Waking up this morning I knew it was a beach day! On my way to the beach I couldn’t help but notice there were not very many people walking through town. I thought it was because it was early. I was stopped by a boy who must have been 12, “Are you from Greece?”. Its official, I have been mistaken for a local! My dreams are complete. Much to my dismay, I replied, “No.” Looking up I could see his entire family of 5 was lost in Corfu. I then gave them directions to the Old Castle in Corfu Town. By the way, this whole conversation happened in Spanish. Im kinda loving this whole multiple language thing. It was the first time that I had heard Spanish sense departing from San Diego.
Walking down to the water, I found a great spot to get in. Do you know they charge 1.5 to get in?? Gross! It felt like a tourist trap. I mean who charges to get in the ocean? I gladly passed up that opportunity, climbed over some rocks, and found my own spot to get in. There was a group of local older women on the beach. The water was AmAzIng. There wasn’t much sand, just rocks. So the water wasn’t really enjoyable until fully in.
After basking in the sun, I headed back to the hotel. I felt completely out of place walking around in a swim cover up, while everyone else around me is in their Sunday best. Yep, they all just got out of church! Lovely! So, I finally figured out why there wasn’t very many people walking around in the morning. Whoopps.
Later, I walked through all the shops. Well, most of them. Lets be honest, Corfu is tourist-shopping heaven. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear there are more than 200 small shops just for tourists. But, some of them do have amazing talents. There was a free sample of Corfu Lemonade. Never again. I’m not sure what exactly I drank, but it wasn’t lemonade. It tasted like lemon juice mixed with a really cheap vodka-syrup concoction.
I am not an author. To be quite honest, I always hated English class. I write so I may share my experiences and remember the man I met on a bus who treated me to dinner with his family, paying and booking a hotel only to find out its out of business, fake crying in the Athens airport to get a ticket home, or remember the strangers who looked out for me on a bus. Some live, experience, and are fulfilled by what’s in their backyards. I find there is something truly exhilarating about cramming as many possessions into a bag as possible, only to complain you brought too many. This is my life out of a suitcase, hope you enjoy.