Athens, Part 2

At the time of initial posting, my mind was like a scrambled egg. I thought I really should edit the entire post with a clearer head, but I thought there was not much risk in posting an early draft for friends. Wrong.

November 29, 2008

Search for a perfect souvlaki / gyros

Typical map of Athens does not tell the whole story for those on foot. What looks like a short cut can often turn out to be worth very little. This is because Athens is full of steep hills. Instead of doing the usual touristy things, I opted to go in search of a Souvlaki shop called Paliakis in what turned out to be very hilly area called Mets.

For tourists who want to make a trek to this shop, start from the old Panathenaic Olympic Stadium circa 1896. Walk past it on either its left or right – climb a long flight of stairs and then go further uphill to a small green oasis of Varnava Square. Hidden behind some trees are the sign for Paliakis (written in Greek only). It looks like nothing but a quickie Souvlaki take-away joint (not unlike a Kebab joint) with no seating.

I enjoyed their Gyros (or Souvlaki sandwich in tourist-only slang - see here, here and here for discussion on Souvlaki), and downed them with Coca Cola. I had one pork gyro and one chicken gyro costing 2 euros or less each. I wouldn’t call it a destination for typical tourists, but I’m a sucker for the native experience – a jaunt away from the beaten path even in the rain.

I brought an umbrella with me after a lesson well learned from Hamburg. While it was never pouring like it did in Hamburg, it was nice to have around. Less well-planned was the decision to carry my laptop around with a silly idea that I might wander over to Syntagma Square to take advantage of free public wireless internet access. It was compounded by the choice to wear a overcoat – it is considerably warmer in Athens compared to the UK.

After a detour through National Gardens and not quite making it to the Temple of the Olympian Zeus and Hadrian’s Arch, I dropped off my laptop back at the hotel and changed to a lighter jacket before heading up the Acropolis.

Acropolis

By the time I hit the trail towards Acropolis, it was already past 3:30 PM. Steady light rain seemed to have kept pedestrian traffic to minimum. The ticketing agent said I had plenty of time left and that it took only 45 minutes to see all of Acropolis. I took time going up the hill past the Amphitheatre of Dionysius and up the Propylaea via the Erechtheion to the top of Acropolis where the remains of Parthenon and Temple of Athene Nike stood. It was empty save a few buildings and maybe fifty people milling about.

All around Acropolis human dwellings packed the surrounding area to distant mountains save some parks and steep hills. I wondered what a time traveller from ancient Athens would make of the vast area covered with buildings. I tried to imagine where the ancient walls would have stood from which old citizens of Athens watched Spartans burn the fields of plains of Attica during the Peloponnesian War. I tried to look to the sea and Piraeus and find the wall between the port of Piraeus and Athens.

Perhaps half of the tourists seemed more interested in the sights of modern Athens from up high more than few derelict buildings with far-from-complete restoration job. The replacement blocks of marble were cut smooth on the outside, but the facing inside marbles were smooth round like massive pebbles. I would venture to guess that ancient Athenians did not believe in keeping things looking natural or primitive inside their monuments and places of their mysteries and worship while making great efforts at grandiosity on the outside.

I found it quite unnerving to go near the edge. Perhaps the light wind made it worse. I was reminded of all the times I would go mountain climbing while avoiding looking down. Heck, it makes me nervous to watch other people go near the edge. At least the rain had now stopped.

My camera battery failed while I tried to take a photo of the Parthenon. I was surprised because I had fully charged it just before the trip and I had taken maybe 20-30 photos at most up until that point. The back-up battery was left behind at the hotel so it meant more watching and less picture taking. I probably stared at the better-preserved inner friezes of Parthenon than I would have otherwise.

I ambled back via the Eastern slopes as the attendants were eagerly trying to get the small number of tourists walking about despite less than ideal weather. I also stopped by briefly at the New Acropolis Musuem with its sneak peek exhibits open before the official opening in March of 2008. This museum is on a block right next to Herodion Hotel.

Back at the hotel I was amused to find Gossip Girl on one of the channels. I think it must have been the Christmas episode from season 1. Sometimes I find the supposedly evil nasty characters on television irresistible. Count Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass from GG as some recent examples. Ditto Greg House.

For dinner, I decided to try the places near Syntagma with a hope that I might be able to find free internet access at or near the restaurant. First I checked Japanese and Korean restaurants near each other. The Japanese Furin Kazan (Apollonos) had received an indirect positive review at Athens Survival Guide. It looked okay, but I decided that I really wasn’t in the mood for Japanese. As for Korean restaurant called Dosirak (Voulis), it came nowhere close to a passing grade for a proper dinner spot. Maybe lunch would have been okay.

