Greek Ruins
ON BOARD S/Y BUSHIDO--Sailing into Athens, renamed “cemento-polis” by green-loving Athenians, can be a traumatic experience, for one’s crew, that is. Coming in from the west, crossing Pireaus, my German cook Daniel could not believe his eyes. ”Was ist das? Das ist furchtbar, abscheulich!” Daniel is young, a very good cook and as good a pick-up artist as I have come across in my travels. His specialities are English and Dutch girls. “I know you will not like me because I’m German, but you will come on board for a drink...ja?” Piraeus now looks like the Albanian coast, without a single tree or bush to relieve the eye from the utter ugliness of a city built by the short-sighted for short-term profit. I was actually embarrassed in front of my crew — New Zealanders and Australians who have travelled the globe and know ugly when they see it. We dropped anchor, the mother of my children flew off to Switzerland and I headed for Athens, a city always present in the heart and mind of anyone who has ever aspired to greatness.
Mind you, the Athens I knew as a child can no longer be glimpsed. A few smells, the narrow streets of Plaka at dawn, the tightly closed shutters of a Kolonaki apartment building are reminders of the once most romantic small capital of Europe. The men who used to sit around the Kolonaki square sipping endless cups of coffee and eyeing the women, dandies, flâneurs, Lotharios are mostly gone, replaced by entrepreneurs talking shop. The old bunch cultivated a certain melancholy, self-pity of sorts, sentimental and nostalgic. They dressed impeccably, and those who couldn’t afford it nevertheless wrapped a silk handkerchief around their necks and played it like Bohemians. It was mostly an act, and a beautiful one. It has been replaced by a harshness which suits cheap Italians but not the Greeks, once upon a time a polite and courteous people. Most of the beautiful 19th-century private houses have been torn down and replaced by commercial centres, although a few wonderful public buildings such as the original University, the Academy and the Public Library remain.
The myth of Athenian perfection, of course, is what attracts one to the city. Was Athens ever perfect? That I do not know for sure, but I like to think that it was. Orators said that it was, so visitors have to put up with the myth versus reality. All I have are my memories of beautiful, cool interiors of grand apartment houses lining the avenues across the royal gardens. Small underground tavernas staying open during the occupation and the Germans turning a blind eye. Beautiful, sexy women walking daily by my house most likely going for an assignation, smiling at me at times but mostly ignoring me. Ah, I wonder now if they were as beautiful as they seemed to me then, in 1945, but I will never know.
Let’s face it, Athens had its day long ago and cannot be expected to rise to such heights again. Had Ancient Athens been a bit less arrogant, she might have survived for longer, but it was 1453 and all that which sealed our fate for ever. Athens was already a nonentity by the time Constantinople fell to the Turks. We were once the beacon of civilization, now we copy the worst of the modernist plague and manage to transform it to an even uglier plane. I am, of course, talking about the cities, Athens, Salonika, Patras and so on. The young leave beautiful islands and villages to go and live among the ugliness of the cities. They call it progress and consider themselves more sophisticated for doing so. Which brings me to a horrible incident which took place last week in the modern Sodom and Gomorrah, the wind-swept island of Mykonos, known as a gay haven full of drugs, sex, and disgusting locals drunk on profits.
I have not visited the place in years beause of the rude locals, the outrageous antics of the gays, and because of the overcrowding. There is no decent anchorage because of local resistance. (They use their own caiques to transport tourists to and fro, and anchorages tend to draw private boats.) The wind blows non-stop, the once beautiful island is now dirty, lined with cheap bars and cheaper boutiques, and the nightclubs resemble those of Beirut during the civil war. Last week four so-called bouncers beat a young Australian to death with an iron bar outside the club Tropicana, and, after an investigation, three of the Greeks walked out on bail, while the main culprit was charged with manslaughter.
The father of the victim, who flew over from Australia, thanked the Greek people for their kindness, donated his son’s organs — and four transplants went ahead successfully, thanks to his donation — and then burst into tears. Killing a defenceless 20-year-old by bashing him over the head with an iron bar, four against one who was not resisting, takes a sub-human kind of perversity, one easily found among the local scum of Mykonian nightclub entrepreneurs. The local scum not only serves drinks fortified with industrial-grade alcohol, they also control the police who turn a blind eye to their excesses. The place is dreadful beyond belief, yet I have friends who own large houses there and love the place as if it were Capri c.1920. The authorities should shut the Tropicana down, throw the book at the four thugs — who are already trying to blacken the victim’s name—and enforce the law by replacing the crooked cops. But it’s the Mykonians themselves who have become the worst people of Greece, managing to replace those from Spetsai, but that’s another story altogether.
Comments
Satan was the city planner for Athens (A Greek word meaning anus). It is a sinkhole of cement and a congealed community of pickpockets and lowlifes.
The only things worth seeing, the ruins, can be seen in one short day and you better do it quickly because the govt is destroying them every single time they try and repair them.
Athens in an anus run by morons.
On Mykonos, Ano Mera is a town worth seeing. It has a handsome Cathedral, a good bakery and the kindest people on the planet.
