No laughing matter

On board Bushido

The little village of Assos lies in the shadow of a Venetian fort off the western side of Kefalonia. From afar, it appears as a dark-blue dot, almost indistinguishable from the shimmering sea mist. But, as the boat surges closer, the rugged mountain peaks above Assos gain definition and then the tiny port itself appears out of nowhere. Kefalonia should not be confused with neighbouring Zante; the former is blunt and gruff, the latter gentle and low-lying. Although my family is from Zante, I’ll take Kefalonia any day. Kefalonians are known for their lunacy, the people from Zante for their gentle and poetic nature. The trouble is the poets sold their souls to the devil, whereas the loonies have not. There are very few motor scooters in Kefalonia, unlike in my grandfather’s birthplace. The waters are cleaner, the tourists are fewer and the place reminds me of yesteryear.