Athens, Part 1

Posted near Syntagma Square using free public wire-less internet connection

Before

November 27, 2008

“One, two, three,” I counted in quick succession under my breath. “Four,” I uttered wryly and with a hint of smile in disgust as I tugged open yet another door. Then came a series of corridors with identical quick turns. The corridors look all the same except that at the middle of the corridor are two colored square tiles. Long corridors have two squares of same colors, and short corridors have two squares of different colors. Orange and blue squares follow two orange ones, and two blue squares come next. It’s a veritable maze. Then another door waits. This one requires that a button on the wall be pressed before. Next is the reception area. There is another door and another button, then a corridor leading to dining area. Finally a door leads me outside, but not without asking me to press yet another button – a different shaped one this time.

I came to despise doors here in England. Some require access cards, some require pressing of a button on the wall – sometimes well disguised and located rather far away. Going up or down one flight of stairs can require opening as many as four doors. At night some of the stairs are not lit. I have walked up and down dark stairs not knowing that yes there are buttons for the lights as well. Too many doors and too little lights are two of many things I won’t miss about England.

One of the rooms I often visit requires a Duesenberg of a hike. I would leave my building – two doors both requiring pressing of button on the way out and access card on the way in. I would then walk to the next building over to enter it at the North end. From here, I make way all the way to the South end of the building through eleven doors and one stairwell each way. Four of the doors are access card-controlled. Even after years of doing this I sometimes I open the wrong door or stairway and find myself in a dead-end. It’s a 15-minute trip altogether at night. Maybe it would only take half the time during daytime, but I almost always end up going at night.

As I make my way outside to make the trip one more time, a voice came, “It’s raining outside.” Great. It’s something of a surprise to see another soul at this hour. It’s only a drizzle, thankfully. “One,” I started counting again. This was my fourth trip this week. For whatever its worth I guess I won’t be making this trip tomorrow.

Prologue

November 28, 2008

I opened my eyes. The alarm clock hasn’t gone off yet. It’s an early afternoon flight, so I can afford to move at a leisurely pace. I checked the alarm clock again. Damn. I had set it to go off in the afternoon – again. The second alarm went off as I got up. For a change I walked to the bus station rather than calling for a taxi. Maybe half hour or so later and after a stop at Boots for more toiletries, I arrived with ten minutes to spare.

From Cambridge to Luton Airport, the only public transport option is the number 787 coach run by National Express. It’s the same bus, which meanders through half dozen or so towns before getting to Heathrow Airport. I won’t miss that bus when I’m out of here. Even just getting to Luton Airport, it stops at Royston, Baldock, Hitchin and Luton before getting to the airport. You get to see all these countryside and towns you never wanted to see.

Thankfully Luton Airport itself was fairly manageable in size if a bit dark and dingy like much of England. It also was crawling with the Salsa people heading to Athens like me. The first one I spot was a guy I think is with Laith Sami’s group entering the WC. At the queue at the gate, it became evident that perhaps as many as half of the London group would be on the flight. Some I recognized by face only while I knew a few by name as well, but a rather large number perhaps half I deduced to be in the group by the way they interacted with each other.

“Hello, sir” came from Shaan. Maybe I come across as aloof. Most of the times even with people we become reasonably familiar with, the best we manage is to offer smiles at each other. Inside Salsa party is not exactly conducive to conversations with loud music and people busy dancing and whatnot.

I drifted in and out of Survivor (by Chuck Palahniuk). This is the one where the story is told mostly in reverse-time. Moreover the pages are ordered backwards, but the chapters are not. This means I have to flip a few pages to get to the start of a new chapter, and then flip backwards as I read over the paragraph. It took me two or three chapters before I figured out the entire system. On the plane, I came across a part involving dancing Cha-Cha with Fertility Hollis.

For lunch, I bought two sandwiches from Pret-A-Manger. I suppose two is something of an overkill, but I managed to miss lunch twice this week because I wasn’t able to get to the diner at work on time. It seemed like I might have lost some weight by mid-late week, and I don’t have a big desire to lose weight at this time.

