By Bruce F. Krueger
I have been meaning to get back to Athens for years. But this past year I made a firm decision, so I started to study Greek. Diligently. Several hours a day. Seven months of work. And I started getting good. And then a couple of months ago, even though I continued to study hard, I started to worsen. I put this down to three things: Donald Trump as President is distracting; my old brain cells aren’t what they used to be; and, finally, although I have some talents, facility with other languages does not seem to be one of them. Be that as it may, I did a deep dive into Greece.
I took Greek dance classes, I practiced Theodorakis’ Zorba the Greek on guitar, I went to Greek restaurants, and I watched every Greek movie I could get my hands on. I got a real appreciation for Irene Papas. I first went to Athens in May 1991 with my yet-to-be third ex-wife. Somehow, I had qualified with frequent flyer miles, and Athens was as far as Pan Am (that wonderful airline) would allow me to go. We had a great time. And by the end of the year, the Soviet Union collapsed, and I had to figure out what am I going to do with the rest of my life? With No. More. Revolution? Well, I thought of Greece and I started reading the plays, then the histories, the literature, and the philosophies. And I kept this up for years and years. I found solace that the ancient Greeks had the same kind of problems we do today. And they couldn’t solve them either.
I no longer felt alone. I marvelled at how the classical Greeks were doing physics, geometry, astronomy, and medicine, while all of our ancestors were struggling to construct fashionable hats out of mud and twigs. So, I couldn’t wait to get back. And it was wonderful. And if my descriptions seem overly long, that’s because I don’t want to forget anything. I’m not sure I’ll get back there, and that’s a pity. But at least there’s memory. Πάμε!
We (Nadine, my iPhone and I) begin our tour as we should at the Hellenic Parliament on Syntagma Square. Originally built as a palace for Otto, the King of Greece from Bavaria until he was thrown out in 1862, it became a Parliament in 1925 (a hundred years after it was built). Greece is on its Third Republic since the end of the Junta in 1974. Syntagma is Greek word for Constitution.
The thing to see at Syntagma is the changing of the guards. Especially on Sunday at 11AM, when there’s a whole troop of guards in their dress whites accompanied by a marching band around the tomb of the unknown soldier. Unfortunately, we would be touring in the Peloponnese then.
Fortunately, they change the guards every hour on the hour, twenty-four hours a day. The regular ceremony consists of two guards leaving and two new ones replacing, along with one additional solder who acts as kind of a fulcrum and escort. There is an additional soldier (or two) dressed in camouflage on the side who occasionally bark out the change commands.To be honest, I added the piano score of the Greek National Anthem, but it fits perfectly, and it makes me wonder if they’ve been humming it to themselves all along?
Next to Parliament Building is the lovely National Park. When I first came to Greece, there were dozens of older men watching the cages containing their canaries just inside the entrance. It was wonderful, and as you can imagine quite melodic. They are no longer here, and I can find no mention of this ever happening at all. Pity.
However the park is still a must because the Garden of Epicurus (my philosopher hero) is not to be found. There are several conjectures as to where it was originally, but whenever that is, modern Athens has taken it over. So this must needs be my Epicurean Idyll.
Of course, on your first full day, you’ll want to climb the Acropolis and see the sites of ancient Athens (counterclockwise): the Propylaea entrance, the Parthenon, and the Erecthion with its six caryatids. (Also pictured are the stones from Ikea, which will be used in restoration if they can find the assembly diagram.)
The New Acropolis Museum, which replaces the old one on the hill, is huge. It has a vast collection. However it will still easily have room for the pilfered Elgin Marbles as soon as they can pry them from the thieving British privateers.
Among the Must Sees on this trip is anything having to do with Melina Mercouri, a wonderful actress (Ilya in Never on Sunday), a committed leftist, and an active campaigner for ancient and modern Greek culture. Her well-deserved monument is across the street from the Temple of Olympian Zeus and Hadrian’s Arch.
Besides the Acropolis are the ruins of the Ancient Agora of Athens, a place where Athenians shopped, worshipped, gossiped, and partied. The Stoa of Attalos is a covered walkway built during the later Hellenistic Period just before Roman rule. Today it houses a museum where we found the Tyrannicides: The younger, Aristogeiton, was approached by Hipparchus, the brother to Hippias the Tyrant of Athens. Aristogeiton told the older, Harmodius, about it. The lovers stabbed Hipparchus during the Panathenaic Festival of 514 and a few years later in 510, Hippias was forced into exile, which led to the democratic reforms of Cleisthenes and the famous Ancient Athens we know now.
