Read Dangerous Inheritance for Free Online

Paleokastritsa on the west coast, and picnic there.
    They could have gone more quickly by the main highway through Corfu town and then north-west, but to enjoy the finer scenery they elected to take the road inland and up through the mountains as even that meant a run of less than thirty miles. At first the way was bordered by the ubiquitous olive groves, interspersed with woods of oak and walnut trees, and many small acacias in blossom. Every meadow was carpeted between the ancient trees with a wonderful variety of wild flowers: purple anemones and honesty, yellow marigolds and buttercups, scarlet pimpernels, blue grape hyacinths, silenes, cranes-bills and bee orchis. Among them strapping peasant women were collecting the last of the fallen olives from the ground. The villages they passed through were silent, except for barking mongrel dogs, for every hand is needed to harvest the precious crop. Here and there along the rising ground were scattered farmsteads with vines, honeysuckle or wistaria half covering their white walls; many of the larger had small gardens gay with roses, carnations, stocks, wallflowers and tree peonies.
    Soon they reached a pass through which they could see the blue Adriatic sparkling in the sun. Turning north they ran for a while almost along the crest of the range then down through the Ropa valley to pass through olive groves again with swathes of iris, oxalis, narcissus, speedwell, mallow and shepherd’s purse.
    Presently, as they approached the rugged mass of Spartil, the ground rose again. Then they curved round the beautifulmany-coved bay of Liapádon, that lay at the southern foot of the mountain, and so came to Paleokastritsa, with its ancient monastery of the Holy Virgin, perched on a spur of rock washed on all sides, but for a narrow causeway, by the sea.
    After a glass of wine at the small hotel on the bay they visited the monastery. There was no sound but that of the waves and about the whitewashed buildings with their trellised vines there was an unbelievable atmosphere of peace which made the great cities of the world seem as remote as if they were on another planet.
    Returning to the car they drove up the twisting mountain road to the village of Lákones for a bird’s-eye view of the monastery—from that height looking no larger than a dolls’ house set on a cardboard mound in a pool of dark blue water—then on for another few miles round the corner of the great headland to a hamlet where the road ended.
    From there they walked some distance along a rocky track until they came in sight of Castel San Angelo. It stood on a small island separated from the mountain only by a deep cleft in the rock and other great rocks lay scattered in the sea as though once hurled there by Zeus in a fit of anger. Beyond the gorge the ground mounted in a succession of steep terraces seaward to a great broad promontory that, seeming to reach the sky, towered up a thousand feet. Circling the top like a diadem could still be seen the crumbling thousand-year-old walls of the once impregnable fortress.
    Retracing their steps, they drove back to the entrance of the Ropa valley. In it, behind hedges of prickly pear and wild roses, there were many meadows having here and there an almond, plum or peach tree in blossom, and carpeted in tall grey-green grass that in another few weeks would flower as swathes of silver asphodel. Selecting a pleasant spot they set about having their picnic. When they had demolished the strange langouste-like creatures that had flippers and orange-brown shells, and the April strawberries of Corfu, that Marie Lou had brought, they dozed for a while, then made their way home after a long and happy day.
    Next morning Fleur and Truss did the Achilleion. Its garden,with the fine statues of Achilles, that gave the Palace its name, and the beautiful Rotunda, was a delight; and the lovely colonnaded gallery in which stood the statues of the Nine Muses gave a breath-taking