Athens

Nice airport. There was nothing frivolous but it had a bright and airy atmosphere. The passport check was beyond simple. Baggage claim was efficient. Rail transport to downtown Athens looked brand spanking new – clean and spacious (though not as spacious as Hamburg). The fare was rather expensive (10 euros for return trip – but seemingly for a limited time – the ticket operator asked me when I was returning and he gave me a ticket that said 48 hours when I replied Sunday), but it’s still cheaper than taxi.

At least two other couples from UK in Salsa business took the Metro with me. I think the big London group opted for taxi. One of the couples (one was Wesley from Birmingham) actually exited at Akropoli station like me. It turned out that they booked at the same hotel. Moreover, they were bumped to a sister hotel like me as well. I originally booked at Phillipos Hotel, but found myself at the Herodion Hotel. I suppose it’s an upgrade from 3 star to 4 star hotel, but I couldn’t tell you if there was any real tangible benefit. The bed is big (queen size), but it dips in the middle.

By the time I finished minimal unpacking in the hotel room, I was hungry again. Local time was around 9:30 meaning it was not even close to my usual dinner time back in GMT. Based upon information I gathered at a highly extensive Athens Guide free on internet, I had settled on one of the two touristy but good local taverns not faraway from my hotel in the Plaka. Coming up with options for meals has become a rather high priority whenever I visit a new city. Plans can fail (e.g. York), but alternative seems like an almost certain failure.

In choosing tonight’s restaurant, I think I scored a solid hit. Vyzantino Taverna served very solid Greek food at the heart of Plaka leaden with tourist traps. Based on how the internet review and my take on Vyzanitino, I’d guess that the Plaka Restaurant next door would have been a solid back-up choice. I had the special of the day fish cooked with lemon sauce (8 euros), which was delicious. It came with spinach, which was decent, and zucchini, which I wasn’t too thrilled with. I had also ordered Tzatzi (more like a yogurt sauce with some fresh vegetables rather than salad) as an appetizer (4 euros). I had not ordered any bread (1 euro), but the restaurant ordered it for me, which was actually quite appropriate. My assessment is that I would have been better off ordering a regular salad or perhaps just bread and butter on the side. Tzatzhi probably isn’t for just one person unless he or she really likes it.

Friday social

The Tram to the Taekwondo Stadium on the other hand was painfully slow - the guidebooks describe it as leisurely. After a <5 minute walk to the Loeforos Voullagmenis station, it was going to be a slow 19-stop or 20-stop trek to Aghia Skepi. After 12 stops and about 20 minutes, I lost patience and decided to get off at Amfitheas. I walked rest of the way thinking that I might save time this way. Perhaps 15 minutes later as I approached Aghia Skepi, I saw a Tram arrive from the direction I would have come from. So I didn’t save any time by taking the “shortcut.”

Perhaps even worse was finding the entrance to the stadium. It was so frustrating. I bet it took me at least 10 minutes after spotting the stadium to get to the entrance. The venue location in fact was the least attractive thing about this Athens Salsa Festival. It was far from the historical city center and without a decent Metro access. When I was booking for a hotel, I did consider picking a hotel very close to the Salsa venue, which would have made trips to and from the airport and tourist sites more problematic. A hotel with good Line 2 Tram access as well to the tourist sites and Metro was my ultimate compromise. I would not be surprised if the access to the venue from the hotel and city centre turns out to be the biggest complaint from the out-of-towners.

The first person I knew and chatted with was AndrewS, who informed me that I had arrived just in time to hear to first song after the performances. In the end I managed to arrive shortly after midnight after all the shows were finished. Hooray! I had a few dances before New Swing Sextet started off. Mario was the second person I exchanged greetings with followed by Roger from Hemel Hempstead and then Mark and Lisa from Oxford. In all there must have been well over 30 maybe over 40 people from the United Kingdom, including the girl I think of as “Abby Bridges” and Rico (maybe he was there with the Laith Sami group – I seem to recall seeing that name on the list of performers somewhere).

