Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

A tale or two : Zakynthos (Zante)

 
The harbour at Zante town- pale and interesting?

The harbour at Zante town- the quintessential shot

Travelling around the Greek Islands on ferries, I regularly encountered families cheerfully hopping on board, the youngsters tote-ing their mini backpacks.   I truly admired them, but wasn’t sure how well equipped I’d be to cope with the “joys” of new motherhood on the move.  Still, I was desperate to get back to Greece after a wet week by the Crinan Canal had reminded me that Scotland is very beautiful.  But wet!

Zante seemed like a good family-friendly place to start.  Sitting in the Ionian Sea, the island was ruled by Naples and then Venice in the period from 1185 right up to 1797, with just 5 years of Turkish rule breaking things up.  Italian influence was such that the wealthiest families sent their sons to Italy to be educated.  My James wouldn’t have minded.  He was always a pasta boy!

Unfortunately the island sits right on a fault line and in 1953 four huge earthquakes reduced most of Zakynthos to rubble.  The rebuilding used strong antiseismic measures, very necessary as there have since been numerous tremors, including an earthquake swarm in 2006.

Fairly oblivious to all this, we occupied the beach at Tsilivi and it was back to the days of sand pies.  It was no great hardship.  Michael and me were by nature beach bums!  If James was happy… you know how it is!

The beach at Tsilivi

The beach at Tsilivi

Except that you know I always had my restless streak!  So after a day or so of exploring the immediate vicinity, I was seeking broader horizons.  A trip to Zante town on the bus was quite straightforward, but to go anywhere else on the island meant route-ing through the capital.  Not so good with a sometimes fractious toddler.  It was late September and still hot.

Compromise meant joining an organised island tour, a pleasant day out which also gave our skins a bit of a rest from the sun.

A little culture was introduced

A little culture was introduced

Of course, there were distractions for James

Of course, there were distractions for James

The stork seemed quite interested too

The stork seemed quite interested too

Then it was time to eat

Then it was time to eat at Cape Skinari’s waterside restaurant

We hopped back on the tour bus just as the clouds blew in

We hopped back on the tour bus just as the clouds blew in

You know it was back to the beach for a day or two after all that!  I always had my nose in a travel book and the little resort of Kalamaki sounded appealing.  A taxi into Zante town and a bus didn’t sound too hard.  Did I tell you that James had a preoccupation with hosepipes?   You can guess what the highlight of his trip to Kalamaki was.

A lot of hose

A lot of hose

I had just one more outing that was crying out to be made.  I couldn’t come all this way without venturing to Kephalonia, the largest island in the group.  It might make a good base for another year!

It was, in fact, my favourite day of the holiday, although a long one.  Waiting for the bus at 7.45, James was still snuggled in his pyjamas.  From Zante, a 2 and a quarter hour ferry crossing took us to Poros.  A very smart resort, with a lovely promenade, from there it was up through beautiful mountain scenery to a monastery.  My floral shorts were not at all the thing, so I was draped in a scarf and floor length skirt to look the part.

The  Drogarati Cave next, and then the highlight of the trip- the Melissani Lake, in Greek mythology the cave of the nymphs.  The boat sailed into the cave and natural light poured in through the huge circular hole in the roof.

My postcard of the Melissani Lake

My postcard of the Melissani Lake

And the Drogarati Cave

And the Drogarati Cave

On to Argostoli, one of four main harbours on this large island.  By this time we were all wilting, but I left Kephalonia, as I often do, wanting to see more.  There are various spellings of Kephalonia, but I’ve gone with the Wikipedia one.  If you follow the links you can find out much more about these enchanting islands.

Kephalonia's stunningly beautiful scenery

Kephalonia’s stunningly beautiful scenery

The quay at Argostoli

The quay at Argostoli

The island of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin remains for me an untarnished memory.  Our first Greek family holiday was a resounding success.