Speaking of the Agora, in Athens there is always much shopping, we decided to pass on this particular offering. But I wouldn’t have missed seeing it for the world!
Culinary Notes From All Over™ No. 2
We could not fail to visit Barbounaki in Kolonaki. We showed up without a reservation, but they let us in. We were there for eel. Our research had discovered there were only two restaurants in Athens that served it, but upon arrival, it appeared Kafé Avissinia no longer did. So tonight was critical. Critical.
Decades ago there was a Vietnamese Restaurant downtown that offered eel soup. It was so delicious that I went there at least every two weeks. But then it went out of business and I’ve never found another Vietnamese Restaurant that has it. Of course, there is sashimi Unagi, which is very, very good, but such small portions.
Later, I found out that Aristophanes adored eels. Especially those from Lake Copais. Now Lake Copais was in Boeotia (Theban territory), and because of the Peloponnesian War off limits to Athens. Aristophanes wrote about them in three plays:
Lysistrata–
LYSISTRATA: Wipe out the Boeotians!
CALCONICE: Not utterly. Have mercy on the eels!
Peace-
DICAEPOLIS: Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let me salute your eels.
The Archanians-
“Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years of absence. Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply coal to do honor to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself could not separate me from her.”
So we ordered a small bottle of Babatzim Tsipouro, a dish of marinated anchovies, and a plate of salted smoked eel. It was heaven. It was so good, we ordered a second plate. For when we will get another chance?
The National Archeological Museum is not to be missed. It has the best collection of Greek antiquities going. It takes quite awhile to see it all.
One thing you may notice is that there are a hell of a lot of Penguin Classic covers displayed here (including the gold crown for the Three Theban Plays of Oedipus).
One of these Penguin Classic publications was the two volume Greek Myths of Robert Graves. The author propounded a theory, which mostly has been ignored but I find compelling, that prehistoric religion and therefore probably society was matriarchal. Note well the Cycladic figures here: breasts and pregnancy.
This female dominance was obvious with the Minoans, but ended with the Mycenaeans. And, according to Graves, the Greek myths are metaphorical stories alluding to this change occurring. In many cases the female principle is presented as monstrous and is defeated by the male Greek hero. Thus Perseus slew Medusa, Bellerophon slew the Chimera, and Oedipus overcame the Sphinx. The old female deities are overcome by the new male demigods.
Other scholars ignore this thesis, but they don’t really shoot it down. And NO one seems to be researching it anymore. Well, IF I were a hundred years younger, and studied languages when I had an agile brain, and I wasn’t so inclined to crack satirical jokes, I would have made researching this my lifelong vocation.
I came to Robert Graves via John Barth and his book The Chimera. To appreciate Barth’s pithy writing, you need to have Graves’ Myths nearby as a reference. And when you read the myths, you get the Sphinx, and you get her Riddle, which is doubly ironic since it not only describes “man” but Oedipus himself who will one day be blind and therefore need a walking stick. I can sympathize with Oedipus, but as I accept Graves’ theory, I adore the Sphinx.
Now that we’ve exercised the brain, we need to exercise the body. Lycabettus is one of three famous prominences in Athens, seen here from the Acropolis, which is another. Fortunately, there is a funicular (what the Greeks call Telefernik) that will take you to the top. But first you have to get to the Telefernik…
It’s just at the top of ALL those stairs. I didn’t count the steps, but Nadine, who has access to these things, estimates that it was in the area of 25 flights. Once you get to the top, you can look at the Acropolis (“Hey Shorty!!”) Fortunately, there is a restaurant up there with a small bar where you can get a much needed mojito.
When I bought the funicular ticket, they asked me if I wanted a return and, already out of breath, I wheezed, “No, I’ll just jump.” But unlike the Sphinx I couldn’t find an appropriate cliff. So I padded on down. Then I was going to have to schlep to lunch which was far away, so I did what I rarely do: I took a taxi! And, unlike New York, it was reasonable. A besides, I had nice chat with the driver. He hates Donald Trump as well!
We were looking forward to lunch at Tzimis (what you call Jimmy’s) Tavern. It’s in the Vronas neighborhood (the nearest Metro is a 30-minute walk away). Tzimis makes Kokoretsei. And Kokoretsi is seasoned sweetbreads wrapped in lamb intestine. So you know I’m going to like it. It’s not even listed on the English menu. Typical. But I knew they had it. And they quickly learned I was a cognoscenti for kokoretsi. They did list “hot peppers.” So I asked what do they mean by hot? Because Greeks aren’t known for spicy, picante foods. And they said “hot.”