Outside of Ano Mera,, as we were driving around the countryside, we passed by a lovely looking, tree-lined drive and, fortunately, decided to turn around and investigate.
It turned out to be the entrance into a beautiful, serene, and lovely, yes lovely, Orthodox cemetery. It was a delight to walk around this holy ground and look at the graves which, to us at least, were objects of wonder and beauty.
The graves are dug into the stony earth and lined with thin concrete tiles and capped with raised white marble monuments, nearly all of which featured, at the head of the grave, glass and marble mini-vaults filled with photos and a few favorite items of the deceased loved one. Most of the graves also had an Icon, statue, or photo of the individual’s Patron Saint.
One monument featured both an actual photo of a motorcycle and a model motorcycle which was the love of a young man whose life was ended in a road-side accident a few miles from the cemetery. It was The Bride who spotted the death site as we were driving back towards Ano Mera and the family had erected a mini-shrine at the death site. What an amazing love his parents had for him. Here was a machine that was a contributing cause (young man + motorcycle + beer + speed = death) to his all too sudden ending of life and yet, because he obviously loved his motorcycle, his parents had honored his memory by including it in the monument to his life and their love.
It will forever make my heart ache for them.
On the pathways between the graves, the Orthodox had cemented-in the stones so that no dust would be stirred up by any visitors. The graves were richly and lavishly decorated with fresh and vividly-colored flowers. Above the grave of the young man a fat cat was napping on the limb of a beautiful wind-sculpted evergreen.
In the cemetery, that place of death, the Orthodox had created a place of serene beauty one was loathe to quit. On the way out we happened to run into a young woman and child – obviously there to visit the grave of a loved one – and she smiled as she spoke about what a place of calm and beauty that local cemetery was.
How could anyone not love The Orthodox of the Greek islands?
Santorini is not to be missed. Me and The Bride walked the caldera from Fira to Oia. Most folks describe their hike as having taken place on the Caldera, the stark hard edge of the volcano. While I also thought of it that way, I more often thought of it, and will think of it in the future, as traversing a Divinely-designed Rosary chain upon which the clever and inventive Greeks have constructed innumerable beads of beauty.
I think of each major town as existing on the rosary as being like the beautiful silver globes The Bride used in making my silver and black Rosary. I think of Fira as being the silver Crucifix I hold as I begin the Rosary by praying the Creed; I think of Fierostefani as the First Glorious Mystery; I think of Imerovigli as the Second Glorious Mystery; and I think of Oia as the Third Glorious Mystery.
To walk the Caldera from Fira to Oia is to traverse a Rosary of Trinitarian beauty upon God’s volcanic rock, which, through his disciples, he hath breathed life into the very stones, which, by the artifices of The Greeks, have sprung into life in an abundance of beautiful forms; Chapels, Shrines, Cathedrals; Churches, Hotels, Taverns, Restaurants, and Houses.
Athens is a sick sadistic sad city and once the morons have ruined the ruins no one will ever have occasion to visit it.
Stick with the islands and enjoy the wines of Santorini produced from vines curled into “crows” which helps the vines maintain a low profile out of the winds.
Santorini is a place I’d happily return to
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Dear Taki
What you say about Athens is partly true. But why you didn’t stay or at least try to organise things to help all the young hopeful Athenians help rebuilt our city. By helping in Art, Martial Arts, Science, your great style you could motivate a lot of people changing lifes and helping improve our city. At least that’s what i am trying to do.
In my opinion if all the rich families who are your personal friends (as i have read through you stories in “Status” and your books) gave the financial support for such “educational” centres (as i mentioned above) many things would be different....
I don’t mean to judge anyone just to say that things could be a lot different.
p.s Since the age of 15 now 26, you and Porfirio are my icons.
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Dear Taki
What a tragedy the innocent killing on Mykonos was. The basic facts were extensively reported int Australian media. It is very interesting to learn of the sinister underbelly underlying it.
The main culprit’s charge has been upgraded to murder. Here’s hoping that justice is delivered.
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Dear taki:
I believe that the realisation of your birthood civilization’s death may somehow near (and only near, of course)the sorrow for a beloved one’s death.
Anyway, things may still be fixed. It will be a hard task, but perhaps we can build, once and for all, a golden age for all mankind, where justice, beauty and dignity will prevail.
At least I like to believe so.
(excuse me for my poor english)
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I was pondering Archimedes of Syracuse, one of the great minds in all of history. He died when a Roman soldier decided he wasn’t respecting his authority, he had the sword after all, and killed him. The guys with the swords always seem to kill those who love life.
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As a tribute to Daniel the German cook and pick-up artist (his instincts are mine, let
the yacht to the talking - vomen wuv money more than they have been brainwashed to
dislike Germans - biology made us more the hunters and she more the gatherer, it’s her
inevitable nesting instinct developed over millions of years, which 100 years of news
propaganda can’t compete with) and in keeping with green-loving Athenians: “Grey are all
the theories, but green is the tree of life.” -Goethe ... I have no pride remaining I
suppose; I wouldn’t mind dishwashing on the yacht. Or does anyone need scuba diving
lessons? I kid.
