Fast cars and dirty streets.

Saturday and Sunday 31st May and 1st June. Working on the outskirts of Athens at a rundown air force base, sitting in a trailer with bad aircon and editing cars racing. Woo Hoo! It is strange here as it’s the media HQ but also gets spectators coming to see their favourite drivers and cars being worked on. I’m not a big rally car fan… ok, I’m not a fan at all. The setup here is rather lame. A crappy canteen the likes that would rival any suburban soccer club. The staff only speaking Greek to a multilingual media contingent. The worst iced coffees I’ve ever had making me pine for Israels glorious caffeinated goodness. Some merchandise huts are set up where punters can purchase shirts, backpacks, hats etc with WRC branding as well as a car simulator gives the kids something to do besides complaining to dad about the boredom.

And 4 porta-loos between them all.

I’m one to kvetch about bowel movements, as you know, and when it comes to a good number twos, my daily shower shave and shit are journal worthy. I’ll save you the details this time (wait for the book to come out!), but how can you have several hundred people fighting over 4 toilets with little or no paper and NO place to wash your hands? I can imagine the germs being spread around with handshakes and food handling. At this stage I have no signs of any communicable diseases but the warts on my hands and ass may be a worrying sign.

Randomly placed coffee stand complete with leggy Greek girls. This is their good side.

The rally car simulator. Kids sit at the wheel and some helpers rock the car from side to side really quickly.

How bleak the place is. Organised by a Greek concreter. See larger.

Oh the horror! Hot cheese nachos and bad coffee! ARGH!

The cleverly designed media trailers that pack up like an Ikea cupboard, get attached to a truck and driven to the next country.

The dreaded porta-loo. I’d rather go in the bush and use sandpaper.

Where are all the good looking girls? And good coffee? And toilet paper?

Come Sunday I finish up working and go back to the Mare Nostrum Hotel. Almost tearing a page from The Shining, the hotel is full of elderly couples, Russian and French tourists and dead people. I had a nightmare that I was on a 100 year cruise and this was the company, along with loud and out of key musician and singer and overpriced beer.

The lovely Kevin (on the left) sings many Greek standards such as ‘I’m Nick the concreter’, ‘If I said you had lovely worry beads would you hold it against me?’ and ‘Souvlaki, Souvlaki, Souvlaki, Oi, Oi, Oi!’.

I return to my room for the last night to see the program I edited that day on Greek television.

Monday 2nd June. I check out of the hotel and wait for a nearby bus to take me to a not so nearby train station to take me to Athens.

A greek style souvenir shop complete with third story granny flat.

Onboard one of Athens very impressive and clean (!!!!) metro trains. The metro is very easy to use and get around. The stations are very clean. The people are very pushy and deserve a good spanking but after learning how to deal with pushy crowds in Israel I fit right in here.

Having looked online for a cheap place to stay I find the Epidavros Hotel with a private room and ensuite. Walking down from Omonia Station the streets are a worrying sign with dirty footpaths, hawkers pushing crappy wares, some ladies of the night (or day) and vagrants. Hoping the hotel wasn’t their hangout I checked into the Dav. The room was ok complete with aircon and tv, yay.

Outside my room window. Notice the lovely shades of concrete gray.

Not a hotel. Not a shop. I don’t know what it is!

An X-rated cinema complex nearby.

A lovely selection of classics.

Statue of ‘Squinty McGinty’, first blind tourist to walk up the Acropolis.

Cheap apartment blocks run off only one air conditioner unit for 200 rooms.

Statue telling all tourists they are Losers.

A janitor in Omonia Station cleaning with Ammonia.

Statue of Gary the Giant who apparently knocked the Tower of Pisa.

Ever since the 2004 Olympics, out of work pigeons have turned to the streets, begging for crumbs, sniffing dog poo to get high, defecating in nearby fountains and mobbing tourists for spare change.

In a petstore an Australian cockatoo is forced to mate with a local finch creating a cock-inch woodpecker.

After having to hear the sins of local housewives and graffiti artists, a Father takes a smoko and auditions a new alter boy.

