Corfu versus Dorset: a sense of place
Funny thing, homesickness. Back in Lush Places, the soggy, syrupy mist swoops down all of a sudden and I want to grab hold of it. It's my security blanket, wrapped around me, as I gaze at water droplets on sodden and bare trees and rotten cider apples lying on the ground. I love this place. And the sunlight bounces off the bantams' backs as we pack up and get ready to go back to Corfu. Even in winter, when Dorset's Enchanted Village is up to her neck in fog, in my head it's the theme music to A Summer Place . 'Who do you miss the most?' my friend Tuppence asks. I have to think. My family, my friends? But, no, it isn't a single person. It's the place. For the first three months of living in Corfu, guilt has picked me up and dropped me down again as I fight the urge to go home. Who wouldn't be happy in this lovely place, this lovely island of Corfu, with its beautiful, kind people and wonderful scenery? 'It's just the way yo...