Sunday, 17th August, 2025
A gorgeously warm and sunny morning. Woke up thinking about Solomon Street (If you read yesterday’s Blog post) and about History. Yesterday, I managed to get the Founder of and Lecturer at the Oldham Local History Centre and an old friend on the case. He was in France when I contacted him but has promised to provide the answer with evidence when he gets back. Actually, I’ve invited him to deliver it to our Hotel suite in Athens if he can make it. He might be 84 but he is in love again. His wife died a couple of years ago and he has reunited with an old girlfriend from pre-marriage days. They are deleriously happy and making the most of their final years.
History makes me happy. I think it always has. I woke this morning to a program about …. ossier harvesting and basket weaving. Yes, I know, you wish you’d been with me, Dear Reader, but you can’t have everything all at once. It took me back to my childhood in the village of Repton – in the High Street which was well known years before me as a place for the cottage industry of ossier harvesting and basket weaving. The brook running at the bottom of our garden and down to Main Street was the source of the willows that were the material harvested and dried for weaving those gorgeous baskets.
The man above is Seth Pearson. He and his wife lived in the cottage where the dark car is now parked on the upper right. This photograph was taken just before WW2 and probably marked the end stages of the industry.
His wife, Edith, ran a rubbish, grubby little shop selling chewing gum, sweets and tobacco right up to the late 1960s where she was virtually blind and the oldest person I ever met at the age of 107. They had a son, Thomas Seth Pearson, who in turn had a son Laurence Seth Pearson who only died just over 20 years ago and is buried in the local, Repton church yard. Neither followed in the trade of which there is no sign now.
Nothing remains the same. The tradition that I found evidence of going back over 250 years has gone completely in Repton but is being revived elsewhere because there is always nostalgia for the under-industrialised, pre-computerised past.
Well, today has been a lovely re-acclimatisation treat for Athens tomorrow. A hot and sunny 25C/77F will make Athenian 36C/97F seem a bit excessive.
Monday, 18th August, 2025
Quite a grey morning. We leave for Gatwick and Athens later but first, the Fainter is going back to the scene of her faint – the Dentist. She is now fully recovered so I expect things to go well. The bags are packed – just 4 carry-on bags, 2 large and 2 small, are packed. The house is set up but the car is filthy. We’ve had a dump of Saharan Dust over the past few days and black cars look terrible covered in that. I am desperate to clean it but just to stand in Gatwick Long Stay Carpark seems a bit of a waste. I’m certainly not going to spend £25.00 on it but I’m going to do it myself.
I was born and brought up in a small and fairly insular East Midlands village where quite conservative activities, emblematic of earlier times were pursued. The football team, Repton Casuals played on the Cow Pastures pitch. You can’t get much more pre-World War than that. Of course, the public school was significant in influencing that milieu but so was the burgeoning middle class of land and business owners, the retrospective influence of the Methodist church and the ancient influence of the CofE St Wystans church integrated with the school.
Things like the Scout Movement were integral to the post-war conservatism that I was born into. Of course, I was a cub and scout. My Mum was on the committee. I quite enjoyed the pre-pubescent camaraderie of it. I was an aggressive winner. I enjoyed the cut and thrust of scouting competitions.
While I was researching the basket weaving industry history of Repton, I came across this page about Boy Scouting in Repton. The photos take me back to the early 1960s. The workmen’s huts at the top were cast-offs from the building of Willington Power Station. The cooling towers could be seen from miles around across the countryside.
Finished in 1959, the huts were donated in 1963 with a plea from my long time friend, Dave Beasley who was scout leader. My friend, Jonathan and I were there when the panels were delivered on the backs of lorries to a field donated to the scouts by the Parish Council. We gave up hours of our time in their reconstruction and even more hours spray painting the walls inside. I spent hours of my early teenage years in those huts competing to be top dog. I am there in those black & white photos pulling the Trek Cart and sleeping in those awful 1950s tents. Happy, innocent days!
Little did I imagine that I would leave that village let alone live in Yorkshire or build a house in Greece. The boundaries of those hazy, innocent days were so narrow and soon began to feel like prison walls. Songs of Innocence & Experience. Experience brings joys and so much pain that I sometimes wonder what is best. See you in Athens, Dear Reader.