That afternoon I take a walk around the Plaka area of Athens. The Plaka is a wonderfully vibrant and colourful area of Athens with loads of restaurants, cafes, souvenir shops, counterfeit hawkers, bars and taverns. It also sits beneath the shadow of the ancient rock collection that is the Acropolis.

Walking down the laneways ther are numerous eateries with loud restaurant spruikers offering suckers… I mean tourists menu’s and garuntees of a tasty meal. I sat at the first place I saw that looked like it had decent Greek food.

Eli? Is that you in the red dress?

My first disappointing meal in Athens. The chicken was dry and they put chips with everything and give you bread that you have to pay extra for even though you didn’t ask for it.

One of the many laneways around Plaka with souvenir shops selling fake Greek plastic vomit and 400 varieties of ouzo.

In Israel it was shop after shop of mass produced Judaica. Her it is mass produced ancient figures, busts, and other crap.

The Acropolis above. Cheap touristy trinkets below.

One of the many outdoor restaurants scatterd around this area. See larger.

The Plaka at night.

The next day, Tuesday 3rd June I return to the area for a walk atop the Acrop. These rocks shaped like pillars and large impressive buildings wer built around 400BC. That’s old. Before Credit (cards).

The view of the Acropolis (on the right) and Athens. See larger.

Me being somewhat unimpressed with scaffolding.

The parthenon. Not possible to get a clear shot without Jo America and his wife Jane in the way. I’m sure these people follow me from site to site. I swear I saw them in Jordan.

A modern day kyber toss arena. Unfortunately Nick got under that one. Not pretty.

I can see my hotel from up here!

Wow! Me infront of crumbling marble. The site is a mess also. Cigarette buts, rubbish. There are badly positioned signs telling very little about the structures and what they were used for. Leaves me to make up my own story.

I take a quick look around and make my way down, navigating the narrow laneways full of beautiful houses and places to shop and eat. I stop at a cute little cafe and get a Greek coffee. This includes muddy black coffee, sugar, a nice turkish delight and a nice view for writing my thoughts.

I think the woman on the right smelled my shoes. Either that or my manly man sweat. Maybe both.

This old dude was 23 when he started up the hill. Here he is helped by his son in training.

Grape vines cover the laneways with grapes in full bloom. As you can see, no one cares.

After walking around this great area I find a hostel that has a bed in a shared dorm going for cheap. As I’ve never shared a dorm with strangers before I rise to the challenge of trying something new and book myself in for a few nights and check out of the Epidavros dumpo. I take my things up to a 4 bed dorm and pick a bed. I am told the other 3 beds will be taken later that day. I don’t know who it will be and enjoy finding out.

The view from the hostel room. I warm to the thought of finding local Greek delicacies, wine, atmosphere, energy and spirit. Boy was I to be disappointed!

That night I take a seat in the hostel courtyard and strike up a conversation with some other travelers. I meet Chad and his wife Giselle from Alaska. They live in a town called Bethel, a good flight from Anchorage in a remote area. Giselle is a dentists there. I can’t remember what Chad does. Sorry Chad. Will ask you later. I sit and chat with them for a while before heading to bed. Upon entering the dorm I find my room mates to be 3 cute fillies from Romania. Deary me! What is a boy to do???? Theiry not Jewish mum so I behaved myself!

The next morning I went with Chad and Giselle to a beach suggested to them by a local. Taking the tram an hour to the east along the coast we came upon the site told to them. I couldn’t believe it. It was rocky, void of anywhere to sit and eat and drink (like Tel Aviv!!!!) and was full of old leathery old near dead tourists and locals. We sat and cried a little.

Like a scene out of Cocoon the movie.

An old leatherskin died so we buried her here.

Giselle and Chad. I took this photo with my foot. See my hands?

Speaks for itself.

Once we had enough of watching the old farts tan their hides we headed back to the hostel.

The sperm bank is next door.

That night I went to see Indian Jones and the Wasted Forth Movie at a rooftop cinema near the hostel. It’s a great place to see a movie as it’s in the open, you can eat, drink, smoke and take in the view of the Acropolis that is lit up at night. The movie is shit.

See larger.

Me and my chicky roommates from Romania. Svetlana, Sabridoobskaya and Ramadabadingdongaya.