Many parts of Corfu are hard to resist; topping the list of my favorite things to indulge in here so far has been the silence. Besides a few birds calling from the tall pine trees and a few swallows chirping as they dart through the sky the only noise is the occasional cough from a motorbike or Suzuki as it rounds the steep hills and lazy corners of the island.
Quickly, one comes to appreciate the island from behind the wheel. The silent roads inch past dilapidated villas where potted plants spill off the balconies and sun-faded paint peels from the wear of the sun and gentle weight of the years.
Wine bars, family taverns, and cafes house people at all times of day. It’s hard to imagine coming to Corfu to work full-time, it seems one would fit in better spending hours of each day sitting, eating, and drinking. To be in a hurry is a waste and there's joy is in being present - satisfaction found in the common spaces of the island. As full as these common spaces always seem to be, they too are spaces of silence.
Walking down the harbor as the sun fades, swimmers take a final dip in the sea; a man goes out into the water to indulge in solitude. There is an intimacy between people and sea; a relationship; a feeling of coming home. It’s almost too personal of a moment to watch; so, naturally, I look away.