For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard stories about Corfu told in our family about the time my grandfather – as a young officer in the Serbian army – spent three months on this "Island of Salvation" recuperating from the golgotha of crossing Albania. It would probably not have gone beyond that stage had I, by virtue of circumstance, not met Yannis the Corfiote, a great enthusiast of his native magical island. He magnanimously invited me to be his guest and capture with my camera places an ordinary tourist seldom has the opportunity to see.
 That fresh April evening we stood on the ship’s prow staring at the island’s misty contours. The last rosy vestiges of a dying day were disappearing behind the softly rounded olive-clad hills as the first lights of the city of Corfu appeared straight ahead. Yannis has seen this sight many times. Even so, like many of the islanders, he has never missed a chance to experience it again and greet his home city from afar. At that very moment, my attention was directed towards the island of Vido, opposite from the Old City Quarter at the very entrance of Corfu harbour. This small patch of land – declared the Serbian Jerusalem – is the silent witness to one of the greatest plights of the Serbian army during WW I. The ship slowly slid into the harbour, and Yannis and I both – our backs turned towards each other – saluted the sight.
"So, do you like Corfu?" my host asked me provocatively, immediately upon disembarking. It was more of a local joke than a genuine question, one that the islanders – known for their sharp humour – level at every visitor instead of the clichéd words of welcome.
I knew that the island’s luscious nature had inspired many renowned writers since ancient times, from the legendary Homer, via the Durrell brothers – Lawrence and Gerald – to Serbian poet Jovan Dučić. This, however, was long before the tourist boom and uncontrolled housing development hit the island in the mid-1980s. Thus, I wondered just how much this idyllic picture I knew from books had changed after the onslaught of mass tourism, which brings more than one million visitors annually.
 It took me just a few days to realise that three different worlds exist on the island parallel to each other, worlds that overlap very little if at all.
The first entails the old city of Corfu, with its cosmopolitan spirit and patina of bygone times; then there is the coastline with numerous beaches and coves increasingly dominated by tourist centres, hotel complexes and villas for rent; the third, which I found most interesting, is the authentic part of the island – its scarcely visited interior that includes some 120 villages where the traditional way of life still unfolds unhindered.
To be able to fully appreciate Corfu’s universal attraction and the islanders’ mentality, one must get acquainted – at least in brief – with its tumultuous history. The City of Corfu has always been a strong trade centre and has been the focus of repeated interest from many naval powers. After the fall of the Byzantine Empire, the Venetian Republic ruled the city for more than four centuries, followed by the French and then the English. This has resulted in an independent culture being developed on the island noticeable in the blend of different conquerors’ legacies and home-bred Orthodox tradition. This is why the island was frequently referred to as "the last station in the East and the first station of the West".
During the subsequent week, I investigated the island section by section in some detail. Clearly enthusiastic, Yannis showed me the white pearly beaches around Paleokastrica, accessible only by boat, the derelict villages on the slopes of Mt. Pantocrator and the old aristocratic mansions overgrown by thick vegetation.
 Still, I spent most of my time in the Old City Quarter that is entered on the world heritage list due to its wealth of cultural legacy. The city is a genuine labyrinth of narrow streets cramped between two fortresses and the sea. The central and at the same time most beautiful part is the Esplanade, covering the area between the Old Fortress and The Liston. The islanders are proud of this square, and claim it is the largest in the Balkans. Its northern section accommodates the mansion of the former English governors that is today the Asian Art Museum, the only one in Southeastern Europe. The square’s central section has been turned into a spacious park with a rotunda where concerts are held, followed by the monument to the Septinsular Republic, to which Corfu belonged before it joined Greece in 1864, and an English legacy in the form of a cricket pitch. In the evening hours, the Esplanade, together with the Liston housing elite cafes, becomes a remarkable promenade of the islanders’ refined style and proud countenance.
The city’s major sacral object is the Church of St. Spyridon built in 1590. The church safeguards the relics of this saint, the island’s protector who – so legend says – saved it from the Turks, the plague and famine. The 800 Orthodox churches and monasteries, and the numerous festivals held during religious holidays, speak clearly of the importance attached to and the role played by religion on Corfu. The unique celebration of Easter with the litanies and the locals’ massive turnout is something the island is known for throughout Greece.
Apart from religion, Corfiotes are very partial to music. Music festivals, concerts, feasts and dances are held during the summer in the city and elsewhere on the island. Music is formally taught at the Ionian Faculty Music Department, but it is to found everywhere: at religious festivities, as part of the so-called panagias, on city streets, village greens…
Touring the island’s interior, it is impossible not to be impressed with the diversity of vegetation, the magnificence of which was described as early as in Homer’s time, in the pages of The Odyssey. An estimated three million olive trees grow on the island so that, in addition to the tourist industry, olive oil production is the major economic activity on the island. It is noteworthy that the island’s western coast was practically uninhabited until the mid-20th century due to the continual danger posed from pirate raids. The villages were set deep inland or built high on hill slopes to escape the eyes of sea robbers. For the most part, the villagers grew olive trees, fruits and vegetables, and this appeared more of a continental than a coastal region. Fresh fish on the table was a rarity, and dried mackerel from the city was most often consumed. Fear of pirates was so ingrained in the minds of islanders that parents would not allow children to roam freely on the beach until the 1950s.
Despite the island’s many beauties, I was committed to touring the Serbian WW I monuments to pay my respect to our ancestors. One such monument in the city of Corfu is the Serbian House that accommodated the Serbian Army Supreme Command Headquarters. Today, this is a museum and the honorary Serbian Consulate. On the island of Vido is the Serbian WW I soldiers’ mausoleum, the Stone Cross and Blue Graveyard (the name refers to the nearby blue waters off the shoreline) where some 10,000 Serbian soldiers were given a sea burial. Another landmark is the site where the Serbian Army landed at Guvija (Govino) as well as the village of Agios Matheos, the site of the monument to the Serbian Army Drina Division Corps. Apart from these, many other buildings testify to one of the most dramatic parts of Serbian history in the 20th century. There is also the summer residence of Empress Elizabeth of Austria, called Achileon, where the ailing Serbian officers were hospitalised. This mansion today attracts a large number of tourists due to its classical beauty and luxurious garden. Unfortunately, being a professional photographer, I was not allowed to take pictures, so that I was deprived of this experience.
They say that – as a rule – whoever visits the island once, always returns to it. When I was departing and watching the old city skyline from the ship’s deck, I realised just how true this claim is. We passed the ramparts of the New Fortress that I have come to know as well as a series of old buildings in Mouragia, the red dome of the Church of St. Spyridon and a charming café at Faliraki. The silhouettes of wooded Vido Island could be seen from the other side of the ship. I tried to behold both sides, to merge them into a single image. Finally, I knew the answer to Yannis’ question: "Oh, yes! I do love Corfu!" | 
