Come the Revolution – Alex Mitchell
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Discovering a region – and a writer
The Mani is the long peninsula, like the middle prong of the Peloponnese trident, stretching down into the Mediterranean between the Aegean and Ionian seas. We’ve parked ourselves like true Australians on its coastal fringe, at the northern, most accessible end, and are only just beginning to explore it. One who knew the area intimately…
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Paddy’s gift to the nation stalled
When Sir Patrick Leigh Fermor, the swashbuckling adventurer, travel writer and war hero, died just over a year ago he bequeathed his magnificent residence at Kardamyli on the coast of the Peloponnese to the Greek people. (See previous online despatch “Where Paddy meets Bruce”, 6.7.12, plus photos on Facebook). In his last will and testament…
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Where Paddy meets Bruce
A 70-minute drive south to Kardamyli on a divine mission to pay tribute to the extraordinary accomplishments of two Englishmen, now departed – Patrick Leigh Fermor and Bruce Chatwin. Leigh Fermor lived in the area almost 50 years and was given honorary citizenship of the village as well as greater awards by the Greek Government.…
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War and peace Greek-style
This area is so peaceful today that it’s hard to realise it’s been a theatre of wars and conflict for millennia. But a chance encounter on a sleepy day brings it home. In search of a sandy beach we set off for Stoupa, some 40kms to the south. The trip through the mountains is hair-raising…
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Touchdown in lotus land
There’s something about the soporific atmosphere because I keep forgetting what day it is. I had to ask Judith whether it was Wednesday or Thursday and she seemed uncertain too. It’s very hot during the day with temperatures above 30 degrees, but that doesn’t fully explain our slumberousness (new word). We are staying with friends…
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On the Gulf of Messinia
It’s evening. From our hillside terrace we look down across olive groves and cypresses to the calm waters of the Gulf of Messinia. The light is golden; the heat has finally gone out of the day. Our landlord, coming up the hill in his tractor, waves a greeting. It’s blessedly peaceful. We arrived on Monday…
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Why I feel like an outsider in Paris
SO many of our well-travelled friends say, “Paris is my favourite city in the world.” I wish it were mine too, but it isn’t. I love its charm, excitement and layers of culture but, on other hand, I feel an outsider. No, the Parisians don’t make me feel an outsider even though they have a…
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The day they stormed the Bastille
From the window of our little hotel in the Marais I look down into the fire station. The fire brigade are a fine bunch of fit-looking young Frenchmen. Before the weekend, in between callouts, they spent hours climbing up fire-truck ladders in fetchingly tight t-shirts and running shorts, to put up tricolor bunting. I was…
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The minister and the prostitutes
Najat Vallaud-Belkacem, the minister for women’s rights in President François Hollande’s new Socialist Party government, is by any measure an extraordinary person. The Moroccan-born daughter of a building worker, she is 34, has three children, became a councillor in Lyon in her early twenties to oppose Le Pen’s fascists and earned her political spurs as…
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The Euro-fantasy crashes into a wall
As our Euro-Star train from St Pancras was pulling into the Gare du Nord, German Chancellor Angela Merkel was arriving for dinner at the Elysee with the new Socialist Party President Francois Hollande. Today (Thursday) they both trooped off to Brussels for yet another Euro-summit. The whole Euro thing has become part circus, part nightmare.…
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