We went on an expedition on my paddleboard. Next to Barbati, the mountain Pantokrator looms over the sea. At the end of the beach, there is a stretch of the shore you cannot reach from the road, but can only access by water. The shore has many tiny beaches – just big enough for one or two towels – and also some small cool coves, with orange-brown walls and olive trees hanging above your head.
We took our paddle – the kids and I – and used it as a kayak to navigate to one of the many coves among the yachts and boats anchored in the bay. Zsolt took some pictures of us just as we started. The top layer of the water is so transparent that it looks as if the paddle is floating in the air above the blue water.
When we reached the cave, I dragged the paddle out to the shade and just sat there in the cool air watching the kids swim near the shore. Ian learnt to swim without floaties and now tries to snorkel out in the deep water with his mask to check out more interesting fish than those he has seen in shallow water until now. (There are not many fish in the deep waters, though – now that Mark and I are brave enough to venture into these waters, I sometimes choose to stay by the shore).
The first time Ian swam out into the sea, I had to jump into the water to take him out. When I grabbed him, I didn’t feel the ground underneath my feet, and so my head underwater, holding him above with one hand, I swam with the other hand towards the shore.
When we were out where both could stand, Ian asked me:
– Did you jump in to save me?
And I replied:
– No, just to give you a hug.
Mark interfered:
– Mama, why did you just lie to Ian?
Have I lied? Have I ever actually saved Ian? He always did a fine job of saving himself, ever since he was born, and all of us, including the doctors, were pretty sure he died. Ever since I was just there giving him a hug, watching him get out of another trouble.
Mark says:
– You know, I don’t think Ian would have drowned. I think he would have just turned back, and la la la – Mark imitates Ian paddling cheerfully – swum back to us.
I say:
– I think so too.
But I would never check.
After this, we came up with a system where Mark would swim further away in line along the shore, creating a kind of border, and Ian would snorkel ecstatically within that line Mark was creating.
So I could sit in the cave and watch them, and olive trees, and the yachts and Corfu town right across the sea, and the foggy shores of Albania and mainland Greece, and the sea so transparent my kids seem to be floating above the pebbles, and the turquoise blending into blue and the sea blending into the land and the land blending into the sky.