Luckily Micheal, the hapless Yank, had already gone out when we got up at 10:00 hrs. so we were free of an expected burden. We steamed down to Syntagma Square and completed our postcards in the fresh morning air over a coffee. We sent people a new post restante address in Paris for our final mail pickup.
Next, we booked up a Magic Bus to Venice for Saturday 21st January 1984 at a cost of $30 US dollars (3,000 Drachma) and I tried to get rid of my Iranian Rials in the Bank of Iran. Even they would have none of it, what a poxy worthless currency.
We had also picked up the European Youth Hostels Handbook and walked up Patisson to book bed space for Thursday and Friday night. Patission Street connects the area known as Patissia with Omonoia Square in the centre of Athens.
As usual the diversity of motorcycles on the streets attracted our attention as well as the wide spectrum of magazines on display at the many newsagent booths. We passed the bus office at 100 Eolou, next to the Post Office, where we would pick up the coach at 11:00 hrs. on Saturday.
Eolou became Patission which in turn became 28 Octovriou as we trudged along. The shops were now closed for the afternoon siesta. We passed Areos Park (Pedion tou Areos or Pedion Areos) which is one of the largest public parks in Athens, Greece. It is also the name of the wider neighbourhood.
We continued passed an open-air swimming pool and finally reached the official International Youth Hostel at 57 Kipselis. The warden told us that there was no need to book in advance, so we slouched back to the hostel where we were currently staying.
Earlier this morning we also did some further exploration of the Flea Market at Monastiraki by the subway station, outside of which there were fruit sellers. As it was so cold and likely to get colder, I invested in a USAF field jacket which was a snip at 500 Drachma after a bit of bartering.
We had coffee in a sunny square and “did a runner” after failing to find anybody to pay. We looked at a copy of LAM magazine which we picked up at the Magic Bus Travel Company office on Filellinon, and ideas for future trips blossomed as we scanned the possibilities. LAM magazine was aimed at travellers and backpackers in London and was available for free from dispensers on the streets of the capital, generally at London Underground Stations.
We gorged on bread rolls with pork luncheon meat, milk and Monster Munch (a baked corn snack, manufactured by Walkers in the UK) before re-entering the dormitory. Zorba the Junkie, who looked like Cat Stevens, got the needle when we turned the light on despite the fact that he was poring over his newspaper collection.
Michael looked relieved to see us, sitting up in his bed to pour out his troubles. Despite taking a taxi and possessing a marked city map he had failed to find the International Youth Hostel HQ. He blamed it on his lack of Greek language ability, but it was more a case of lack of common sense.
As he continued, almost to the point of tears, we realised how useless he was. Incapable of the simplest task he had resigned himself to a day in bed. “Where are the bars”? he asked as Frenchie began to tune up his guitar. We told him we didn’t know as we had been in any, but I suspect he thought that we were lying.
He got up and went out to see for himself and we bumped into him as we walked along Imitou. He reported failure to find any bars although we were standing outside one and could point out several more in close proximity. Presumably, his mark of a bar was a Budweiser sign in the window. He made to join us, dithered, then copped out as we walked decisively away down a side street. Hopefully, his trip to Europe taught him some life lessons and he returned to the States a better man.
We settled in a pizza café for Nescafé and wrote our daily logs as locals watched a sub-titled American situation comedy on the television. As we walked around town these last few days, we seem to have attracted the amorous stares of young Greek girls. We concluded that they must fancy a rougher looking breed than their fashion-conscious male counterparts as we look like a couple of soldiers of fortune fallen on bad times!
Another useless wretch that we encountered today was a local shopkeeper who took ages to add up our bill, got it wrong and then bowed, cringed and whimpered as he sought to rectify the situation. The buying of a few items which should have been a quick, simple transaction, was thus spun out for about ten minutes.
There seemed to be an unusually high number of old BMW motorcycles about on the streets of Athens. On our way back we popped into a record shop and had an absorbing rummage through the albums and singles on offer. It is good to see unusual foreign issues and records by little known British groups, but frustrating as 12-inch vinyl disks are not the most portable items for the budget traveller.
Back at the dormitory Michael was back in bed and so was Frenchie. Zorba the Junkie was out on his nocturnal foraging. Without further ado we hit the sack.
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