Fortunately, they change the guards every hour on the hour, twenty-four hours a day. The regular ceremony consists of two guards leaving and two new ones replacing, along with one additional solder who acts as kind of a fulcrum and escort. There is an additional soldier (or two) dressed in camouflage on the side who occasionally bark out the change commands.To be honest, I added the piano score of the Greek National Anthem, but it fits perfectly, and it makes me wonder if they’ve been humming it to themselves all along?
However the park is still a must because the Garden of Epicurus (my philosopher hero) is not to be found. There are several conjectures as to where it was originally, but whenever that is, modern Athens has taken it over. So this must needs be my Epicurean Idyll.
To ease into Greek cusine, Nadine and I began our food journey at the Roof Garden Restaurant at the Hotel Grand Bretagne, which is conveniently located next to Syntagma Square. It has a lovely view of the Parthenon. We began with the Fried Rabbit Confit with wine sauce and bacon, but the main reason for being here was the turbot. Now turbot is a flat fish that is located in the eastern Mediterranean and the Baltic Sea. How they ended up in these two disparate places, I do not know.
I had my first turbot grilled in Istanbul. It was the nicest fish I had ever tasted. I’ve not been able to get it again, except in smoked slices from a Brooklyn Russian seafood outlet, which went out of business (but now back in business) because one shipment of turbot was tainted. Bummer. Anyway, this turbot brought back fond memories, although I would have preferred it without the hazelnut-yogurt sauce which was unnecessary. I will also point out that this was my first (and only) martini of the trip.
We could not fail to visit Barbounaki in Kolonaki. We showed up without a reservation, but they let us in. We were there for eel. Our research had discovered there were only two restaurants in Athens that served it, but upon arrival, it appeared Kafé Avissinia no longer did. So tonight was critical. Critical.
Decades ago there was a Vietnamese Restaurant downtown that offered eel soup. It was so delicious that I went there at least every two weeks. But then it went out of business and I’ve never found another Vietnamese Restaurant that has it. Of course, there is sashimi Unagi, which is very, very good, but such small portions.
Later, I found out that Aristophanes adored eels. Especially those from Lake Copais. Now Lake Copais was in Boeotia (Theban territory), and because of the Peloponnesian War off limits to Athens. Aristophanes wrote about them in three plays:
Lysistrata–
LYSISTRATA: Wipe out the Boeotians!
CALCONICE: Not utterly. Have mercy on the eels!
Peace-
DICAEPOLIS: Ah! my friend, you, who bring me the most delicious of fish, let me salute your eels.
The Archanians-
“Look at this charming eel, that returns to us after six long years of absence. Salute it, my children; as for myself, I will supply coal to do honor to the stranger. Take it into my house; death itself could not separate me from her.”
So we ordered a small bottle of Babatzim Tsipouro, a dish of marinated anchovies, and a plate of salted smoked eel. It was heaven. It was so good, we ordered a second plate. For when we will get another chance?
This female dominance was obvious with the Minoans, but ended with the Mycenaeans. And, according to Graves, the Greek myths are metaphorical stories alluding to this change occurring. In many cases the female principle is presented as monstrous and is defeated by the male Greek hero. Thus Perseus slew Medusa, Bellerophon slew the Chimera, and Oedipus overcame the Sphinx. The old female deities are overcome by the new male demigods.
Other scholars ignore this thesis, but they don’t really shoot it down. And NO one seems to be researching it anymore. Well, IF I were a hundred years younger, and studied languages when I had an agile brain, and I wasn’t so inclined to crack satirical jokes, I would have made researching this my lifelong vocation.
It’s just at the top of ALL those stairs. I didn’t count the steps, but Nadine, who has access to these things, estimates that it was in the area of 25 flights. Once you get to the top, you can look at the Acropolis (“Hey Shorty!!”) Fortunately, there is a restaurant up there with a small bar where you can get a much needed mojito.
So I said okay, and they brought five long, large, roasted and oiled green ones. And I must admit they were as hot as Thai chilis. And tasty too! I also ordered Skordalia because it’s one of my favorite appetizers. But they brought out a quantity fit for a truck. I did my best to eat everything (because Nadine is never there when you need her), and I think I devoured well over half of each. But as I was now as stuffed as the intestine. We took the long way home. By foot.
