Health Journey: Fiona Goes to Corfu, Part 1

I feel at peace here, but also lonely: not the loneliness of not having people to talk to, but a sort of universal loneliness that seems to stem from being 44 and single, and I don’t know what the future holds. I have started to notice changes to my body: my hair and nails are growing faster, and my psoriasis has completely vanished. The lack of stress, the walks, and my Spartan diet of Greek yoghurt, Greek salads, beans, tuna and nuts and honey are helping. The only anxiety I have now is about money, so I am starting to look for a part time job on the island (which, without a car or scooter is not easy, but I can’t afford my transportation. ) But, when I wake up in the morning and don’t feel exhausted any longer, or manage to make my way up steep hills in the sun without collapsing, and see how my face looks less puffy, I know that leaving my job and the regular paychecks was a good idea.

Now, in this extreme heat, I think about how cold it was last month, and how, on my way home after my walks in the evenings, I would stop off at the local “kafeneion”, the men’s café. This is an institution where women still are not really welcomed, a bastion of Greek (and Albanian) men from 19-90 years, who gather each night to talk about politics, drink coffee and ouzo, play pool, and smoke heavily. I had forgotten how much the Greeks smoke, and by 7.30pm the café would be a haze of cigarette smoke wafting under fluorescent lights. After a quick brandy to warm me up for the walk home (I am not a drinker but the brandy has become a ritual) in the dark, I would leave behind my new admirers: two charming 23 yr olds who were either desperate after the long, rainy winter or were into mind older women; the ex-mayor of Pelekas, a sleazy old man with swept back grey hair and a red Alfa Romeo; and a sweet and handsome 29 yr old called Yiannis.

I find out that there is a rumor in the village that I have come here to find a husband, because I am alone and have arrived very early, but a Greek husband is the last thing I need. However if you are single, female, and in need of some attention, I recommend visiting a Greek village before the tourist season starts. Not only am I getting more compliments than I’ve had in years, I only have to walk down the street and my new “boyfriends” are shouting my name telling me how beautiful I am.

After a few weeks this attention becomes annoying, but it’s ironic. In San Diego I was all but invisible. Here in Corfu, surrounded by stray dogs, the donkeys and the wildflowers, and my Greek admirers, I am the Cindy Crawford of Pelekas.

Read Part 2

Copyright 2003, Fiona Klonarides. Reprinted with permission. Originally published online.