Moving on …,

Tweet

In the morning we leave Aegina for Piraeus. It’s been a good 10 days: I got to feed millions of mosquitoes on my blood and my wife got to give names to a considerable number of stray cats so it was quite a productive 10 days. We got to sail over to Agistri island and Moni island and took the bus to the villages of Perdika and Agia Marina. I enjoyed good meals on three occasions and the rest were truly vomit-worthy. How do you tell chef that his food makes you want to puke without causing offence? So tomorrow it’s back to Piraeus, scene of many happy memories but also of a few moments of discomfiture due to impecunity, storms in the Aegean and teenage impetuosity. My current impetuosity is that of an aging gentleman. But Piraeus isn’t what it used to be - is anything? Alas no. Nor am I. The system of ferries focused on the great port is now sleek, modern and well-oiled and there is a dearth of characterful old sea dogs inhabiting the cafes and bars and seedy hotels waiting for storms to abate. In fact I wonder why people bother at all. Travel just isn’t fun any more. It’s all accomplished on cell phones. All so antiseptic and curated by travel writers telling one what to look at and where to eat. We’ll tarry a while in Piraeus, sit among the nouveau riches in a rooftop cocktail bar and look wistfully over the sea and imagine ourselves sailing past Kythira at sunset in winter, headed for Libya. And then to Athens, the seat of my personal court in the late 1970s and witness to my many triumphs and defeats. This was prior to moving my capital to Paris in 1984, and I’m pleased to have moved it south again. We’ll chat a while with the ancient, dusty looking tortoises who amble lugubriously in the national gardens. It’s amazing that they haven’t all ended up in cooking pots. Maybe some of them have. Coffee in L’Arrêt du Temps, lunch in Urusum. Sadly there’ll be no cocktails in an Embassy party because those parties are so hard to crash now and I’m no longer as exotic as I used to be. I’ll be sad to leave Athens, but the prospect of arriving in northern France with its harbours and arbours fills me with delight. So does eating proper food.