The edit - I arrived into Athens late on Friday evening. Leonie had arranged a taxi from the port to the hotel, and so I was very excited to find a handsome man standing with a piece of paper with my name on it. Just this little bit of familiarity was so welcome after spending almost a week alone.
He drove me to the hotel, but with guided commentary. He talked about Spartans and Athenians, democracy, pointed out various landmarks, gave his opinion on the Middle East, and on the influx of Albanians into Greece. I didn't want him to drop me off at the hotel as I could have listened to him talk for hours.
We arrived at the Grande Bretagne and I was helped out of the taxi by the fully uniformed door man. I checked in and was informed I'd been upgraded to a room with a balcony that overlooked the parliament, and that as such I'd have a butler service. I felt like a complete dag in my sundress and haivainas! I was gobsmacked by the luxury of the place - thick soft carpet, marble, art, gold, branding everywhere (even on the toilet paper!). The butler asked if there was anything he could help with but I shyly told him I was fine. I wanted him to leave so I could sticky beak around the room and start playing with everything. I think this is the biggest joy I have in hotel rooms.
After a complimentary drink and chocolates I had a nice big hot bath with bubbles (it was a marble bath, I had to), tried on the robe and slippers (even though it was too hot for such things) and fell into bed.
The next morning Leonie came and met me at the hotel for breakfast. I went to school with her, and I think I may have only seen her once or twice in the 18 years since. She moved back to Athens in 2004 and has been here since. It was so lovely to see her and to just chat and chat and chat about life and love and mutual friends. The view from the hotel rooftop wasnt half bad either, or the silver service smoked salmon breakfast followed by yoghurt with honey.
We wandered around Athens for a few hours, looking at shops and sights, before stopping for a fantastic late lunch. We had entrees of fried cheese with sesame, honey and crispy bacon (drool) and a warm chick pea dip topped with onion, tomato and olive oil (greek hommus??). I then had a chicken mastica, which was a birds nest of crispy shredded filo, topped with chicken breast and a creamy velvety sweet musky sauce. I wish I had two stomachs.
That night I went for a walk through Monastiraki, then up through Plaka, until I got completely lost. I kind elderly man gave me directions and his business card and asked me to meet him for coffee the next day.
The next morning Leonie picked me up and took me out to her place for family lunch. Her partner was making moussaka and they thought I might want to learn to make it. We drove out there past the ERT (?) television studio that had just been closed down by the government. It would be the equivalent of closing the ABC in Australia I suppose. People had lost jobs and a cultural gap was created. I saw the protest, which was not much more than banners on the front of the building/property entrance. As the taxi driver had told me a few days before, while the economic situation of many greek people was pretty horrendous, the protests about it all were overinflated in the media and have now affected tourism income.
Leonie's house and family are just lovely. I felt so welcomed and looked after, and the moussaka was the best I've ever tasted. There were lots of jokes about my last attempt at a 'diet moussaka' (grilled veggies instead of fried, low fat meat and minimal cheese). The general consensus was that you just can't do that. If you are gonna make moussaka make it properly and eat diet food for the rest of the week.
Di, don't let me forget to give you a big hug from Boucci.
In the afternoon, back in the city, I waited for the temperature to cool down before setting out towards the Acropolis.
First I wandered across the road to watch the Soldiers outside the parliament at the half hour stretch point. Nothing screams fierce to me like pom-pommed slippers. It was 35 degrees though, so another soldier kindly wiped the sweat from their faces after the performance.
I then walked the long way towards Acropilis, through Plaka, Anafiotika and then allllllllll the way around past the acropolis museum and herodium (there was some kind of concert on so lots of people dressed to the nines drinking wine). this route also took me past Hadrian's Arch, and the unavoidable electricity cables.
This was as close as I could get to the acropolis. It was closed by the time I got up there and the heat and limited time prevented a second visit.
A hill next to the acropolis, overlooking Athens.
I walked around towards The Agora (marketplace).
And finally, the best seat in the house...
My flight left for Italy in the early afternoon on Monday, and I had another fantastic taxi driver take me to the airport. We discussed language (Greek is 200 years ahead of every other language - full stop), film (Roberto Begnini is an "ethics maker" actor not just someone who is pretty or slept with someone), orthodox faith (the word means to stand upright in god, but his colleagues tease him by saying a very similar sounding word which means to stand upright in craziness), the economic crisis (no holidays this year or next, but a good family, including a son he loves), history (Greeks are the best and most faithful- full stop) and that the cancelled day tour he'd had booked turned into a better day of taking me to the airport and another person back from the airport, so God is good!
I didn't want him to drop me off at the airport as I could have listened to him talk for hours.
The Agora, where St Paul preached to the Greek men who were hanging around and drinking coffee while their wives cleaned house.
ReplyDeleteWell, perhaps not coffee, probably wine, and they were discussing philosophy, but that's pretty much what I said. Acts 17 (roughly)
Great to have been there.