The next day was devoted to a guided tour of Delphi. I rarely take guided tours, but the first time I visited Delphi I went by bus, and it took forever. It was still going to be a ten-hour day, but now only two of those hours were spent on the road. It was a nice cloudy morning on Mount Parnassus, and sometimes even misty. Perfect weather for visiting Apollo and the Pythia and receiving your prophecy from the god. And for the second time I understood why Delphi was considered the center of the earth.
But lots of climbing! (I’m sensing a daily motif here.) So you go up and up and look at the Athenian Treasury, the Temple of Apollo, and the theater named… “The Ancient Theater of Delphi” How droll. And at the very top there is The Stadium (you’ve already guess the name if you paid attention). Although why any horse or human would want to race at all after that climbing is the real mystery.
But what I want to talk about is the Kronos Stone, the Omphalos. Said to be the stone the Titan Kronos swallowed instead of baby Zeus, OR maybe it was the one Zeus put there to commemorate the two eagles he sent off from opposite ends of the earth and where they met up was the center of the earth (“omphalos” in Greek means navel), OR maybe it was where Apollo slew Pytho the guardian serpent, and where Apollo took Cretan sailors to the spot to be his priests—disguised as a Dolphin (Delphi, get it?) The nicest thing about Greek myths is that there are usually variations on a theme, and since it comes from an oral tradition, you just pick and choose the one that speaks to you, like Republicans do today with conspiracies or wacky economic theories.
The stone also could have originally been a meteorite. AND… there are two fault lines right in the middle of Delphi, and from far below subterranean gases would waft up, while The Pythia, the female oracle person, would sit upon a tripod, which had additional holes to let the gases in. She would breathe in this shit and then start babbling things that the priests would interpret to the customer. And all this made for some really interesting historical and mythic predictions. Fun fact: some scientists in the late 1990s have suggested that the gases were ethylene, a stimulant that can produce euphoria. But then other scientists said bollocks to that, and proposed carbon dioxide and methane, which doesn’t sound pleasant at all. But those scientists then hedged and said that the sweet smells could have come from benzene fumes from local springs. Like myths, you pays your money and you takes your chances.
I was really happy we got most of the climbing out of the way, because there was a lot to see in the Delphi Museum. For example, the Statues of Kleobus and Biton (with a view you NEVER get to see), two brothers from Argos who figure in a wonderful story Herodotus tells about Croesus, the Lydian King who pesters the philosopher Solon to tell him who is the happiest person in the world (thinking it will be rich Croesus himself). But no! These two are the second and third happiest behind only Tellus, an Athenian. (You can read all about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tellus_of_Athens).
There is also the famous Bronze Charioteer, and here our Tour Guide explained the ancient lost wax method of bronze casting. That’s not the way I was taught and the way it’s taught today. But I think her method is much better. Live and learn.
And there’s a bust of Plutarch (local boy, from Chaeronea), who formed the basis for some of Shakespeare’s historical plays (Julius Caesar, Coriolanus). as well as being an indispensable part of any study of Ancient Greece or Rome. Fun stuff, really.
There have been many sculptures of the Sphinx, but the most famous is the Sphinx of Naxos, which was a votive to Delphi from the Naxians in the Sixth Century BC. It stood on a ten meter high column erected next to the Temple of Apollo. Unable to find a small version for home use, I sculpted my own in the early nineties. But I had few photos to work from, so I didn’t divide the wings in the back, and I didn’t learn about this feature until… now(!).
The Sphinx (meaning “throttler” according to Robert Graves) used to hang around Mount Phikion (somewhere) in Boeotia, and quizzed travelers with riddles, and devoured them when they answered incorrectly. As I mentioned before, many Greek myths have variations, and Robert Graves seeks the deeper meanings behind them for better understanding. So… I wrote a musical piece about Oedipus and his encounter with the Sphinx (“Your Money or Your Life”). I think I got it right. You can hear it here:
https://www.governmentinexile.net/bfks-oedipus-prologue
— στην πόλη Delphi, Greece.
Bruce F. Krueger, April 17 at 4:09 PM·
Me and my gal. Sorry, Nadine.
(Actually, Nadine helped the Elizaveta, the tour guide, take the photo.)
On the way back, we had lunch at Arachova, a pretty little mountain town. They had wild boar on the menu. (Say no more, Odysseus!) I had been hoping for a truly Greek “Opa!” moment. And I got one here. 
