February 2026
Patience is a long game. Here’s the latest postcard from the edges of winter in Corfu. In January I’ve been blessed with the presence of Denis and Barbel. Besides being an ace French cook, Denis is a handyman finding and fixing faults in things I’d have never thought of. That’s before we even make THE LIST of the things the Madame can see. Floorboards, fixtures, bubbles in plaster and paths to the compost to begin, but we have till Greek easter in early April.
I’d love to make the garden more abundant next so permaculture project of 2026 is beginning with the palm rotting nicely around the garden. Bearing in mind all I know about permaculture is is that ‘you always have everything you need’. So under the wise secateurs of Barbel we’ve been scattering peelings, ash, sweetgrass, last years lilies, and gathering olive mulch. I have a lettuce as the first plant in a potager. Don’t think I’m going to get far on that in an apocalypse. But you know, small lettuce victories are sweet.
I’d been scratching my head around last October’s new legislation on short term lettings in Greece requiring certificates for all manner of questionably-useful-yet-unaffordable hoops, plus a bill for 900 euros for the Airbnb tax I’d forgotten to keep aside, spent on other necessities. Yesterday I read this sentence while researching. "Additionally, the Greek government has decided that properties purchased through the golden visa scheme will no longer be eligible to be rented out as a short-term rental."
I have no idea whether that’s true, and if it’s liberation or ruin, but if ‘the obstacle is the way,’ then it’s going to be an innovative challenge to find out what IS possible. So, as Claudia says this year “we’re selling art not rooms”. We’re already holding small creative gatherings in the studio, setting aside time to quietly focus on art. It’s all part of the experimental offerings this year to see if we can really make the shift. I’ve been having conversations and planning collaborations with artists, writers, teachers and dancers, so come for a holiday and find yourself with coffee, croissants and creativity. Not sure how much will be official but we’ll find the right-enough ways ways. The joys of buying art supplies can never be underestimated.
When I made the leap to move here, I was so infused with the synchronicity of it all, it felt like dharma. Yet some days the new obstacles and big costs chip away at my faith of being able to make it work. And then the only antidote is trust. I remind myself - ‘Who’d have thought when my house sale fell through that I’d be loaned the money, who’d have thought a man from France would come all the way to paint the shutters, who’d have thought so many friends would turn up to visit and support, who’d have imagine Claudia dipping randomly into Facebook on the day I posted that I needed someone to help?’ So admitting I simply don’t know what other unimaginable ways the missing Enneagram Type 7 childhood message “you will be taken care of” could come through, feels naive yet comforting.
Meanwhile, I’m hugging the fire, finding flat stones for the path to the compost, and looking forward to coming back to Manchester soon, spending time with my ageing mum, my sister Annie’s birthday and Sex Lectures. Joyful happy returns await.
Remember the thrill the first time my writing was accepted to go to Arte Sumapaz in Colombia.
