizon. Storm clouds were gathering. We had a quick frappe in an empty plateia while Arty gave the local cat population a good talking to. Two friends didn't have much to say to her though when we came home. Arty could tell there was something in the air. And then it came. That's about it. Love Maddie x