Tuesday, 19th August, 2025
Lovely process yesterday. Great drive to Gatwick – just 50mins. Perfect parking spot in the long stay car park. Airport Shuttle Bus arrived immediately and we were in the Security Clearance area in minutes. It was deserted. The staff were cheery and helpful. It went like a dream. Off to No 1 Gatwick North Executive Lounge for a bite to eat and then down to Gate. Speedy Boarding were boarded … speedily. Just 3 hrs 15 mins later we were in Athens Airport. It is a lovely place to be.
Our taxi driver, Giannis, had lived in England and spoke good if limited English. He knew immediately we spoke that I had Greek experience from the way I gave him the hotel’s address. The hotel is on Nikodimou Street. A taxi driver can tell instantly. If you say Ni ko di mo Street, you are tourist. If you say Nikod i mou and forget the street, you are Greek. He thought we were Greek. We had 40 mins where he practised his English on us and we practiced our Greek on him. The charge was the standard €45.00 but we gave him €60.00 for his interest.
At the hotel, we were a little early for our Suite to be ready. We were given free drinks vouchers for the rooftop bar and went up there to wait for the cleaners to prepare everything. As we sat there, the heavens opened and torrential rain fell on the capital.
Of course, at this time of year, nothing lasts long. The rain stopped. The sun came out. The sauna continued. We went out to shop for wine and nuts for a snack. I met a lovely man, Ναθαναήλ or Nathan who had worked in Birmingham in the past. He obviously wanted to practise his English on us and couldn’t stop talking. When we got back to our Suite, we found cake and an expensive bottle of Tsipouro as a gift on the table. Unfortunately, it does nothing for us but they believe that they are marking our long served loyalty.
You will know, Dear Reader, that Tsipouro is a traditional Greek distilled spirit drink. It’s a strong, clear spirit made from grape pomace. It is incredibly strong but is popular in Greece. I won’t be drinking (much of) it. We have found an interesting, new taverna called Symposio which serves modern, Greek cuisine. This evening, we have Dined out on a fruit flavoured, Green Leaf Salad with Pistachio crusted Pork Spare Ribs. Absolutely lovely.
Still very warm but it has been a long day and these old people need some sleep. Well one of us does. I have some reading and writing to do first but it is an effort.
Wednesday, 20th August, 2025
It’s 2.00 pm (GT) / 12.00 pm (UKT) and we’ve had Breakfast, done an 8 mile walk in a gentle 30C/86F of sunshine. Of course, I had my Failsworth Cap on but the whole thing was lovely. Whenever I return to Athens and even though I have stayed here 79 times before, I always find something new. Sometimes it is genuinely new and sometimes I have just missed it in the past.
Today, I stumbled upon the European Distribution Centre for DHL parcels. Doesn’t look dynamic, does it, Dear Reader.
My friend, Kevin, thinks he is a Greek god. He is very old and wants to be eternal. He has had a statue of himself commissioned to be erected in his North Yorkshire village and he is crowd funding its construction. This is how he sees himself. It is apposite because I am staying in the Electra Palace Hotel. Electra in Greek means amber brightness, or shining. It is the root of our electricity which was first used to light our homes. I suspect Kevin has an inflated view of himself and his chances of being venerated.
My travelling companion has relapsed a bit with an upset stomach. She is rapidly losing weight. We have spent the morning discussing whether to return home immediately or wait until we get there to follow this up. We have decided to give it 24hrs and then make a decision.
For now, I am going out to do another walk as the temperature rises to 32C/91F. Before that, I have the standard problem to sort out. I use BT Email service which is very sensitive to compromise. At the first sign of stress, it is shut down. Here it happens because I am in a foreign country with an unprotected wifi.
I am grateful that they are so careful although it is annoying that I have to reset everything across three platforms each time. At least I’ve got used to it and managed to update password access across smartphone, iPad and Laptop fairly quickly.
I have no interest in religious symbols but the Greeks do and my old friend, the Greek God does – sad, old man. This is the Athens Cathedral – Mitropolous – in yesterday’s sunshine lighting up the marble paving.
