For my first night out in Athens, we head to the renowned rooftop bar, A is for Athens, it's phenomenal view living up to expectations. Booking ahead is best advised if you want to sit on the rooftop with the best view of the Acropolis, though we did only have to wait a short while to get the best seat in the house (the same cannot be said of the drinks service, however). My cocktail was extremely disappointing, so after a bottle of wine we headed to the adjacent rooftop bar, 360. The view of the Acropolis was just as breathtaking with much more of a buzzing atmosphere and more importantly the cocktails were delectably potent - the choice was so difficult to make that we ordered four and rotated them.
After countless varieties of drinks and assorted bowls of nibbles (I am sure from this day forth I shall expect nuts with every drink that I am served) we head for a Gyros. It is delicious; succulent shavings of pork, creamy and zingy tzatziki and blush red tomatoes in a giant wrap (the chips were a bit dry as it was the end of the night but who can complain at two euros and twenty cents). Sofia, truly the worlds greatest chocoholic, opts for a crepe from next door and comes back with the worlds most indulgently, sickly desert. Nutella, white praline, Bueno, Ferrero rocher and goodness knows what else, she really did give the ‘unlimited filling’ option a run for it’s money. It was unbelievably sweet and filling but we all find ourselves in line for another bite.
My stomach lurches as I write these words, as regrettably, a few hours later I had to encounter all these wonderful foods and drinks that I poured into my stomach projecting all over my bathroom sink. The Captain’s son has been living on board for the past three weeks and had been ill, a few crewmembers had been sick since and tonight – was my turn.
My stomach lurches as I write these words, as regrettably, a few hours later I had to encounter all these wonderful foods and drinks that I poured into my stomach projecting all over my bathroom sink. The Captain’s son has been living on board for the past three weeks and had been ill, a few crewmembers had been sick since and tonight – was my turn.
This had been my day, it was all planned, we would wake up early and climb the limestone hill, Mount Lyccabettus (which once I misprounounced it as Mount Lickmypuss, I have been unable to call it anything else since). Story has it that the Mount came to be when Athena dropped a rock whilst building the Acropolis. An alternative fable involved wolves..sadly what they had to do with it, I cannot remember. The walk was expected to take around thirty minutes but we accidently got a taxi over half of the way up. Though I think the cheating saved me the tiny bit of energy that I fathomed to enjoy the view at the top, we genuinely all wanted the legwork but the taxi driver just kept driving and driving. We sat staring at eachother, then at the driver, then at eachother again, all hoping he was taking us to some kind of walking starting point. Of all the places I have travelled, Greece has really been the most difficult when it comes to communicating your way around.