Bound together
Sarah Standing goes with her book-club friends to Corfu Ivitnessing me overcome my fear of flying on a recent trip to Corfu must have given the members of my book club a long overdue dose of schadenfreude. Ten years ago, when we first formed our monthly meetings, I made a vapid, sexist remark that they've rightly never let me live down. I said my biggest nightmare was to be piloted by a woman. For along with adhering to various quirky superstitions before boarding, I find it imperative to bond with my Captain. I listen to him welcoming me on board with a reverence normally reserved for an audience with the Pope, my panic levels entirely determined by the timbre of Richard/Geoffrey/Colin's voice.
However, last month I succeeded in flying cold turkey. No drugs, no alcohol — I didn't even wear my lucky knickers I think I must have been so buoyed up by the excitement of going away with five girlfriends for a four-day break I simply forgot to be frightened. It wasn't until we actually landed and I heard Margaret's voice coming over the Tannoy that I realised I'd been set free.
Actually, I'd been set free in more ways than one. For the first time since I was a kid at school I was going on a 'girls only' outing. Despite the fact that only half the members of the book club were able to escape for this much-anticipated mini break, we made for an exceptionally tight, compatible gang. Husbands and children always seem to want to make extensive plans on holiday; the joy of going with six girlfriends was the total lack of an agenda. Pre-renting a minibus at the airport and teetotaller Louise volunteering to drive were the extent of our forward-planning. From then on, we happily made no plans whatsoever except to thoroughly enjoy ourselves and hopefully get around to actually reading the book (William Boyd's Restless) we had ostensibly come to discuss. We cruised along the coast road heading towards Nissaki without even bothering to buy a map — surely a veritable act of heresy in any man's eyes — stopping only to briefly admire the Venetian architecture of Corfu Town and to buy a case of Boutari Sec Rosé and some food for supper.
Celestia's magnificent house, Katavolos, is set high in the hills surrounded by olive trees. With expansive views of Greece and Albania to the east and Corfu Town to the south, it is one of those glorious villas that epitomises understated chic.
The day we arrived was one of those picture-perfect May days; unexpectedly hot with cobalt-blue skies and the promise of a long summer looming ahead. We sat outside with our faces turned towards the evening sun in semi-disbelief that we had managed to carve away four days of hedonistic relaxation.
Corfu in May is a proper paradise. It is the greenest of all the Greek islands, and there are still many Dun-ellesque time-warp areas that remain staggeringly unspoilt — indeed untouched — by tourism. Out of season and off the beaten track, it offers a wild and lush landscape with some of the most naturally beautiful beaches I've ever seen. We ate at Taverna Agni on Agni beach two days in a row. Built in 1851 and run by the same family ever since, it is a charming and unpretentious gem of a restaurant. We sat for hours beneath the dappled shade eating fresh grilled sardines and salads before flopping on to the beach for an afternoon siesta and swim. One night we got vaguely dressed up and ventured off to an incongruously smart establishment that had 'baked young cock' on the menu and mystifyingly overpriced dripping as a main course. On another, we drove high up into the mountains to the deserted town of Old Perithia, where we sat beneath the stars eating simple, locally grown food and were mesmerised by the display of fireflies flitting across the night sky.
We rented a boat for the day and, as totally inexperienced and inept sailors, hugged the coast and headed to San Stephanos for lunch, dropping anchor midway for a bracing dip.
When I started the book club, I deliberately picked the members from a circle of acquaintances. I thought that to choose close friends would somehow be inhibiting and unproductive. Fact is often stranger than fiction though, and a decade on we have developed a sisterhood of true, dependable, deep friendship and love. After the success of Corfu I can envisage many more holidays spent together. Take me to the (female) pilot any day.
Tavema Agni: www.agni.gr.
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