A friend came to call at lunchtime. I suspect she wanted my oregano-flavoured peanuts. I told her she was sexy but the wrong friend. She seemed indifferent to the news and just ate the nuts.
Tonight we have eaten in the scruffiest, scariest streetside Taverna you can imagine. We are staying in a top Suite in a 5* Hotel and this taverna looks lucky to get 1* as it sits on the pavements between two bombed out parking lots as cars rush past through the narrow road at the side. Of course, appearances can be deceptive. The 5* Hotel is great but the 1* taverna just round the corner is wonderful. In fact it’s called Paradosiako Evgenia because it was started by Evgenia and her husband almost 40 years ago.
We have been eating there since it opened and the food is typically Greek island style. The prices are too. Tonight, we had Greek Salad, grilled Sea Bass and oven roast potatoes in olive oil and lemon sauce. You should have been here, Dear Reader. With a litre of white wine from the barrel and a plate of green grapes to finish, the whole bill came to just €60.00 / £52.00. Wonderful value.
A fascinating and typically Greek thing happened while we ate. A couple sitting near by went out of their way to attract our attention and engage us in conversation. They were Athenians and middle class professionals. She was a Lecturer in Economics from the local University and he was a Stockbroker on the Athens Stock Market – Χρηματιστήριο Αθηνών (A.S.E.). They spoke quite good English and clearly wanted to practise it. Nowhere else have I found people so willing to seek out and engage total strangers as the Greeks do. It made the meal even more enjoyable.
Thursday, 21st August, 2025
Gorgeous morning which started at 6.15 am (GT) / 4.15 am (UKT) with a political podcast followed by a lecture on Einstein’s concept of time-space relativity. By the time I got up, my head was exploding.
Outside on the terrace, even in the centre of this never-sleep city, little was stirring. It always shocks me that we walk through the grandeur of the hotel’s Lobby into a beautifully appointed Suite and then outside on to its terrace …
…. only to look over the chaos that is an ancient city in constant reconstruction. Everywhere, one sees the otherwise hidden bits that people down on the street never see, bits of buildings built at different points over the last few centuries, things planned in different times and things built under the radar of the Planners so as to avoid inspection and taxation.
For a posh hotel trying to control the environment for its guests who are paying a lot of money for luxury, it is difficult. The rooftop pool is one way to do it. An oasis of calm and enjoyment distracts from what’s below. Drinks are served by attentive staff, towels brought, even food on trays – anything to draw the eyes away from scaffolding cladding surrounding decay.
Going out to walk round the base of the Acropolis again this morning. The walk takes about 90 mins and is best done before we hit today’s predicted temperature of 34C/93F. Over night we didn’t fall below 24C/75F which is pleasant. Mid day is a time for air-conditioning and resting. Along the route, Greeks try to relieve tourists of their Euros. Music players with collection plates, cheap jewellery sellers, fake antiquities for sale and photographs with ancient Greek Soldiers.
Normally, it is the Americans who cough up willingly but there are a lot less around this year. Our hotel is usually a hotbed of Americans who can afford the inflated prices but the dollar is weak this year as Trumps tariff policy perversely hits his own people and they are not coming to Europe. Lots of Italian and a few English voices but the hotel is full of rich Greeks this year.
Supper tonight will be at an old favourite we used to frequent with Greek friends from Sifnos Ella on Mitropoleos Street. They even serve Sifnos Chickpea Soup (Σούπα Ρεβίθια Σίφνου) and my favourite Courgette Fritters (Κολοκυθοκεφτέδες). I dare you to ask for that in Greek after a glass of wine. After me, Dear Reader: Kollo Kithia Keftedes. You see it’s easy.
Friday, 22nd August, 2025
A hot night here. While the North of England fell to an Autumnal 10C/50F and Surrey to an amazing 6C/43F, we never dipped below 28C/83F and we are forecast for an extra hot 36C/97F today.
Walking will be a little more taxing in that heat. My Failsworth Cap will be working hard. My Mother never visited Failsworth. She moved from London to the Midlands and stopped.