The Booker Award

This has to be the scariest award I have ever received.  There is so much potential here to fall flat on my face.  Not that it’d be the first time, but I only have to look at the other recipients to tremble in my boots.  Madhu, whose work I revere, has nominated me, alongside The Wanderlust Gene and Jo Bryant.  How intimidating is that?  Or maybe I mean inspiring?

Reading the small print, “for those who refuse to live in the real world”- well,  I can certainly relate to that.  Such a cruel and heartless world it can be.  There’s every reason to escape into fantasy.  The nightly news horrifies me.  Why can we not live in peace and harmony?  Our minds are capable of so much that is amazing.  Why then are we so prone to destruction?  Naive I know, but I don’t understand it.

I couldn’t, hand on heart, describe my childhood as a happy one, and books were always my preferred means of escape.  The difficulty I find as I grow older is that my powers of recollection struggle.  Even books that make an enormous impression on me are hazy in the detail just a few weeks after reading.  So this award filled me with both joy and dread.

My solution?  Like Alice, I’m off to a fantasy world. I could so easily be the White Rabbit, scurrying along with never enough time.  I’m sure many of the nuances of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” were lost on me, but it is the ultimate in escapism.

Croquet on the village green

Oh my ears and whiskers, I’m late!

Growing up, I loved Kenneth Grahame’s “The Wind in the Willows”, of course, and Louisa Alcott’s “Little Women”. Graham Greene and Hemingway found me next.  Loving travel as I do, it’ll come as no surprise to find that I’m drawn to books with exotic backgrounds.  Thus it was that I found myself in Afghanistan with Khaled Hussein’s “The Kite Runner”.  I was swept along with Amir, on his quest for redemption, in a world of which I had no conception.  I guess that what I look for most in a book is an insight into, and hopefully a little understanding of, another world.  It’s not always a happy journey.  I found Dave Boling’s brilliant “Guernica” harrowing, no less so for its being based on real life events.  Escapism doesn’t always work out well.

Markus Zusak, however, held me enthralled with “The Book Thief”.  Making Death a narrator, sympathetic to humankind, was pure genius in my view. It seemed so appropriate in book burning, hatred filled Nazi Germany. The book is a real celebration of both the power of the written word, and the human spirit. I loved it.

“Some like it Hot”, iconic 50 years after her death- Monroe courtesy of Wikipedia

When I discovered Joyce Carol Oates I was stopped in my tracks by her formidable writing talent.  To me a great writer expresses things I would want to say, but don’t have the means.  Joyce Carol Oates has this in abundance.  I cannot conceive of writing a book such as “Blonde”, however drawn I am to the legend that was Marilyn Monroe.  Neither could I envisage penning “The Gravedigger’s Daughter”.

How am I doing?  I had to list my five favourite books for this award.  Not so easy, is it?  I’m going with the ones in bold, and that still leaves me one to choose.  I am an unashamed romantic, and “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin”,  by Louis de Bernieres, gets my last vote.

Rugged Kefallonia

“What is left when the passion is gone” is how Pelagia’s father describes love.  It certainly has a lot to endure in the case of the Captain and his lady.  I saw the film before I ever read the book, and was quite happy to picture Nicolas Cage as my hero.  As always happens with a great book, it was better than the film, and truer to life.

If you followed the link to Madhu, you’ll be aware that I’m about to pass the Booker Award on to five more readers.

Just Add Attitude  As blog names go, this is a nice one, and I’ve enjoyed finding out about B’s love of London, Paris and Dublin (her native city).  Now to find out which books she likes?

Writing between the Lines Naomi is an inspiring writer and photographer whose warmth and affectionate nature shines through between those lines.

Colline’s Blog is “a potpourri of thoughts and experiences”, in her own words.  I’d like to hear more.

Travel with Kat  A true world traveller is Kat, with an interesting past and an absorbing present.  I hope she can find the time to accept this.

Read Me If you look at Patti’s blog it will immediately become obvious that she’s another Alice fan (and I don’t mean Cooper).  We both have two children with a huge gap between them.  I wonder what else we might have in common?

Thank you Madhu, for sharing this with me, though like your friend Rommel, I have my doubts.