The city of Corfu (Kerkyra) is a bit strange because all of a sudden it is as if I am transported to Italy. Portico columns, the color, and just general vibe remind me so much of an Italian town. There are Byzantine fortresses on either side I cannot explore with my hand luggage, but I slide it over the cobblestone paths with relative ease as I navigate the narrow alleys of the old city. I am surprised to find the ruins of an old synagogue and a kiosk selling a vegetarian eggplant sandwich and kiwi juice for lunch.

Kavos, where I spend my first night, sucks. The bathroom in my accommodation is gross and the WiFi is basically nonexistent. I go to the beach which is beautiful, but then I get sucked into it by taking a wrong step. I sink up to my waist, but luckily my phone is unharmed. It’s covered in dead sea grass, which attracts tons of biting flies; I get devoured by mosquitos as the sunset comes. On the first day of November, everything is closed, and so there is nothing for me to eat but chips.

I return to the old town and circle the fortress, but it is also closed. I walk through the central plaza and down some cute alleys decorated with hanging vines. It’s a nice touch to the Venetian city.

I bus along the coast and finally see the turquoise Ionian Sea. The bus winds through the mountains and small villages to arrive in Sidari.

Along the north coast the jagged islands and peninsulas stretch in and out along the shoreline like waves. I wander along each outcrop to the point where I can look out over the shallow, turquoise water, careful not to slip. The edges are striated into steps that I follow up to a patch of shrubby forest. I trace six or seven outcrops before the coastal walk ends at the “tunnel of love”.

This cove features a cool tunnel that goes underneath the peninsula. I brave the cold water and check it out. The water reflects aquamarine at the mouth of the tunnel, and I see it goes through to the other side. I get a headache and turn red from the cold, so I immediately get out and towel off.

I hike along the remaining coastline to the final beach, featuring nice islets and a peculiar peninsula thinly branching off. I scale up the hill to the top of the cliff, through many thorny shrubs, to view the sunset. Golden rays illuminate the limestone peninsulas and turquoise water. I’m careful not to fall off as I capture photos. I have a sandwich from Kerkyra as I enjoy the light show. I return to Sidari to find a sandwich and waffle shop that is still open—lucky me!

The next day I hike further to the edge of the island, up through the farms and morning mist. I pass many fires that I am convinced are feeding the clouds I hike through to reach the top. I walk along a ridge of olive forest overlooking the cerulean sea.

I continue on towards the lookout at Cape Drastis. This view includes a couple islets branching off from the peninsula and appear to harbor resting seabirds. I walk down and around a bit up the cliff side until I can go no further.

Before I return I stop off at another beach. This one is at the base of a steep cliff; I do not descend all the way, as I notice my shoe traction is smoothed by the hundreds of miles of walking I’ve done the past few months. I slip down the slick pavement, climbing my way back up towards the historic town.

I revisit the beaches from the previous day, this time in better lighting, and I am better able to capture their beauty.

I depart for my next destination of Palaiokastritsa. This place is pure mountain beauty. Cliffs rise behind me, and aquamarine basins are below me as I follow the road down to the beach.

While the beaches are not as nice as up north, the water looks incredible. Sea caves line the coasts and forests climb insurmountable cliff sides. I hike up an inlet to a monastery to watch the sunset. Sunset over the bays and cliffs is divine.