Next I went back to the Greek option. Paradosiako at the corner of Voulis and Nikodimou was about to close, and the proprietor directed me to a sister chain nearby, which was my backup option anyway. The sister branch Oinomagerio Paradosiako (next door to Furin Kazan) in fact is supposedly run by the son and daughter of the original restaurant. As a matter of fact the proprietor from the first restaurant arrived during my dinner to say hello to her daughter and maybe help out a bit. I had cod fillet (it looked deep fried) and a potato salad. It was as good Greek cuisine – home cooking style. Part 1 of the Athens entry was posted here.

Saturday Social

I diverted myself on the long tram ride by reading a book. I did end up walking from one station to the next in order to catch a faster connection. About an hour later shortly after midnight I entered the venue as they announced the start of Ye Mambo performance. Yamulee was next after I checked my coat and found a seat, but perhaps I was still not settled enough and they made no impression on me.

I guess the first performance I really paid attention to was the Tropical Gem, who was up next. Disaster. They went contemporary/modern/artsy/whatever on us - pretentious boring bullshit. The intro was especially painful – spoken clichéd word only. For whatever its worth, I have seen them three times before, and they were extremely fun to watch then.

Eddie Torres was next. I find him a bit bland although certainly very graceful as a performer. I adore his music selections – they are consistently outstanding. It got me on my feet and when I saw a stream of people starting to flood the main floor, I eagerly joined them excited. For me choosing the right music is half the battle – preferably just one song rather than some mix stitched together.

Last was the Swing Guys. I’m beyond the stage of being bored with them so that I can now tolerate them more than I did a performance or two ago. They might have changed some minor choreography in the middle but it is still the same one with the bicycle intro.

Se Me Fue, Me Libere, El Menu, Brujeria, Vagabundo, Ojos Chinos (?), Timbalero (finale), Fiesta Del Pilito (encore) were some of the songs El Gran Combo played. I didn’t recogize the sole Cha Cha, but I ended up dancing with the same adorable Greek girl I also danced Cha Cha to New Swing Sextet last night. I failed to recognize maybe 2 or 3 of the songs at most. The band was good, but I thought things got a bit formulaic after a while. They would start with a short intro then get into chorus and stay there for a while before finishing. After a while, everything to me sounded the same.

I think it took me a full hour to recover from the band hangover. Actually things were uneven until Fiesta Del Pilito, where I hit one of the two lowest points of the night (with someone I had an okay dance with the night before). Things remained uneven for next hour before I hit another low point – this time with someone I have had good dances with three times in Germany and again last night.

Finally two fun dances in a row put me back on the right track. One was with someone I danced with before – probably at Hamburg. She made me think of Edie but perhaps more provocative. I can’t tell you if she really liked dancing with me also, but she was at the very least very good at acting that way. I don’t know if such style of dancing can be maintained dancing with same person all night, but I wouldn’t have minded if she was willing. For whatever its worth, I did dance with her again maybe an hour later and it was just as good. Dances like these to me reinforce my opinion that there is nothing inherent superior about On2 compared to On1 or vice versa. It’s the dancer not the style dammit.

A rarity was multiple dances with strangers on a same night in a Congress setting. It happens but usually no more than with one or maybe two people. There were three tonight. That’s high considering that I would qualify this as a big Salsa congress and that I generally don’t dance more than once a night even with people I know well in Congress setting.

Valentyna was a most adorable and friendly Greek girl ever as well as a supremely pliant follower. After two Cha Cha in a row over two nights, I danced with her for two more Salsa. Despite protests of exhaustion and sore feet, she managed to dance anyway until the main room closed. In being the first stranger ever I made a decision to ask multiple times the next day (with a ready excuse that I wasn’t going to be around on Sunday). Maybe I can declare her the most memorable partner of this Congress or just another Congress chick to whom I lost a little bit of my heart and will never see again.

The third was Amanda. Two tonight. It was more or less planned. I might even call it a social experiment. Too bad it could not have been done double-blind. Based upon the first dance alone, I would not have asked her second time. However, the second dance was very good. I don’t know if the difference was a matter of getting used to each other or if her knowing who I was before the start of second dance had any effect.

On a related topic, I did not feed SM any chocolate.

Do I want to say anything about Jeans from Madrid? Or Plastico? Or about bad memory, misinformation or difficulty in communicating in noisy space? I think I'll leave it as a series of question.

The main room remained open until past 5 AM. By then I was quite tired and was with sore feet. I think my new shoes even after a breaking-in period remains to be a poor substitute for my old one. The only advantage of the new shoe over the old one is softer heel, which might make it slightly less painful to be kicked by it. I stayed to watch and videotape parts of the after party until around 7.