The following morning we had to get up early for a day trip to the Peloponnese. The sites included the wonderful ancient theater at Epidaurus, where every summer they hold a festival of the plays of Sophocles, Aristophanes, Euripides, and Aeschylus. Thousands attend and the acoustics are so perfect that you hear every word without electronic amplification. It must be lovely, but one would have to be in Athens July and August. So… no. Our guide demonstrated the acoustics by clapping over a central circle. It was amazing! I recorded it, but the recording does not come close to the actual experience. You just had to be there.
It’s a big theatre. There are A LOT of steps to get to the top. (According to Nadine’s calculations about ten or eleven flights).
At the Archeological Museum of Asklepieion at Epidaurus, we learned that Parian Marble is translucent.
And then it was on to the Argolid and Mycenae, the most powerful city the Bronze Age. Seen here is the famous Lion’s Gate. How did these ancients lift the huge stones (let alone the smaller ones)?? We will learn the answer later… in Athens!
We then visited the Tomb of Agamemnon. Well, probably not THE legendary Agamemnon, just somebody disguised as him.
On the road we passed Argos in the distance. Argos had a very important impact on my life. As I mentioned, I read John Barth in college. It started off with his short-story “Night Sea Journey,” which is marvelous. A friend said, “Well, if you liked that, then you should read his Chimera.” So I did, and the second story, “The Perseid” was even more impressive. It dealt with the mythic hero Perseus in middle age who is trying to get along with his wife Andromeda (whom he rescued from the sea monster Cetus). So they take a vacation back to her hometown, and eventually he meets up with Medusa again, and there are stories within stories, and a real unexpected ending. Read it. You’ll thank me. Anyway, Perseus was the King of Argos. And Argos was big in the archaic and classic era. And they were always fighting the Spartans, and face it: the Spartans were dicks.
After a long day on the Peloponnese, we needed some Ionic culture. We would get it at Kafe Avissinia. We had tagged it because they appeared to have eel. But upon arrival to the city, it didn’t look like they served it anymore. However there was a chance we would be able to hear some rebetiko, which was also high on our to-do list. Also we’d get a chance to try some SoutSoukakia, which are spicy meatballs in a cumin, garlic and tomato sauce. This dish and rebetiko originated with the Greeks in Anatolia, who had to leave in the Post Great War Greek-Turkish exchange. There was no music at the Kafe, but eel was back on the menu! Χαρά! (Joy!) On the way out, I complemented the owner about the dinner (and the eel!), and he offered me a glass of Cretan homemade rakí. Very tasty. And we discussed a cookbook his mother wrote, and how we agreed that Donald Trump is a moron.
On Monday, we took Hellenic Rail to Thebes. We didn’t need a tour. They don’t have tours to Thebes. However, if I don’t know Thebes, I know nothing. Besides being the place where Cadmus sowed the dragon teeth, Oedipus ruled (and married!) and Heracles managed to be born, Thebes was always an important city. It was the home of Pindar.
Thebes always picked the wrong side in a war: It sided with Persia against the Greeks, and with Sparta against Athens. Now this wasn’t because the Thebans were jerks, but their ruling class was. Oligarchs are useless as Bernie and AOC will tell you. It wasn’t until a revolution occurred that Thebes grew to real greatness and the hegemony of Greece after defeating the Spartans at Leuctra. But it didn’t last long, eventually Philip and the Macedonians defeated Thebes at Chaeronea, and a few years later, when Thebes revolted, Alexander (Mr. “Great”) razed the city to the ground. And it never ever recovered. No more Seven Gated Thebes for Creon to defend or the Epigoni to overcome. Now it’s just a sleepy little town. The largest remaining ruin is the Cadmeia of Thebes.
But Thebes does have a museum: The Archaeological Museum of Thebes. And the museum had some Sphinx, and a little bit of Oedipus. But there were no artifacts from the classical period and the hegemony, which is a damn shame.
Culinary Notes From All Over™ No. 5
Leaving the best for last was our late lunch at Ladokola. On the menu, besides the ouzo and retsina, was the tastiest grilled octopus I’ve ever eaten, and the presentation was wonderful too… This was followed by one of the house specialties, Lamb in Parchment Paper, which was exquisite.
By the time we got back, we had just enough time to get to see the National University of Athens. And it certainly is impressive.
