I’m trying to think, don’t confuse me with facts: Plato
Random thoughts after three days in the birthplace of democracy and the city of sour fruit.
The bitter truth
The first thing you notice when arriving in Athens is that its streets are lined with trees bearing really impressive looking oranges. How cool is that?
Except that…well, Athens’ street oranges are so sour that trying to actually eat one of them is likely to make you throw up.
Now, as someone from, you know, Florida and stuff, lining your streets with inedible orange trees seeems…oh, I dunno…counterproductive.
I wanted to ask Plato about that, but he’s sort of dead. So I turned to the next best source, AI, to make sense of this city’s bitter fruit legacy.
It was quite enlightening.
“Because of their bitter taste, they have a long local history as ‘projectiles’ during political protests. City crews sometimes strip them from the trees in the centre during times of civil unrest to prevent their use against police.”
Which brings me to my next question: Why the hell aren’t we growing sour oranges on the streets of GNV?
You can’t go back again
One of the most treasured memories from my youth is that time my U.S. Navy destroyer came to Athens. I climbed the Parthenon in my dress blues and got my photo taken sitting on a Doric column section in front of the Parthenon.
So naturally I was quite excited to return to the Acropolis, nearly 60 years later, to, you know, relive those heady days of my long gone seafaring youth.
Sigh.
I know, you can’t go home again. But somehow, climbing the Parthenon with 3,000 of my closest friends kind of took the nostalgia out of the whole experience.
That and the fact that they’ve roped off all the columns and marble slabs that might make an appropriate setting for my long anticipated ”Ron before and after” photo.
I know, we’re living in a different world now. But it seems to me that assembly line tourism has pretty much bled the romance out of whole point of traveling to far away places with strange sounding names far away over the sea.
Still, in memory of Ron Cunningham’s original pilgrimage to Athens, I did drink ouzo. So there’s that.
Duck you sucker
Having walked around Athens for some hours I am prepared to draw conclusions.
There are European cities that have gone to great lengths to make life safer for pedestrians and cyclists.
Athens is not one of them.
From what I saw this city is geared toward moving cars and motorcyclists as quickly as possible. I found myself walking down streets where sidewalks narrowed to just a few inches in width and then abruptly stopped…in order to leave plenty of room for car parking and traffic flow.
This is surprising in a city that hosts millions of tourists a year. So once again – Plato still being annoyingly dead – I turned to AI for enlightenment.
“Athens is largely bike-ped unfriendly due to rapid, unregulated post-war development and an overwhelming car culture. With a density of over 800 vehicles per 1,000 residents, the city struggles with severe congestion. Consequently, historical street grids lack bike lanes, and existing sidewalks are frequently obstructed, narrow, or broken, forcing pedestrians and wheelchair users into dangerous, active traffic lanes.”
Plus, there’s this: “Drivers are notoriously unaccustomed to sharing the road with cyclists, and vulnerable two-wheeled commuters are often squeezed into bus lanes alongside aggressive taxi and bus drivers.”
Oh, well, as long as there’s an explanation, I’m good.
Not surprisingly I didn’t see a single bicycle the whole time I was there.
To recover from my Athens Car Culture Nightmare I proceeded to London, where I spent a glorious half day cycling to and fro with nary a thought for my safety.
Yeah, but it is art?
Being a Trained Observer Of The Human Condition, I have noticed over many years of globe trotting that European cities in general have something of a…um…graffiti problem.
That said, Athens may be in a graffitti class all its own. The stuff is everywhere.
I checked, and it turned out that Socrates is also long dead. So once again I had to travel to virtual Delphi and consult with our digital Oracle for explanation.
Quote the Oracle: “Athens has a staggering amount of graffiti due to a combination of deep-rooted political activism, the lingering impact of severe economic crises, and a highly active underground art scene. Stretched municipal resources and widespread youth unemployment create a perfect storm where public walls are treated as open canvases.”
Oracle added: “Following the financial crisis of 2009, youth unemployment and widespread anger at the system skyrocketed. Spray paint became a primary, accessible outlet for young Greeks to express despair, political outrage, and angst..”
This made me feel better about the whole graffiti epidemic.
Being a conspiracy theorist I naturally assumed it was all a result of paint companies hiring social media influencers paint the town in order to drum up business.
Or is it all just Greek to me?
Still, Athenians came by their paint spraying ways honestly. It’s literally their birthright.
After all, some 5,000 examples of ancient Greek graffiti have been uncovered by archeologists and Indiana Jones.
“The sheer number and variety of graffiti in ancient Greece is truly astounding,” reports greekreporter.com “Greetings, humorous messages and even obscenities are also very common among the findings that archaeologists have come across, as are quotes from famous literary works, showcasing the wit of graffiti writers in ancient Greece.”
Dude, when in Athens….grab a can of spray paint.
Or maybe it’s just me
Listen, if I sound a little down on Athens there may be a perfectly good explanation: Karma.
All I’m saying is it’s entirely possible that what I experienced on this Athens trip was just wrath of the Gods stuff.
Retribution for something I did the last time I was here.
I mean, you know what they say about drunken sailors on leave. Zeus only knows what I may have done way back when to anger the Gods.
So maybe a sacrifice was in order: My elderly head on a marble slab.
To which I can only offer one excuse: Ouzo.
Still, I do not like thee Athens. Maybe I’ll check back in another 60 years or so.
FreeGNV 