Some of the early dances featured partners, who seemed too intent to show off their skills. That got a little tiring especially dancing to a live band playing long-ish songs. I also felt slightly dehydrated early, which I overcame by buying three bottles of water at the start of the evening. The bar was rather far away from the dance floor, but water was cheap (0.50 euros for 500 ml bottles). I danced mostly on the main floor, but I also had one dance on the concourses with marble floor with a girl, who probably was a bit intimidated. I think her friend videotaped us, which I found amusing. In retrospect, it was a great space to make a spectacle of yourself.

I think this Friday compared favorably to the UK Congress at Bournemouth in terms of social dancing tonight. I think this was a little better than Hamburg this summer also. All dances were singletons. There was only one girl I was tempted to ask more than once mostly because the first dance was to a Cha Cha – not particularly good one at that (I Like It Like That done by New Swing Sextet – I would have preferred El Raton). I recognized and danced with more than a few faces from the Hamburg Congress. I also danced with a handful of London girls. In one case, I amused myself by cutting in to ask a girl displacing Mario. It ended up a Cha Cha also.

The songs played by New Swing Sextet included Che Che, My Favorite Things (I might have been dancing on marble floor for this one – either this or En El Balcon or perhaps Maria Cervantes), El Bongo, Bobo Tu Te Quedaras, En El Balcon, Maria Cervantes and La Palomilla at the end. There was a short burst of fireworks followed by explosion of streamers. It was cute, but it would have been even better if they could have cleared the streamer from the floor at the end of the show – maybe taking a quick 5 minute break to clear the debris.

Probably around 30-40% of my dances were On2. Right now I don’t have a clear preference for On2 over On1 although some songs seem to suit one of the other. The song I danced with “Abby” for example was something I had difficulty getting into for On2 timing so I quickly switched to On1 despite the fact that she most likely prefers On2. I think it also depends heavily on what the follower is comfortable with. The proportion of followers, who expressed a preference for On2 increased as hours progressed for whatever its worth.

A benefit or penalty for not attending the shows (and workshops) is that I am quite limited in being able recognize the “elite” by their face. I did spot previously never seen-live Magna for a brief second. I know Susana and Shelley, but most others are mysteries to me (e.g. Vanda, Tamara (who I might have danced with at Salsa Kingdom) … heck I can’t even remember who else was supposed to be there). Oh yeah – there’s Lisa, whom I am under the impression that she would be happy dancing with Mark 90% of the time even at major Congresses. The only other celebrity Salsa Congress circuit female personalities I might be able to recognize at an airport would be Edie and Burju.

Henry Knowles was stuck somewhere in Asia. I actually liked the substitute DJ, who played a few decent covers. Julian the Duke was better than usual as well although he did resort back to playing Avisale A Mi Contrario, which I skipped. Songs played included Muneca (unknown cover), Nina Y Senora (TP), Lluvia (unknown cover), Mujer Erotica, Perdoname, Alejate (HL). There were plenty of songs I did not recognize. On the whole, I don’t think there was a single song I really disliked all night in the main room.

The main room with nothing but two Cha Cha all night closed around 4:20 AM. The after-party moved to “Room B” with a series of Reggaeton, a Merengue, a Bachata followed by a Timba before moving back to Salsa, which still seemed to be the genre of choice for most people still there. By this time, my feet were feeling sore so I ended up not dancing at all during the after party. I finally exited the room around 5:30 AM.

I caught a Tram going back directly to Syntagma after about 8 minute wait. It took about 35 minutes to get to my station. It wasn’t too bad in grand scheme of things although taxi no doubt would have been faster. A group of Londoners including Andrew and Shelley were using that option (back to a hotel called Metropolis). Breakfast started at 7 AM, so I stayed up a little longer for it before hitting the bed.