Sticking to a strategy
As our liner sails into the harbour we are treated to grand views of not one but two fortresses. The grandchildren are all agog. We will decide whether to visit either one or both depending on how accessible they are from the port.
A complimentary shuttle whisks us into town where we grab a tourist map — though we all know it’s more of a suggestion than a plan. We’ve never been the “checklist” kind of travelers. The real joy lies in wandering, in straying into side streets and rejoicing in the soul of a place beyond its famous landmarks. With only a few precious hours, we execute our usual strategy: go furthest first, then drift back slowly toward the ship. After all, missing the boat would be a story we don’t want to tell.
We could walk to the fortress, but the day is already warming up, the sun climbing steadily. Why not make the journey part of the experience? A nearby bus stop offers the perfect excuse. A small group of locals waits there, their smiles warm even if their English is limited. Somehow, with gestures, laughter, and a bit of help from the grandchildren, we piece together the bus route and fare. The short wait feels longer for the little ones, who fidget with anticipation.
History and vistas
Soon enough, we’re on our way — and in less than ten minutes, we arrive at the Old Fortress.
Crossing the narrow bridge into its walls and then through tunnels and up and down stairs feels like stepping through time. The air shifts, quieter somehow, as if the past still lingers here. Built by the Venetians, the fortress stands as a silent witness to centuries gone by. We climb higher, drawn upward by curiosity and the promise of the view. And what a view it is.
From the top, the world stretches out in breathtaking layers — a sea of terracotta rooftops glowing warmly under the sun, set against the dazzling blue of the Aegean. On a day like this, clear and bright, we’re told you can even glimpse Albania across the water. We also have a view of the New Fortress sitting on the other side of town. The climb there seems hazardous. A flint and brick path we would have to negotiate if we had the time and energy left.
Venetian and British
Within the venetian complex is a building with a six-column facade. This is St George's Church built in 1840 to meet the religious needs of British soldiers who served in Corfu.
War and peace
Right next to the Old Fortress entrance is the Boschetto Garden. Several semicircular stone benches are surrounded by a colonnade, and busts and statues of prominent historic figures, including poets and writers. The benches in the welcoming shade and greenery with views of the blue sea are occupied by a few elderly couples reading and enjoying the breeze. A picture of serenity beside a fortress that reminds us of wars.
Spianada Square and Liston: British and French
As we walk towards the old quarters we cross Spianada Square. Here palm trees sway in the breeze. The spray from the fountains cools us. The cricket, yes cricket, field is a large open expanse. Apparently it is the largest square in Greece and the Balkans. The open space is an invitation to both locals and visitors to gather along the Promenade.
Now we are led to the elegant Liston arcade. The elegant vaulted galleries, colonnades, house cafes and restaurants are unmistakably Parisian. And, yes, it was built during the French rule and modelled after Rue de Rivoli..
We stroll over to a grand, regal building with an important looking gateway on the side. The verandah of the building is colonnaded throughout. The signage tells us we are at the Museum of Asian Art. And where is it housed? In the stunning Palace of St. Michael and St. George.
The impressive neoclassical palace was built during British administration. I've been told that the collections range from Chinese ceramics to Japanese prints. The side gateway surprises us as it opens into the palace gardens and offers a shaded retreat with spectacular sea views.
Are we trespassing?
Suddenly all is quiet. We've strayed into the roads left untravelled! We are right in the middle of a courtyard with a quiet vibe. Surrounding us is a maze of narrow alleys, stone staircases,shaded squares. The old pastel coloured buildings with their weathered shutters, cute balconies and hanging laundry add a touch of a movie set. Are we inadvertently walking into people's backyards? Not at all. These are actually public walkways.
Those were the days: UNESCO world heritage site
And then we are practically at the labyrinthine old town. Each narrow alley leads to another. Venetian buildings with their characteristic ochre and sienna hues stand alongside neoclassical mansions. The town is so compact that we head straight to the main walking street. But we have to get back to the ship. There are so many churches, and little time left that we have to choose. Our selection is Saint Spyridon Cathedral Holy Church of Saint Spyridon which wowed us with its painted ceiling.
A quick look at the market is all I hope for now. The variety of shops offering local crafts, souvenirs, and traditional products are enticingly set against historic buildings. Strolling through the lively stalls,we immerse ourselves in the local atmosphere
Adio Corfu: Have mouth will ask
Dizzied by the maze and the attractive display of souvenirs we’ve completely lost our bearings. We probably need a bus back to the ship… somewhere, somehow. According to fragments of our sense of direction, we are actually close to the New Fortress—which, naturally, is a long, long way from the ship. At this point, “lost” is an understatement.
. Plan A kicks in: One grandson bravely approaches a man smoking outside a cafe. Hesitant, he asks for advice. The man—hefty, jolly, and smelling of smoke—throws an arm around the grandson’s shoulder. Panic flickers: will we be invited for a smoke or . . .? We know from previous experience that Greeks are very hospitable. We may be hard put to turn down an invitation.
Animated gestures follow: fingers point, hands wave, eyebrows jiggle and laughter crackles forth . After several tension-filled minutes, we are reassured—somehow—that the conversation is going well. Maybe the man was giving directions… or maybe just entertaining himself. Either way, we wave our thanks.
And just like that, our Corfu adventure ends: equal parts confusion, courage, and comic relief.
We wave. We trust in the kindness of strangers… and that’s how our Corfu adventure ends: confused, amused, and much closer to the ship than when we started
As we sail away the view sums up why Corfu is a popular holiday destination. The mountainous terrain, cypress trees, olive groves, crystal clear seas and excellent weather add to the rich multi-cultural heritage(Byzantine, Venetian, French and British) lending it a vibrancy.