And now we need to look at the public transportation in Athens. Line No. 1 (the Green Line) which was electrified in 1904, goes to Piraeus. Lines 2 and 3 (the Red and Blue Lines) go to the Acropolis and Airport, respectively. These were built in the 1990s for the 2004 Olympics. We’ve been building the 2nd Avenue Subway since I came to New York in 1976, and only a small portion is even done yet. New York needs to seriously rethink some things. And maybe get some advice from Athens.
And this is Piraeus. (The Metro Station on Odysseus Square.) Piraeus is where you go to take ferries destined for many Greek Islands, or if you’ve lost all common sense, you could sign up for a boat cruise. I came to Piraeus in 1991 and took a ferry to Aegina. Very nice and the nearest island to get to. But we’re not taking any ferries this time. You’ve seen one island, you’ve seen them all. And then there’s just being on the boat for longer than you’ll be on the island.
No. We’re in Piraeus because we want to see it through Ilya’s eyes. Ilya, played by Melina Mercouri, is the free-agent prostitute in “Never On Sunday.” Ilya is the happiest person in Greece. She helps out the working girls who are being exploited by Mr. Face, she loves Greek Tragedy but interprets it her own way and gets a happy ending every time, where everyone “goes to the seashore!” (παραλία.) She loves it when the fleet comes in! But even when they don’t, she still has a large devoted cadre of local friend followers. An American, Homer Thrace played by Jules Dassin (Melina’s husband and the film’s producer) has come to see what has happened to his beloved classical Greece. How was it corrupted by influences like Epicurus? He likes Aristotle. Ilya (and I) can’t stand Aristotle. Anyway, he tries to show Ilya the light, but in the end Ilya shows the light to Homer. Lovely film.
This is the limani (λιμάνι, the port.) In Ilya’s day, there would have been longshoremen (like Tony and The Captain) working on repairing and building boats. Progress is fine of course, but you do lose a lot.
In Ilya’s day, Piraeus didn’t need to advertise. Neither did Ilya.
This is and was probably the nearest seashore to Ilya’s apartment.
Nadine and I didn’t have any plans about where to eat in Piraeus. We figured we’d just stumble around until something looked good. We stumbled quite a ways. Up and down hills and back. But we were aiming for the Microlimani (the little port). And that’s how we found Bagg-Eir. It was not featured in any of our google searches. You had to be there. But what cinched the deal is they had grilled fish by the pound, and that included sole, which is a relative of turbot. Enough said. They also had fried mussels and the best bread we had in Greece.
When we returned to Athens we had enough time to visit the flea market at Monastiraki. It is less squalid than it used to be. On my first trip, I bought a small bouzouki (mandolin) from Vasilios Kevorkian, which I still can’t play with any alacrity. I was happy to see that there was still a shop selling them
Because it wasn’t the summer, we didn’t have a high hopes of actually seeing some Ancient Greek theater. But on our first day wandering around the Plaka, we came across a poster for “Medea & Other Friends I Made in Athens.” But google searches and google maps were not getting us a ticket office or performance venue, so we weren’t sure they were still around for their sixth season. But they were! And so off we go. The performance is on a rooftop, underlooking the Parthenon. As it turns out it was a very chilly night, but the staff distributed blankets and a nice glass of white wine before the performance. It was packed. The four actors perform (in English) five playlets inside a frame-tale play. They had Odysseus and the Cyclops, Medea, Prometheus Bound, Antigone, and two funny pieces from Aristophanes. It was wonderful. Cold. But wonderful.
On our last full day, I decided to take Nadine to Voulis Street. When I first visited Athens, Voulis was the street we needed to get to and from the Plaka. But these were the days before google maps. So I had a hell of time finding Voulis and then walking in the correct direction once I had.
Well, as it turns out, April 9th was a 24-hour strike day by the Transportation workers. We were warned of this by a sign in Piraeus. And lucky for us we didn’t need to go to Piraeus or Thebes or take a flight home, because none of that was happening today.
Voulis is not a transportation hub, but there sure were a lot of cops hanging around. It must have been because of the strike, but I never did find out why they were there in particular.
And this is the Plaka. Easy to get to with googleMaps Guy, “when” he’s working. The Plaka is the old city of modern Athens. Think of it as Greenwich Village. To the right is Philomousu Hererias Square (named for the Philharmonic Society) in 1826. On my first trip, we spent most nights there dining and drinking retsina. A lot of retsina. Patraiki™— in fact, still my favorite.
