The Alien Invasion!
Living in Corfu in the mid-eighties. The people, the changes, religion and the back handers! When good old Greek cuisine & bottles of 5 star Metaxa had more clout than a fistfull of dollars, especially so with the local Corfiote constabulary! The good old days…never to be the same again. October 1985 and my 90 days stay allowance was soon to expire. With appointment pre-booked with the Port Police in Corfu Town the day had arrived to get my Aliens Permit.
Knowing Greece was a country with a legal system as watertight as a colander, I covered myself for any eventuality that would happen (knowing it WOULD…Never a COULD or MAY option here), or so I thought!
Due to the struggling Greek Economy, money was a BIG issue! Overjoyed when money was bought in and spent by the beloved tourist, but they detested tourists, or anyone with no Greek connection, overstaying their welcome, knowing only too well, that eventually we would be, in any way, shape or form, earning money!
Vatos, a compact but perfectly formed village, sandwiched between Pelekas, Ermones and the Ropa Valley, on the West of the island, was an area not well known by British holidaymakers in the 80’s, but the Germans came in their droves, often staying for months. Nikos and I decided to convert our horse stables into holiday apartments, giving the backpacker a more pleasant place to stay, with cooking facilities and bathrooms other than roughing it on the concrete floor in the store room attached to Spiro 97’s taverna!
The previous morning, Christolei, the old man, whose misfortune, was having his stone wall demolished regularly by the bus, due to the sharp bend in the road and very tight turn, had completed his morning mission…visiting as many neighbours as he could manage…to get away from his nagging wife Koula, and as usual, our house was his final spot. 3 greek coffees and umpteen ouzo chasers later, we knew all the latest gossip.
Nikos must have told the old man of our visit to the Port Police, and he must have told everyone else! As the bus pulled up, I could see it was packed to the gills with villagers. As we boarded some wished me luck and said a few prayers…Others crossing themselves, muttering Thea Mou (My god) and a majority slating the criminal ways of their own Constabulary!
Surely obtaining a permit was….Filling out a few forms, maybe paying a small fee…Having a mug shot taken…Given a list of ‘Do and Do Nots’….No Problem! (Infamous saying at the time in Corfu…Yes, got the badge and the t-shirt) ….Help!
I’m escorted to the Captains office, a dilapidated room in dire need of decoration, with Birth Certificate, Passport, and what I believed to be the ‘Golden Ticket’…my Bank of Crete account book, detailing the handsome deposit of 150,000drx, clutched in hand.
On the desk was a file, stuffed to the brim with official looking papers and badly photocopied photographs. MY FILE! What!
I was told to be silent until I was spoken to, so for 20 minutes I sat, mouth tightly shut, thinking how annoying the Captains habit of clearing his throat was, which he did with every document page he turned. I then shifted thoughts to the décor, wondering if it had ever been touched since it’s heyday as an SS interrogation room in WWII…Why change the look I thought, when it’s still being used for the same purpose!
At last! The ‘Golden Ticket’! The Captain catches my attention and smiles, and with perfect English tells me that I’ve been a very good girl. “So…you have money…eh?” “You bring from England…eh?” “You must bring more…not enough here for permit” “Must be 300,000drx in your account for me to give you permit” “Also.. you must pay for permit..50,000drx”
Forgetting that the Captains English was way better than my Greek I retorted with “You’re talking shit, taking the piss.” “You’re getting nothing from me, go to hell” Captain, outraged at this point ups the fee to 100,000drx and demands instant payment. I place the final nail in the coffin with a sarcastic reply that went down like a lead balloon! “ This room could do with decorating Captain”…”I will do it for you, and will only charge you 100.000drx!”
The Captains fist smashed down, so hard on the table, that my file leapt several inches and emptied it’s contents…My boyfriend crumpled into a sweaty heap, mumbling…Afto then einai kalo (This is not good) on a continual loop…and…my urgent need for the toilet was now extremely urgent!
The Captain had succeeded in reducing me to tears and my boyfriend to groveling …pleading for a compromise.
He still insisted that a further 150,000drx had to be, either in my Bank account, or produce evidence that the required amount in foreign currency had been exchanged. As for the 100,000drx fee…he was prepared to waiver this if, at the end of the week, I could provide the evidence needed and also bring to him items jotted down on a list…….
My thanks goes to .….….…..
Arsenio Kostopoulos: Manager of the Bank of Crete, St Rocco Square, Kerkyra, for compiling a fictitious list of currency exchange transactions, to the sum of 183.000drx..
Irenie Lazari: For her homemade Baklavas and baked Halvas.
The news stand in St Rocco Square: Where we purchased a box of 200 Aroma cigarettes & a bottle of 5star Metaxa
And finally… My boyfriend Nikos Lazaris for stumping up the 5000drx to complete the deal.
As I walked toward the Old Port bus station, with my officially stamped Aliens Permit, I wondered what the demands would be for my next one in 90 days.
This was the beginning of my affair with the Corfu Police…I visited them when I had to…but mostly..without an invite…they visited me!
“Can’t find what you’re looking for? Try Google Search!”
Tags: Adventure, corfu, earning money, fistfull of dollars, greek economy, Lifestyle, living in corfu, metaxa, mid eighties, port police
You must login to post a comment.