Athens 24/06/26

I loved Athens. I was nervous flying in, as it was the first two days on my trip I’d be alone. It turned into nervous excitement.

Maybe all Western souls feel tied to Greece; we’re taught that its history is the root of our culture and thought. For me too, Greece is where Henry miller wrote the colossus of maroussi, a book I can remember next to nothing, only the feeling I had when I read it as a 19 year old at university, when I was innocent and excited by these ideas, had the space to think about them and was not weighed down by more life, more experience. It’s funny how the past plays out in you in weird ways.

I spent two days walking around in the heat, and saw the Parthenon, of course, and all the pots and statues in the archeological museum and dusty hills around the centre. I ate turkey pastries, drank loads of freddo espresso, and met the ubiquitous, inevitable crazy Dutchman that lurks in all hostels. It feels like there are bookshops everywhere, even in the coach station, and cool bars and cool people. I’d love to go back.

From there, a long coach along the coast to Igoumenitsa, for a ferry to Corfu