Athenian Awakening

We've been in Greece for over a week.  And I'll blame the hot weather for slowing me down. I'm walking slower, talking slower and drifting from one thought to the next with little desire to connect the dots. But Deb's gone off for a pedicure with strict instructions to meet her in an hour (that was half an hour ago) so we can head off on our daily adventure. Today it's Kalloni, (heavy on the 'i') a 20K taxi ride in one direction or another from our base in Galatas, that apparently has a fabulous beach bar. Yesterday's fabulous beach bar was in Lover's Bay and it was a teeming tangle of bikinis and beer. For 6.5E we got a tiny table, an umbrella, 2 chairs and 24 sq ft of real estate. There are worse ways to spend your day.

But let me tell you about first impressions of Greece. 

Imagine the Mona Lisa painted on a dirty napkin. You're walking down the street, glance sideways from your cellphone and see a wadded discard. You go back to your phone but something caught your eye so you slow and look. Looking down at it you see it's looking back up  at you. You tap it with your toe not wanting to get too close to someone else's detritus and a tiny bit more is revealed. You crouch down, still keeping your hands to yourself and like a curious dog turn your head sideways. Is that a face? Using the corner of your cell you reveal more of its nature and the discovering dissolves your resolve not to touch. Your free hand pulls it fully apart and the beauty dominates its canvas.

As the cabbie raced from the airport to our hotel - the freeways are empty with the Greeks having deserted the city for cooler climes - the first thing I noticed was the graffiti. Everywhere. Every building from the ground to reaching distance was covered in it. Some of it just tagging, some of it beautiful, painstaking artwork. The best was on the roll down metal covers of the stores, perhaps commissioned by the owners but even much of that had been tagged over and the result was a grungy backdrop to the piles of garbage and broken sidewalks. It a looks a lot like Vancouver's downtown eastside. But then I looked up and went up.

We were staying at the Athens Melia and a doorman led us past the security guard in his all black outfit with army boots and dark shades and into our tourist oasis. The cool air  and sophisticated hostess softened the tension that had been building along my spine and I entered the House of Privilege with a slight smile. The room key unlocked our private cocoon with its double jacuzzi tub, beer fridge (4E, dirt cheap) and massive bed. Quick hint: don't put bubble bath in a jacuzzi. I flooded the bathroom. The all glass elevator whisked us to the roof deck and we were blasted with the view that makes this ancient city famous; the Acropolis with its Parthenon crown. As I relaxed with an ouzo and oj (O2) I began to see all that the throngs come to see. The distant ocean, the mix of ancient and new and a desire to see more, up close. Plans were made.

Some of the oldest antiquities in the world are kept in the National Museum of Archeology right under our noses. Now I like museums but usually leave feeling it was an hour or three well wasted and not a lot better informed. This time She hooked me up to Rick Steves audio tour which bluetoothed into my hearing aids and buddy Rick held my hand and carefully explained everything I was looking at. Loved it.

The Parthenon was day 2 but we waited with O2 on the roof until the cruise ship crowd moved on. Rick was with us again and two hours flew by. We exited differently than we entranced and found ourselves in tourist central aka The Plaka. You find something like it in most major tourist centres with a plethora of restaurants and souvenir shops. While most of Athens presented with a modicum of people, The Plaka was  shoulder to shoulder to shoulder. We were coerced into a restaurant (it didn't take much coercion) and enjoyed authentic tourist food as the human river flowed by. I don't think I could have bought a hamburger in Vancouver for what we paid for a feast with wine. A little heavier, a little drunker, we found a cab to end our day.

Known to my wife and other Grecophiles is the ancient Agora, the original city of Athens. It's now fenced and sold by the hour to those who can't get enough from just reading about it. Rick walked me through it and again brought the old rocks to life. Diogenes told Alexander the Great (he named himself) to get out of his sun and Plato urged the youth to know thyselves. Sounded like a pretty cool place to hang out 2,000 years ago.

There was some time wandering the streets looking to get ourselves hooked up with a phone but mostly getting lost on the varicose vein arrangement. Honestly we'd get 2 blocks from the hotel and couldn't find our way back. The early Greeks were brilliant but it was North America that saw the value in a grid.

And that was Athens. Which came after Paris. Which I barely remember but will sketch out in my next post.

Cheers!