Told, With a Grecian Sunburn

Trip Start Jun 05, 2006

Trip End Aug 01, 2006

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Flag of Greece Athens, Greece
Friday, June 30, 2006

Update-ito: So last night Drew and Anne Elise showed up at around 7 or 8pm, in time for them to check into the bunk room me and Kelly are staying in, and for all of us (minus Scott and Adam, who were being lackadaisical)to go grab some delicious Greek eats and go to that other hostel that was having a party on their roof-bar with a great view of the lit-up Acropolis. It was pretty fun, but afterwards I was supposed to meet Scott and Adam at a more local Greek-scene type bar at like 12, and due to a series of misguided intents on my part, I ended up looking around for the wrong bar for over an hour, finding it to be completely lacking of Scott and Adams, and then hiking 30 minutes to get back home. But it was a fun night after all, and I got some exercise. Anyway, once again the other group (7) got up early to do a guided walking tour of the Acropolis, et al. this morning, while we (3) just decided to wander around and have an easy breakfast of pastries and coffee and arrange our ferry to Santorini for tomorrow night. Against my better instincts and learned wisdom, we have paid for bucket seats on the 12 hour ferry, due to a wallet-induced change of priorities (40 euro difference b/w seat and bed). I think later we may go through the National Gardens, and Adam wanted to see the Olympic Track, being a college cross country runner.

So now, updatey-journalike things outtatheway, I thought I'd just give some unorganized ramblings and impressions of Athens and maybe Greece, in general.

Hot. In late June, a constant shine of sweat and dripping AC unit condensate makes the dirt and grime seem like mottled layers on a polished ancient urn. The city, a meandering mess--friendly people, smiling at any attempt to blend in, speak Greek. Gyros, pronounced ZHEE-ros, with chicken or lamb, lettuce, tomato, French fries, onions, mayo and paprika, served on every corner and every 4 meters in between. And there's dog poo on the street that locals step over without having to look, and people hanging out of local bars like shrubbery planted there by the owners. Everywhere a care-free feel, slower, except for motorbikes on sidewalks; and stress-less like Americans haven't known since the timeless pool days of youth. But everywhere a sense of pride: in the language, in the people, in the history, in the carefully and continually preserved remnants of bygone days...in this place that has seen the growth of human intellect and culture from antiquity to the present, and still retaining the ability to inspire and entertain. As one Montana man in a Berlin hostel said, "Athens is just a dirty port city." But coming from America, where it's many swept-clean streets, repaved with cheap asphault evey year, most cities having a history of less than 200 years, this place might seem dirty. For me, the accumulation of dirt on old cobble-stone thoroughfares, the rocks worn slick from years of passing feet--that is not dirty. At least not in a detestable sense--it's the kind of dirty that you see on a farm worker after laboring in the fields all day, coming back sunburnt, tawny from years of that kind of work, and covered in a fine dust. That's how I see Athens, and it hides a mystery that a passer-through like myself can only guess at.

matt