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It had been a long day featuring a 2 hour drive, a 3 hour flight and a 2 hour ferry ride. I could easily have been tired and grumpy and almost anywhere else in the world that would likely have been the case. This, however was Greece - my spiritual home and whenever I return here my spirits soar. And it was time to eat.
I sat at the table, waiting whilst the owner of the taverna laughed and wrestled with a paper tablecloth that insisted on following a path which was being determined by the warm Meltemi winds rather than his gargantuan efforts. The view was spectacular and a welcome distraction to the battle taking place in front of me. The sky was an intense blue, the colour being reflected by the sea which pounded the rocks below. The rest of the Greek family who owned the establishment were laughing and talking loudly. The fish that they promised me had been caught earlier that day and the ouzo that I sipped was fiery and full of aniseed.
The days rolled by, I was happy, but then another truth about Greece made itself evidently clear.
Ancient monuments, beautiful islands, hedonistic parties, wild mountains. Whenever you hear about Greece being a land of contrasts, these are the images that come to mind for most people.
The contrast that struck me so forcefully though is actually about three people, two of whom I have met and one that I read about this morning.
Let's start with Athena. This is not her real name - she asked to remain anonymous. She had been bringing our beer at our favourite beach bar earned after a hard morning of sunbathing and snorkeling. This had been the pattern for over a week before we spoke. Pretty with jet black hair she wore heavy framed glasses and in truth I had assumed that her English was poor so to my regret I had never really attempted any conversation.
However, that day, there had been a power cut across the whole of the island. In fluent English, she apologised for serving warm beer and went on to tell us that there would be no electricity for several days. Something to do with the power cable that feeds the island. Knowing that the season was coming to an end and that there were only a hundred permanent residents over winter, I asked about her plans. Turns out she is due to start a PhD in Polymer Chemistry and the fourteen hour days she had been working were to help her through university. However, the university is struggling to fund the course because of the recession, so just a few days before she is due to start it is uncertain whether it would go ahead. What a bloody waste. All we could do was leave a large tip and wish her good luck.
I felt unreasonably angry. Not just because of her plight but also because of a gentleman that I had bumped into the previous night. I had stepped into the village mini mall to buy some bottles of water only to find it occupied by one of the most unpleasant people I have ever come across. He and his sidekick were buying champagne. Lots of champagne and loudly. They would pick a bottle off the shelf and shout aggressively across the store demanding the price. If it was too cheap they put it back. How much? 350 euros invented the store owner in exasperation. “We’ll take them all”, came the reply!
The following morning I found an excuse to go back. The store owner recognised me, grinned widely and asked if I wanted a 350 euro bottle of champagne. Of course. I had to ask about the idiot the night before. Turns out he was Russian and had come in on one of the yachts moored in the marina. Thing is, they were spending the night at the boutique hotel up the hill. Does it happen often I asked. Yes and they usually pull out a wad of 500 euro notes.
Now I didn't know if my new friend was exaggerating. I have never even seen a 500 euro note and they might not exist but having watched the Russians in action, it wouldn't surprise me
Accepting that I am biased, believing massively in education and having an inbuilt dislike of Russian oligarchs that I have met (albeit a very small number) I could not help but feel that if you could funnel some of Dimitri’s wealth in Athena’s direction, the world would be a much fairer place. Maybe I need to teach her the 350 euro champagne trick..
Finally I read this morning about a retired lecturer who was killed by a pack of wild dogs after visiting an archeological site on the Greek mainland. Apparently there are thousands of dogs running wild because their owners can't afford to feed them. It was a tragedy for her family but also sad for all the people that have been hit so badly by this recession. I don't think that the 350 euro champagne trick is going to help them. This is the plight of modern Greece.
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Beautiful antique desk and a comfy vintage office chair. 
designsponge.com
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Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.
JRR Tolkien
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This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat; by day it stood voiceless and cast its long shadow.
Mervyn Peake
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What would I write here?
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Beautiful antique desk and a comfy vintage office chair. 
designsponge.com
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Clear the clutter. Let me write.
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It was just another Greek wedding.  But what a setting.
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Lucky Me!
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Perdika is a beautiful village out on the tip of Aegina island. In contrast to bustling Aegina town, its neighbor across the bay, Perdika boasts just a few tavernas and a sea view from wherever you stand. The walk around the beautiful church gives a spectacular view across the sparkling, vivid blue sea to the islands of Moni and Agistri and at night old fashioned lamp posts illuminate the pavement. That is, those that are still working because Perdika suffers from the same illness as the rest of Greece. Lack of money. If something breaks, it has to stay broken and so walking back at night becomes more or less ‘interesting’ depending on the phase of the moon.
Aris has lived here for most of his life and has seen few changes. Once he took his boat out into the bay to fish for sardines to sell to the local tavernas but now, well past retirement age, he contents himself with gathering shellfish for bait and then lowering a line into the water from the rocks at the end of the headland. His pension amounts to just pennies so it’s a time for celebration when a fish bites. Despite his apparent poverty, he is one of the happiest people that I have ever met.
Just 100m away is irony at its most bitter. ‘Lucky Me’ is the name emblazoned on the stern in bold Cyrillic script and I can’t decide if the owner of this so called super yacht is too dumb to realize the contrast between people like Aris and himself or realizes and just doesn’t care.
The boat is a statement in elegance, sleek and black, looking like something that a James Bond villain would own. So of course I had to do some research. Built in Italy in 2016, it was originally owned by a charter group who rented it out for a cool two hundred thousand pounds per week. I think that needs repeating. Two hundred thousand pounds for one week. Almost the cost of the average house in the UK for one week of sailing from one port to another, walking ashore and sitting and eating at the same tavernas at which I eat and drink. It’s just mind boggling. But the story gets better.
Lucky Me was then sold to a private owner for a mere 25 million or so.
This 56m behemoth which remember is sitting in a tiny Greek fishing port carries 50000 litres of diesel. Just to save you the maths, that’s £75000 of diesel. Just think of that the next time you call into the petrol station and ask them to fill it up. The James Bond villain connection continues when you learn that the new owner hired an Israeli company to install a maritime cyber defence system.
Why on earth would he fear a cyber attack cruising around the Greek islands? Unfortunately, Google had taken me as far as I could go and there doesn’t seem to be a record of his identity anywhere. But of course, you would expect that from someone who is planning to take over the world, Mr. Bond.
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Port on the water
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What we do not write
For those who do exist
We write for those
Who do not exist
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Graffiti or Street Art?
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Street art or graffiti?
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#spring #bretagne #france #chateau #trevarez
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Time for a plan. Book 3 in the trilogy is due.
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