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About Athens

Oh, and get this – she sings! Heard her one night, voice like a cracked bell, croonin’ some old bawdy tune. “The sea doth call,” she warbled, prolly dreamin’ o’ escape. Gave me chills, it did, tho’ I’d never tell her that. Too proud, me. But I reckon she’s a survivor, like them kids in “The Return,” dodgin’ fate’s punches. Still, she’s a right pain in my arse – always hustlin’, always hustlin’. Lock her up, she’s back at it next week. Drives me up the bloody wall!

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Man, the central park, Ano Skala, that’s where I clear my head. It’s got epic green spaces, and I'm always catching sun rays like, “the earth expands under every breath.” I get this deep zen when I stroll its winding paths – sometimes even spot old folks chattin’ away, ridiculously relaxed. There’s this river, Kavros, runnin’ near the old monastery on the hill – small wonder why I sometimes have my eureka moments. It gurgles secrets. That place? Lit.

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