Whatever Happened to Margo?

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People are always asking me what happened to my sister. I am pleased to report that Margo is still full of beans and that our lives continue to be as entangled as they were during those halcyon days on Corfu. She helped raise my animals; I helped raise her children. She descends upon me frequently at my zoo in Jersey and my house in Provence; I often invade her territory in Bournemouth. We have taken many holidays together – driving through the back lanes of France and arguing about a picnic site or when it is biologically necessary to stop the car; feeding the pigeons in the Piazza San Marco in Venice and watching them (the pink kind) in the tropical paradise of Mauritius. And, yes, sharing again the charms of Corfu, looking for and finding the deserted olive groves and sea caves where we were all so happy.

From the beginning and every bit as keenly as the Durrell brothers, Margo displayed an appreciation of the comic side of life and an ability to observe the foibles of people and places. Like us, she is sometimes prone to exaggeration and flights of fancy, but I think this is no bad thing when it comes to telling one’s stories in an entertaining way. I am delighted that she has written down the experiences at ‘51’ and I know you will enjoy them, too.

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