A day after the world’s oldest person became a British woman aged 116, my Mum would be 102 today. Once again, as every year for the past 45 years, I am in Greece and not there to wish her Happy Birthday in person. We have to live our own lives, don’t we, Dear Reader, just as she did.
This will seem a strange topic for the Blog …. or maybe not if you’re a regular reader. It may just drop in alongside all the other strange topics. Today, I am discussing Personal Hygiene and changing the bed sheets.
I have to say at the outset that I am not the cleanest person you will meet. I am not averse to wearing the same T-shirt & shorts three days running. I am not big on hygiene products and have to be pinned down to stay fresh. You’ve probably already run a mile, Dear Reader but I am not as bad as it sounds.
Of course, I shower every day sometimes two or three times a day. I dress neatly and cleanly when the occasion demands and I am house trained. It just seems there are far more important things in life to worry about. But where this is leading is the important topic of …. (drum roll) …. bed linen. How often do you change it?
I once lived in a disgustingly scruffy flat as a student, which I shared with three others. I remember hitting a terrible low when I just couldn’t be bothered going to the laundrette with the bed linen so I slept on the bed in a sleeping bag for a week. I stress, that was a low point – a very low point for all sorts of reasons. At home, my Mother’s cleaner washed the linen every week – occasionally turfing me out of bed to strip it. I wasn’t trained in Laundry.
My wife has never failed to do the same throughout our married life. In fact, I am charged with stripping it and bringing the sheets down to the Utility Room every Wednesday. Do you know how I remember it’s Wednesday? She records it on the online calendar which Alexa reads out to me every Wednesday morning: John, it’s sheets day! it announces.
Here, in this 5* hotel, the bed is very comfortable and the Egyptian Cotton bed linen inspires confidence. Far from changing the bed once a week. Here it is changed every day. I suppose at £550.00 per day, one can expect that but it really isn’t necessary.
We have things like this placed on the pillows and even though we have tried to say it is not necessary, still they are changed every day. Guests are supposed to put the Feeling Green notice on the bed to keep the sheets on.
Saturday, 23rd August, 2025
Very hot night which didn’t dip below 29C/84F and an even hotter day is in prospect. We ate out a Mezze Restaurant last night and had a wonderful meal of different fishes – Octopus, Langoustine and Sea Bass.
I’ve been there many times before but I would never be able to find it again without my trusty Sherpa who has a photographic memory.
I’ve written about it before but it is worth repeating. I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag. Satellite Navigation was specifically designed for me. I even struggle in a large hotel like this with numbered floors, lifts to each floor, numbered Suites and I still can’t find my way back from Breakfast. As we leave our Suite for the lift, invariably, I turn right into the Linen Cupboard as my Sherpa turns left and calls the lift. I am being taught to memorise the furniture outside the lift so I know where I am.
I rarely dream or remember them but I did last night. I was in the centre of an unknown city. I came upon my car in an open garage. I didn’t know how it got there or where it actually was. I didn’t have my key or my phone and couldn’t remember where my hotel was or even what it was called. The total lack of control and understanding virtually sums up my everyday state as I move around the world.
I have often thought about it because it has been a feature of my whole life. When I took my future wife home to meet my Mother, she had to take control of navigation because I got lost. It is embarrassing but I’ve grown to accept it. I have a good memory for facts, figures, faces, ideas but I cannot do directions. I can see the starting point in my mind’s eye and I can clearly see the destination BUT I cannot see the link between the two. Try as I might I even struggle with places I visit every week at home. Without a guide, I would definitely need the hop-on-hop-off sightseeing bus in Athens.
Venturing down to Piraeus today so I am going to need an extra long ball of string to find my way back. Actually, that’s old technology now. I’m going to use the sat nav on my phone to guide me. I’ll let you know how I get on …. if I get back.
…… Well, I didn’t get lost because I didn’t get to Piraeus at all. I did my 8 mile walk but the temperature really rose quickly. By the time I got back to my hotel, the temperature had reached an uncomfortable 35C/95F. It is not really the way to travel on a crowded Metro and to walk across the Port so I decided to stay and watch Man. City in the hotel while travelling in my mind instead. It’s amazing how you don’t need sat. nav. to travel in your mind. You can find yourself in some lovely places without need of a map.