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As a tribute to Daniel the German cook and pick-up artist (his instincts are mine, let
the yacht do the talking - vomen wuv money more than they have been brainwashed to
dislike Germans - biology made us more the hunters and she more the gatherer, it’s her
inevitable nesting instinct developed over millions of years, which 100 years of news
propaganda can’t compete with) and in keeping with green-loving Athenians: “Grey are all
the theories, but green is the tree of life.” -Goethe ... I have no pride remaining I
suppose; I wouldn’t mind dishwashing on the yacht. Or does anyone need scuba diving
lessons? I kid.
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Taki thanks for the above piece. Really it’s got such beauty and rhythm I can only read
a few paragraphs of it at a time. Let me respond to this quote of the above: “The myth
of Athenian perfection, of course, is what attracts one to the city. Was Athens ever perfect? That I do not know for sure, but I like to think that it was. Orators said that it was, so visitors have to
put up with the myth versus reality.” (end quote) I myself feel I KNOW it was perfect,
since perfection in the imperfect world only can occur within a given context. About the
whole, imperfect world or totality, we can say ‘imperfect’s perfect’ but then
discernible perfection within the particular like a city well that CAN be perfect. I’d
say it was. To give a prosaic example of perfection within context, it’s like a spelling
contest, if you spelled all the words correctly and outlasted everyone else in the
contest then you were ‘perfect.’ Of course in a much more exciting way within such a
context so was Athens. ... Were the Athenian women who walked by you back then as a youth
as beautiful as you thought so at the time-?- (I can’t take it - I’ll have to deal with
that one later.) I can only do a few paragraphs at a time. (Hint - I ‘suspect’ so.) Or as
you suggest, it’s perhaps better if we never know?
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Ok, I’ve read farther about how it’s all gone downhill and to pot like so much of the
West today. Sad. I’ll be honest I do suspect it is because the culture took a wrong
turn (perhaps) and forgot perfection is contextual in the imperfect world; and reversed
it into believing since the world is imperfect, perfection must be an absolute or as it
were ‘for its own sake’? That’s an impossible ideal, and as a matter of fact that itself
when confused ‘as if’ that’s perfection, is the worst sort of imperfection. Then people
get discouraged spinning their wheels and not being able to implement such a myth, really
then such an evil myth. Soon they start filling in the illusionary ‘absolute’ with all
kinds of other distractions to ease their pain (but perhaps making it worse in the long
run) such as drugs, and promiscuity ‘for its own sake’, and money ‘for its own sake’…
Sound a bit like the modern world? At least there’s yet the BUSHIDO floating around as
a beacon amidst all of the other flotsam. Soon we’ll be diving into the ocean and there
will be more plastics floating around than clean water or fish. Why not make the perfect
within context an ideal again, like (i’ll be flattering) the Bushido. ? Anyway the
cultural wrong turn in other words was Plato but his student Aristotle went many, many
miles down the road and mapping it in the corrected direction; perhaps he yet awaits our
taking of the baton and continuing onward… In their behalf I’ll say the Platonic/Semitic
facades served a purpose, doesn’t mean they were accurate for ever. Regards, p.s. you see
because TIME is also a factor a wrong turn in the past may have been ok or even accurate
for then, while we grow into the corrected way in time. Or is it too late? Time waits for
no one, sadly. And also there are different pockets of time all over the world. What works
in one place doesn’t in another. I very much enjoy your pieces.
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You could (and should) have moored in Vouliagmeni, Taki. Daniel the cook would not have minded. Actually, he’d better not mind.
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What intrigues me is the recurrent mentioning of ‘the mother of your children’. It sound s cheap somehow.Can’t you just call her your wife? (Since you are married, according to your own cv.)
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The Romans used to say - ‘only the woman is *certissima.’ If I spelled it correctly. By
which they meant of the two it takes to tango only the voman is certain or sure she is one
of the parents. Prior to DNA testing the husband took it on faith if she ‘said’ so, he was
the father. Well Curt (above) the Romans came after the Greeks so perhaps it is custom for
Greeks to say ‘the mother of my children’ since he’s sure and claims them and is honored
that she gave him children?! Why to modern or postmodern ears does it sound ‘cheap’ to
keep children as the center and focal point of a marriage relationship? Is it because today
in the feminist world, it is the woman who must be placed on a pedestal and not her
offspring? I don’t know. I’m only asking? What do I know...I’m ‘a bachelor farmer’,
approximately...living out here where the prairie meets the tundra. I kid.
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Taki,I am in love with you.
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Quote: “Taki,I am in love with you.” -sapphie (end quote) Sapphie not to be out done as
a guy, (i’m assuming you’re a gal?), like george in Seinfeld I have a non-sexual crush
on taki. At first I just thought it was just on bushido or as it were dignified creature
comforts but taki writes well and has character and knows stuff...like me, and folks at
chronicles magazine as opposed to say at national review. So i realized my non-sexual
crush is admiration too like for chronicles peoples. How about you, can you articulate
more? You’re not a mute are you? I’m wondering about context? Since your protestation of
love is public is it like hiring a plane to write it in the sky for us all to read, and
that is sufficient?
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