Exiting Athens is like driving along Parramatta Road, crowded in on both sides by car yards and stuck in roadworks equivalent to Gladys' best laid plans.
Following eleven days of cruising the Aegean Sea and lounging on Azamara Pursuit sun beds, it will be a pleasure to get to our B&B where we can lounge about on B&B sunbeds. I wonder who will bring me my Campari and soda now?
Our taxi driver would fit right into Australia cursing the traffic conditions and the close scraped cars. I assume it was cursing but its all Greek to me. Our Opal people mover is brand new and air conditioned and our entertainment a mixture of Katy Perry, Greek pop and inane rap. Pretty much like being in a taxi in Melbourne. The 130kph speed limit its making up for the earlier traffic jam and the car yards have been replaced by cement factories. I now know where the saying "I came, I saw, I concreted" originated.
Rose met us at the door to our home for the next week. The others ooh'd and ah'd over the spectacular seaside panorama while I was impressed by the Campari glasses and cocktail shaker. A wooden bowl of multicoloured worry beads seemed superfluous. The foibles of the apartment's electricity were explained at great length before we shoehorned our luggage down the narrow spiral suitcase. What goes down....
The Hotel Pappas Taverna was but a short walk towards the Gulf of Corinth. Obligatory, the cat, wound itself around the legs of my chair mewing for tidbits. "Don't look at me, I haven't ordered lunch yet." It would appear, from our experience, that Greeks love Aussies, tolerate Americans and scorn the English and their snooty delivery. Not too many Pom's in Greece this summer what with the value of the Pound and Brexit blues. Waiter George asked where we came from and when we replied "from the apartments above Hotel Pappas" he enthusiastically promoted the live Greek dancing tonight. A date is a date.
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