As the 737 tips its wings across the dusty spine of the Pindus Mountains and banks to starboard on its approach to Eleftherios Venizelos airport, the eternal hills of Athens come into view. They lie like a woman behind a soiled mosquito net; the horizon, dirt-coloured mounds of thighs, ragged shoreline, like fingers, dangling over the mainland edge, into the cobalt sea. Here and there you catch a glimpse of glittery apartment windows and cars on the tangle of streets, smoke on the meandering coils of tarry tresses. ? ? ? The antiqued Tarzan in the tangerine Speedo has his package arranged just so and when he strikes a pose on the patio with one leg cocked at the knee in front…
Categories: Travel