But our day had just begun and we needed to see the third hill, Pnyx, which looms large in ancient Athens history. There are actually three hills in the large park, the one of Muses, the one of Nymphs, and the Pnyx, itself. The Pnyx was where the ecclesia (assembly) of Athens met ten times a year to listen to orations by Themistocles or Pericles or Demosthene. Over the years, some 5 thousand to 13 thousand citizens would attend. “This is what democracy looks like!” 
Democracy can make mistakes. Take Socrates, for instance. Although a good case is made by I.F. Stone in “Trial of Socrates” as to how the wound was a self-inflicted by an old man who disliked democracy and the unpleasantness of old age. Here is “his” prison. Supposedly.
Onward to the Herakleidon Museum, where you can learn all about the technical cleverness of the ancient Greeks. Archimedes, Euclid, and Anaxagoras are just the beginning. They have exhibits that explain all the wonders of the real world. How levers moved those huge stones in Mycenae, how Lake Copais was drained. (Not entirely! There were still eels!) How Greek theatrical acoustics worked. And, my favorite, the Automate Therapaenis, the maidservant of Philo and Heron, an automation who knows exactly how to mix wine and water (the ancient Greeks always mixed, silly people). I’ll tell you this: If she ever learns how to mix gin and vermouth, I WANT ONE!!!
Man does not live by wine (or technology) alone. Man requires food. Good solid food. In soup form. So it’s off to the Varvakeios, the Central Municipal Market, “Athen’s stomach.” For lunch at Oinomagerio Epirus. Supposedly Anthony Bourdain once ate here, although he didn’t write or broadcast about it. But I can see why he would. Patsas! Who could resist? Epirus serves its tripe soup (pastas) two ways: tripe only OR tripe with calf leg mixed. So the only sensible thing to do is have one of each. Heaven. And the red peppers flakes were at hand at every table. (It’s Oinomagerio, which means wine and cuisine, so you order a retsina as well.)
Fortified, we can explore the Meat Market part of the Central Market.
“He don’ eat meat?? Waddaya mean he don’ eat meat?? It’s okay… I make lamb!” – Aunt Voula in My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
And then the Fish Part…
I couldn’t find turbot or eel, but I did find sole, octopus, and… mantis shrimp(!).
Hahahahahahahah! (In Greek: Χαχαχαχαχαχαχα!). PS €3/dozen of XL. (That’s $3.42 in Your Yankee Dollars.) Χαχαχαχαχαχαχα!
It being 5 o’clock somewhere, it was definitely time to visit Brettos—Athens’ oldest distillery. For a tasting!
Tastings, it turns out, are downstairs, but here I was upstairs. The very nice sommelier let me stay on the stool however and brought a five-flight of tsipouro and ouzo. And I found a favorite: Brettos Black. It’s a hundred proof. (I guess that figures. But it’s too good to flambé!) Need I say that Donald Trump is not approved of by sommeliers? Strongly.
About the only thing we haven’t done yet is see a Rebetiko performance. Rebetiko, kind of Greek blues, originated from the Anatolian Greek immigrants who were forced out at the end of the Greco-Turkish War in 1922 and the Treaty of Lausanne. Rebitiko to Greece is kind of like Fado to Portugal. But the rebetiko places don’t start until late, and when you’ve walked 8-12 miles and climbed 10-15 flights of stairs, Nadine needs to rest. Fortunately, Kapnikarea starts earlier.
The performers are not your typical coffee house American folksingers. These are professional musicians. They never take a break. At least not for two hours. They roll their own cigarettes. Perfectly. Including their reusable filter.
So anyway, I’m enjoying the performance and they start playing a song and, hey, I know that song… That’s Misirlou! The surf song. One of the first songs that all of us garage musicians had to learn in the early 60s. Because you could play the melody on one string! In fact, it was part of The Holy Trinity: Misirlou, Gloria, and Louie Louie. Later on, Quentin Tarentino used Misirlou for the opening credits’ soundtrack to Pulp Fiction.
I had no idea it was Greek. And I had no idea that it was rebetiko. But it is. The title means Egyptian girl in Turkish. It’s a love song, actually, of a Greek boy for a Muslim girl. How delightful.
And now we leave this land of enchantment, and the wonderful people with their strange yet interesting ways.
Αντίο Ελλάδα! Φιλιά και όνειρα γλυκά!
