Yeah, I should really ask my mum who in the family has them now. The story that has most viscerally imprinted itself on my brain is the one where Durrell family go for a picnic on the beach to impress some relatives from out of town and set up the blanket with a lovely length of driftwood to lean against, only to realise, upon noticing a strange pong, in the middle of the meal, that said driftwood was, in fact, a (very) deceased horse.

oh my god I’d forgotten that one. I think my favorite thing from the Corfu years was the passage about going out with the night fishermen and catching octopus with a trident, but my favorite overall is his descriptions of capturing armadillos in Argentina in The Drunken Forest… and tbh literally everything else in that book, the whole thing is a hysterical zoology misadventure.