The gods and their paradise

by Scott Watson (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

I didn't expect to find Greece

I had just spent a week on a Greek island called Skyros. The promise had been made that it would be a tropical paradise, a refuge where I could recover from a crippling injury I had sustained to my back and hands. You see my girlfriend at the time was a stand up comedian and had taken a job teaching comedy at a hippy commune. The plan was to come out and visit her, while raising my spirits in the sun. And although the warm weather did do wonders to my broken body, the company had been less heartwarming. You see, we were pretty much on our last crumpling legs as a couple, destined to split apart like the sparks of a falling star. So when she wasn’t off entertaining the other guests we mostly argued. It was small things but we always managed to bring a climatic conflict into our conversations. This left me feeling mostly isolated and trapped. The other guests were far older than me and not my kind of people. But escape finally appeared on the horizon as the end of the week dawned. What’s more, I had plans to rejuvenate my stagnating spirits. Part of the journey to fly back home included a connecting flight through Athens. With this shinning opportunity handed to me on a platter I thought why not explore this mystical city? I decided to keep it cheap and couch surf for two days. I’d never done this before so it was an interesting experience. You feel thankful that these people have generously allowed you a place to lay your head. At the same time it’s pot luck with wether you’ll get on. However, I lucked out. I got to Athens on a Monday night at 7:30pm and, despite a financial crisis smothering the country in a cataclysmic debt, what did I see? Gangs of chilled faces stood on street corners, beers in hand like it was still the weekend, not a care in the world. As I walked past there was no great depression painting their faces a destitute colour; they just tilted their heads with a salutary nod. I then got to the guy’s house I was staying at. My expectation was a short introduction and him showing me my bed, before bidding me goodnight, because he’d probably have work early the next day. But to my surprise two other couch surfing girls were staying with him and they’d planned to go to a Greek political hip-hop rave. They asked if I wanted to come. I said most definitely yes! So we all high-tailed it to the venue’s university campus, just in time to see the headline act: Asian Dub Foundation, a band I had been longing to see. It was a rebellious riot of a gig, people lighting rainbow coloured flares and chanting screw-the-establishment lyrics. It was just exhilarating to see so many people moved into a protest like action. We walked back home at 4am with chocolate donut deserts, danced-out and contentment painting our purring faces. And that was my first night in Athens. The next day I explored the dichotomy between Athens’s ancient architecture and it’s new-wave graffiti lining each of its walls, relics to remind us of the cultural contrast that keeps Athens so interesting. Then in the evening, my host drove me on the back of his scooter around the whole of Athens, no helmet included, showing me its more traditional sights and sounds. We also trekked up to the towering ruins of the Acropolis. As the sky’s obsidian darkness cast it’s shadow over the city we stood surveying the twinkling lights like omnipotent gods, elevated to the rarified atmosphere above. This was my last night sadly, but all those memories didn't fade. I got to carry them home like luggage, remembering them locked up tight in the halls of my head. I had found an ancient paradise, preserved by the Gods for us mere morals to indulge in...