The stone also could have originally been a meteorite. AND… there are two fault lines right in the middle of Delphi, and from far below subterranean gases would waft up, while The Pythia, the female oracle person, would sit upon a tripod, which had additional holes to let the gases in. She would breathe in this shit and then start babbling things that the priests would interpret to the customer. And all this made for some really interesting historical and mythic predictions. Fun fact: some scientists in the late 1990s have suggested that the gases were ethylene, a stimulant that can produce euphoria. But then other scientists said bollocks to that, and proposed carbon dioxide and methane, which doesn’t sound pleasant at all. But those scientists then hedged and said that the sweet smells could have come from benzene fumes from local springs. Like myths, you pays your money and you takes your chances.
There is also the famous Bronze Charioteer, and here our Tour Guide explained the ancient lost wax method of bronze casting. That’s not the way I was taught and the way it’s taught today. But I think her method is much better. Live and learn.
And there’s a bust of Plutarch (local boy, from Chaeronea), who formed the basis for some of Shakespeare’s historical plays (Julius Caesar, Coriolanus). as well as being an indispensable part of any study of Ancient Greece or Rome. Fun stuff, really.
The Sphinx (meaning “throttler” according to Robert Graves) used to hang around Mount Phikion (somewhere) in Boeotia, and quizzed travelers with riddles, and devoured them when they answered incorrectly. As I mentioned before, many Greek myths have variations, and Robert Graves seeks the deeper meanings behind them for better understanding. So… I wrote a musical piece about Oedipus and his encounter with the Sphinx (“Your Money or Your Life”). I think I got it right. You can hear it here:
https://www.governmentinexile.net/bfks-oedipus-prologue
— στην πόλη Delphi, Greece.
Me and my gal. Sorry, Nadine.
(Actually, Nadine helped the Elizaveta, the tour guide, take the photo.)
It’s a big theatre. There are A LOT of steps to get to the top. (According to Nadine’s calculations about ten or eleven flights).
Thebes always picked the wrong side in a war: It sided with Persia against the Greeks, and with Sparta against Athens. Now this wasn’t because the Thebans were jerks, but their ruling class was. Oligarchs are useless as Bernie and AOC will tell you. It wasn’t until a revolution occurred that Thebes grew to real greatness and the hegemony of Greece after defeating the Spartans at Leuctra. But it didn’t last long, eventually Philip and the Macedonians defeated Thebes at Chaeronea, and a few years later, when Thebes revolted, Alexander (Mr. “Great”) razed the city to the ground. And it never ever recovered. No more Seven Gated Thebes for Creon to defend or the Epigoni to overcome. Now it’s just a sleepy little town. The largest remaining ruin is the Cadmeia of Thebes.
Leaving the best for last was our late lunch at Ladokola. On the menu, besides the ouzo and retsina, was the tastiest grilled octopus I’ve ever eaten, and the presentation was wonderful too… This was followed by one of the house specialties, Lamb in Parchment Paper, which was exquisite.
No. We’re in Piraeus because we want to see it through Ilya’s eyes. Ilya, played by Melina Mercouri, is the free-agent prostitute in “Never On Sunday.” Ilya is the happiest person in Greece. She helps out the working girls who are being exploited by Mr. Face, she loves Greek Tragedy but interprets it her own way and gets a happy ending every time, where everyone “goes to the seashore!” (παραλία.) She loves it when the fleet comes in! But even when they don’t, she still has a large devoted cadre of local friend followers. An American, Homer Thrace played by Jules Dassin (Melina’s husband and the film’s producer) has come to see what has happened to his beloved classical Greece. How was it corrupted by influences like Epicurus? He likes Aristotle. Ilya (and I) can’t stand Aristotle. Anyway, he tries to show Ilya the light, but in the end Ilya shows the light to Homer. Lovely film.
https://youtu.be/1qzJtiMI4pI?si=vEs76mgJKLaGcHyr
Well, as it turns out, April 9th was a 24-hour strike day by the Transportation workers. We were warned of this by a sign in Piraeus. And lucky for us we didn’t need to go to Piraeus or Thebes or take a flight home, because none of that was happening today.
Voulis is not a transportation hub, but there sure were a lot of cops hanging around. It must have been because of the strike, but I never did find out why they were there in particular.
I had no idea it was Greek. And I had no idea that it was rebetiko. But it is. The title means Egyptian girl in Turkish. It’s a love song, actually, of a Greek boy for a Muslim girl. How delightful.
https://youtu.be/LW6qGy3RtwY?si=Ox-uldP2Px_6fxHl
Αντίο Ελλάδα! Φιλιά και όνειρα γλυκά!
Bruce F. Krueger (Facebook)