Tales from a Greek island part one ………how the other half live

The first hint that all might not be well with the return flight from Kefalonia was the delay in boarding the aircraft.

What followed was a spell on the plane, followed by our disembarkation, and return to an already very crowded departure lounge, a frustrating long wait, with little in the way of information, culminating in a series of confused messages and concluding with frantic efforts to place 280 passengers across an island at the height of the holiday season for the night.

Some, it has to be said were winners, ending up just a short coach ride from the airport in very nice hotels.  Others discovered that there “was no home at the inn” in their temporary accommodation and were bussed to alternatives, with one group finally settling in the property of the coach driver’s nephew.

Now I grant you that set against the tragedy of migrants crossing the open sea in leaky boats, abandoned by the smugglers, our collective experience was a trifle, and most of us could see that, but we were all tired, frustrated and in possession of little information.

Which leads me to our plight, which involved an hour and half journey to the north of the island, arriving at midnight, a full ten hours after our expected departure time.

And here the story really begins and involves one of those rare experiences most of us will ever have, which is to be confronted with real wealth.

The sort of wealth that makes worrying about a gas bill as likely as a trip to the Moon, and more seriously will ensure only the best paid medical care and the most prestigious international schools.

A quick search offered up the possibility that we were going somewhere very upmarket, which was confirmed by our reception, which involved the provision of gently scented white towels as a refreshment, and long elegant glasses with which to drink the very cold drinking water.

Unsurprisingly the rooms came with a swimming pool were very comfortable, the breakfast a world away from an “English” and the public places lavishly designed.

And with all that came the reaction of the paying guests, which ran from quizzical curiosity at the new group in their midst to some who looked on with disdain.

From the first group, came a nod to that old belief “that the poor will always be with us” and that it was only right that this band of unlucky package passengers should be accommodated, as long as it was only for the night.

Others, and here it is difficult to know if they were being mischievous or ignorant, wanted to know how long we were staying, because the facility was “top notch” with that unmistakable attitude that it was not for us.

And as if on cue, one woman walked to the pool carrying her towel and suntan lotion in a large and genuine Prada bag, while a loud conversation behind us, reflected on the current trend in stealing expensive fireplaces, and ornaments from the homes of the rich in Zurich and Paris for onward transfer to the homes of the equally rich  in Rome, Berlin and Moscow.

Not that we had to worry, for at the appointed time the coach arrived and with much careful attention our luggage and ourselves were ferried on motorized buggies up the hill to the hot roadside and a return to the airport.

Location; Kefalonia

Pictures; Kefalonia, 2019, from the collection of Balzano