A quiet stop-over in Corfu's sin city
Down through the island, along a back road purporting to be something bigger, the smoke from bonfires wisps up into a crisp, blue sky as people clear the ground below the olive trees in preparation for the harvest. A middle-aged woman with a strimmer waves to a older man with a small truck full of clippings. The nets are laid out. A smell of autumn is in the air, although the days are warm and, for us, hot enough to swim. Lefkimmi, Corfu's second town, is dozing and, down by the river, the mullet swish along the murky water in front of closed-up tavernas. An old widow in black, with a scarf on her head for protection from the sun, can barely walk when standing. But, on her hands and knees with a hoe, she is making good progress on cleaning the soil. Further down the road, young men, sitting in leather and raffia chairs, drink iced coffee in an incongruous cafe bar, looking out across an odd architectural mix. Work is for the old. A police 4 x 4 cruises up and do...