I had to run to catch the tram to Syntagma. There was not enough time to buy a ticket. On the same tram were Wesley and his Greek girlfriend. We passed a lot of time of chatting back to the hotel on the slow-moving tram and a <5 minute walk back to Herodion. Breakfast, shower then bed.

November 30, 2008

The pain, the pain

I couldn’t walk. No, not exactly. After all I walked a loop around Acropolis to catch a glimpse of the ancient Agora, the flea market, Monastiraki, near Syntagma and by the Temple of Olympian Zeus before returning to the hotel. It was merely quite painful to land on my right foot while walking. This is another first – after 7 Salsa congresses. It’s gotta be the shoes.

While in Monastiraki, I looked at the Souvlaki shops there – mainly Bairaktaris (a.k.a. Mpairaktaris?) and Thanasis right across the street. I think their rivalry might be not unlike the one between Panathinaikos and Olympiacos. Bairaktaris probably dominates in sales figures due to all the structural advantages (more visibility, larger seating area, etc) while Thanasis appeared to be the underdog of choice for some of the guidebooks, taxi drivers, etc. I for one found neither appetizing. I was in a rush so I ended up having a gyro from Quick Pitta nearby instead. It was merely edible.

Epilogue (subtitle: now that wasn’t so smart, was it?)

I had gotten a mistaken impression that my flight was to depart at 7:20 PM rather than 8:20 PM. So I hurried and limped out of the hotel shortly after 4 PM thinking that Metro service to the airport on a Sunday might not be particularly reliable. Indeed between the time I arrived at the Syntagma station via Akropoli and the next train to the airport, there was nearly 30 minute wait – most of which I spent at Plakentias station four stops away from the airport.

Despite the delays on the Metro, I essentially arrived at the airport before my flight’s check-in was supposed to open. I was a bit chagrined. I could have taken a more leisurely stroll. I could have wandered around in the ancient Agora and maybe the Roman Agora rather than rushing past it. Passport check for leaving Athens took a bit longer compared to entering. The airport had free internet, but I didn’t have enough material written down for another post.

Once on the plane, I fell asleep for perhaps two-thirds of the flight. Too tired. Usually I would have trouble sleeping on the plane even if I tried. Maybe half dozen people from the UK contingent of the Salsa congress was on this flight, but I didn’t interact with them except for a few brief moments before boarding the flight.

The flight was supposed to land at 10:20. The coach to Cambridge was due to leave Luton Airport at 11:25 with next coach having a terrible schedule. So I knew that there was an element of risk in having chosen this itinerary. The flight arrived more or less on time, but the trouble started with a long delay in getting the mobile stairs ready to allow passengers to disembark.

Twenty minutes later a ridiculously long queue faced us as we climbed up from the landing strip to the airport terminal. The line stretched so that newly arriving passengers was thrust onto a middle of a very long queue with no end in sight on both sides. Probably more than half the people on our flight ended up cutting into the middle of the existing line because the alternative was to struggle past a throng of people occupying the other half of the corridor to get to actual end of the line – wherever that was.

It was either the longest queue I have ever been on for passport control or a close second. This is saying a lot because I find that these passport control queues are always poor – requiring 15 to 30 minutes most of the time. On the other hand, the other European cities have been much better for me whether it was Munich, Jerez, Madrid, Prague, Hamburg or Athens. I missed my coach by a solid 20 minutes.

What next? I knew that the next coach would not arrive for quite some time and would not get to Cambridge until early in the morning. Going to London central to catch the train would not have been any better. So eat something first. I unnecessarily used the internet to check the National Express schedule. Next coach was scheduled to leave at 2:55.

I took a fast-moving coach to Stansted while struggling with overheated bus. The waiting station at Stansted on the other hand was freezing cold. I finally got on the coach connection to Cambridge departing around 5 and arriving around 5:45 AM. At least this coach had a more reasonable if slightly cool temperature. There was no sign of taxi anywhere so I walked home breathing in cold air – a shock compared to mild Athens. Just like that the plan to rest on Sunday night to get a better handle on the week went down the chutes with nearly 6 hours added to the return trip. I think this night easily would rank as one my personal top-10 worst nights ever.

Did I mention I long to get out of this endless source for frustration I call England? I have been thinking periodically about whether leaving would be sensible no more than a month or two after arriving and more or less on yearly basis. I suppose I will look back on my times here fondly after a passage of time, but I do look forward to leaving.

December 2, 2008

After

Some loser on an internet forum found an early draft of this post, and he decided to copy and paste a segment of my posts. I think his editing skills are dubious at best, and it is a little unfortunate to have to live with unfinished and rough abridged draft of my writing floating in the internet away from my control.

Settling back to normal pace likely would take a few days. Next adventure through those doors will happen soon – maybe as early as tonight.