Thursday, August 25, 2005

We'll always have Athina...

As the sad day of my departure draws closer, today's blog is dedicated to all the things I will miss once I am deposited back on the unfortunate shores of the UK.

Bug Eye Sunglasses:
To the modern Athenian woman, these are as much a part of being a woman as bras and lipstick. Oh the advantages of looking unbercool while gazing at any part of anyone's anatomy undiscovered. I will miss them.

Nai nai nai... yes my delicious snack, no more shall you delight my tastebuds in the early hours of a warm summer dawn after a night of socialising. You, the true souvlaki, are so abused, mutated and corrupted in the UK that I spent three years of my student life thinking what a great deal I was getting. No more. I can never touch another souvlaki again unless it's in Greece.

The Acropolis:
I pass it every day on the bus when I'm going downtown and only a few days ago it hit me just how luck I was to be seeing the Acropolis every day. In the middle of all the modern craziness of Athens, it's like a monument to serene greatness. I love it. It sure beats crappy views of run down bits of London on buses which threaten to explode at any given moment.

Venture to any metro station or random street corner and you're bound to find a koulouri stand selling rings of sesame coated, bready delight to fend off hunger pangs and stuff into the mouths of screaming children. At 50 cents each they're a great way to get rid of spare change. The secret ingredient is the film of pollution covering each one. Mmmm....

Olive oil:
I'm spoiled for life now. I can never again buy olive oil from a supermarket after the heavenly oils I've sampled in Greece. Fruity indeed.

Devil-may-care attitude to life:
I will miss this most of all. The Greeks like no one else I've ever seen really squeeze every last drop out of what life has to offer and don't apologise for it. Two days ago I was going downtown on a bus when I noticed a man chasing the bus on his scooter blowing kisses to a woman on board, and it struck me as a highly romantic gesture, the sort of thing you do when you're all dolce vitad up. The Greeks have fun, the flirt, they laugh, they get angry, shout and scream, kiss and make up, complain about the Euro, take out bank loans on the pretext of building a house which they then go shopping to Kolonaki with, the men are men and the women exude feminity without feeling threatened by it. Perhaps all this combined is why they live so long.

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