Posted on September 13th 2024

If this reads like a follow-up to my last blog about the lifestyle of a magician, it was unintentional. After returning from a long overdue holiday, I want to venture further down the rabbit hole. Last week I went to Corfu for my first beach holiday in years. Unfortunately, things didn’t go to plan. But against all odds – a certain budget airline pushing back my departure by over two hours, an overbooked hotel sending me to a rundown halfway home for the first day, and torrential rain closing me off from the rest of the island – magic saved my holiday.

On arrival, after being on the go for over 12 hours, I was told I’d be getting sent to another hotel while they waited for my room to become available. Before that, I was entitled to a free drink at the bar. (I wouldn’t mind, I was all-inclusive anyway, but it’s the thought that counts). Immediately I was greeted by a bouncy Greek bartender who poured me a small large glass of paint-stripper. Or, as they prefer to call it, all-inclusive whiskey. I sat in the corner and felt my restless hand impulsively reaching for the deck of cards in my jacket pocket.

The bartender wasted not a moment in bouncing over to me, grabbing the deck out of my hand, and motioning for me to follow him. He took me to another table with two older women enjoying a drink. I’ve seen laypeople perform card tricks before and was expecting him to bust out the “21 Card Trick”, a trite feat of card maths that only the Bill Malone’s of the world can make entertaining. Instead, he performed “Calling the Cards”, a mentalism routine from Scarne on Card Tricks one of the first magic books I ever owned. Witnessing somebody outside the magic fraternity performing this effect not only reminded me of how many old tricks have entered the zeitgeist, but how fascinated I first felt when I discovered magic.

Being slightly intoxicated, the ladies were a little confused watching a drawn-out trick like this one, but they did acknowledge his success in finding the called-for cards. He handed back my now beer-stained deck and I performed a very quick trick, a simple production of a fan of cards from my mouth. This generated a stronger reaction because of its comical, visual nature. But credit to my warm-up man for breaking the ice.

I wouldn’t see them again until the following evening. The Greek islands had been recovering from torrential rain (I must’ve brought it through customs!) which wasn’t ideal for excursions. This led to most of the guests being forced to hang around the pool bar and nearby beach. Feeling disappointed at my luck, I thought back to why I’d booked this holiday. It’s been a busy year of gigs and overcoming personal stress. A change in scenery was much needed. It wasn’t about the weather. I don’t need a holiday from magic, so what was I “escaping” exactly? Did I need a break from the Cheeky Trickster? I’ll never escape him, so there’s no point trying. As the rain cleared in the late afternoon and evening, I set up a table to practice my card drills. This was a domino effect throughout the hotel and many hours and all-inclusive cocktails later, I was being crowd-surfed out of the bar.

I’ve always struggled with travelling alone, but I’m thankful to have magic as an ice-breaker. I have taken solo trips most of my adult life but with magic, I’ve never felt completely alone. My performances that night laid the foundation for the rest of my trip. I was recognised by guests and staff alike and people would approach to chat or invite me to play water polo.

The weather improved on my last day, soaring above 32 degrees with bright sunshine. I spent most of it in the sea and chatting with some of my new friends. My flight was at 8am the following morning but that didn’t deter me from staying out late. I wanted to spend time with this family I’d conjured up, and ensure I’d given out my Instagram handle to enough people. If you’re part of the Corfu gang, hello! Forgive me for not mentioning everyone by name, but I want to shout out Kev and Tina for being so kind and welcoming as well as the lovely Anja for our wholesome chat about life on my last night.

It may not have felt like a summer holiday, but I left with summer in my heart. Someone once said that paradise is a state of mind; I understand that now. For me, to have paradise in your heart is magic in itself. When life gives you lemons, you may as well perform the cups and balls.

Maybe next year I’ll return with a tan.