Greece is Banging. Pericles the fish and the Best man in Athens.

The Greeks have the most sex in the world. As ever I wouldnt know. But, Athens is Banging, in every sensce of the word. Id taken the train from Patras a port city on the ithmaus of Corinth and then on a thin gague railway, ripping up tp to Attica leaving behind the moutains of the Pelopenese.

Lemon trees, and mountains was all I could see. Sun drenched lemon trees, green leaved garden of eden trees, they became Olive trees and then into Orange trees. The train accelerates transformation; the moutains persisted. On the left was the Azure Blue of the Adriatic, and on the right Bryon's moutains. In Greece, the Moutains look down on everything and everying looks down on the Sea.

I had taken the boat from Bari just underneath Brundisici with a brace of Americans. They had, had a horrendous trip through Italy with land slides and strikes chewing up their plans. It had culminated on a night outside, sleeping on the docks. Mine hadnt been much better, with missed connections and cities missed, a night train, I was depressed.

But I was estatic now and so were they; misery loves company and when we all met, unlike Atlas, the burden was lifted . I loved being on the Boat. I was back with my lonely sea and sky. Salt water gets under you, into your skin, if you live by it, sail on it you love it. Like being cut from the main, I feel lost without it. Thalassa! Thalassa! It felt like home.

We brought a gallon of wine for a eleven eurpoes, and a some bread for two. Set for the boat, we spent the night boozing. I met an Australian Greek whos parents had given him a name which seemed to me, to be a patiche of both coutries: Hercules. Superb. He was a master painter relocating his family to his second marriage in Athens. He seemed ecstatic, but his family didnt. You meet them on travels, those people who are running not travelling. Having failed in one country oppressing another. I hope it works out for him.

In athens I arrived late, and stayed up later. I was couch surfing again and lady luck had landed me with a Greek who loved to party. We headed down to a beach just outside Marathon and I thought I could still smell the Victory of 490 BC. It was all europop of course and some awful greek techno, but I found a bottle of gordons and got stuck in. We ripped up the floor boards of an abandoned house to get a fire going. If it sounds grimey, it was. There was another couch surfer staying with my Greek, who like the Chicagoan was buying a bike. I had had this converation before.

But in contrast to the American I had met in Paris who had been succesful only in failure, this Parisian had ordered negoaited and was leaving for Bulgaria on Monday. I went to bed late and got up early. The night before I had been at like the God Bachus, but in the morning the Gordans had turned sour on me and I knew I was mortal.

I headed down to the Acropolis, perched on the top of the table top mountain of greece, this is where it all began. I love Pericles. At home, I named a gold fish who is actually black Pericles. He is not really my fish but he shares the same indisiputable spirit of that Great Athenian and Great man.  Pericles the fish and the man are both good chaps. If you love demorcary you must love Athens. I saw the streets he walked in and the theartes he sat in. The first man of Athens was my man of Athens. It all began here, even if the history we write is more glorious then the history that happened. Whats truer than truth? The Story.

I brought tickets to the thearte but I was 2200 years lates for the show. I knew my Oeidipus Rex, the best things die hard, Aeschylus was with me. To have seen it live in Athens, would be a worthy task of any mans time machine. It gave me goose bumps thinking about it. What an absolute Tragedy.

I lied and brought a student ticket to the acropolis museam, its superb. The lie and the Museam. I highly recommend it. The Marbles, the ones which aren't  Elgins, are displayed in the white light of Greece in the positions in which they would have been seen. The plaster casts of the ones we stashed in the British museam are glaringly obvious. Of course we should give them back; we never will though. Some things are too good to share and like every country in the world we all want a bit of Greece.

Tommorow I roll out to Istanbul, to go see the Turks, those great rival of Greeks, across to that city on the Bospherous. Founded by Constantine, one of our Boys from York. I'll miss Athens. The marbles, the greeks, the Gyros, the oranges, the lemons the olives, the mountains. But Ill miss that light, that white, white, light of Greece.