Goddess of Wisdom & War
- Joanna
- 2 hours ago
- 8 min read
I’ve noticed one thing while I’ve been here… and this is definitely going to sound a little bizarre. But here goes…
I’m sure most of you have heard, from time to time, that Canadians are “so kind.” Yeah… me too. Especially in the hospitality industry. And honestly, whenever people say this to me, I can’t really wrap my head around it. Normally, I respond with some flippant comment about how we’re not all so nice… and how we have plenty of rude people in Canada too. Because… we do.
It’s true.
But the brief time I’ve been in Paris and Athens, I think I’ve finally started to understand what people mean.
Now, I’m not saying everyone in Paris and Athens is rude. Not at all. Not one bit. I’m also not implying that all Canadians take the gold medal in friendliness. Nope. Not at all.
It’s just that Canadians are unusually prone to saying things like “hello,” “excuse me,” and especially… “I’m sorry.”
Oodles of “I’m sorry.”
I think that’s where the real difference lies. We apologize constantly… for bumping into someone, for asking a question, for being the first out the door, for going left instead of right, for someone cutting us off, for existing slightly too close to another human being…. For ANYTHING! And maybe that endless stream of politeness is what gets mistaken for national kindness.
We’re not necessarily nicer. We’re just aggressively apologetic. I don’t know… but I’ve definitely noticed the lack of hello’s and the absence of “I’m sorry.”
Canadians are weird.
Anyway… we spent a lot of time in Athens with Thanos and Aliki, and I think that really pleased Tom. He had mentioned that on previous visits, Thanos had been far too busy to really dedicate quality time with him, so this time felt different. He made much more of an effort, and it was nice to see.
We all had a fabulous lunch after visiting the rescue centre on the first day. Then somehow, the following day, despite the absolutely absurd amount of food we had consumed on our food tour, we met up again for dinner. Honestly, I’m surprised any of us could even look at food by that point. Thanos originally didn’t want to meet until after 9pm, which sounded absurd to us at the time.
Who meets for dinner at 9pm?
… the Greeks do.
But after the copious amounts of food we’d eaten that afternoon, we were kicking ourselves for not agreeing to it. Instead, we went along with Aliki, who wanted to meet around 7pm or 7:30pm. She won… and our painfully full stomachs paid the price.
Aliki… well… that’s a different story altogether. Different… yes… but undeniably interesting. I’d say she’s going through a “phase,” though that probably isn’t even the right word at all anymore. She’s recently discovered casual sex… though not exactly in the healthiest or most grounded way.
It seems she’s also discovered hookup sites, sneaking around, and… unfortunately, married men. Not just “married” men… cheating, married men. She refers to them as her “boyfriends,” though nothing about these arrangements resembles a real relationship at all. There's one “boyfriend” in particular… the seemingly regular one… whose photo has been shown to us on more than one occasion. It’s a dramatic black & white close-up of a quite handsome man with weathered features... and enough grey in his beard to make him look distinguished. The photo looks so polished it almost feels less like a genuine personal photo... and more like a professional headshot for someone trying to break into film. I don’t know. The whole situation feels slightly surreal.
Every morning, she gets up at 4am for this guy. She drives up into the mountains and meets him at some discreet, hidden location before sunrise. It all feels so strange, so secretive… very transactional, and a little sad, actually.
Hence, the request for an earlier dinner time.
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
Tom joked it would have to be pretty incredible sex to drag him out of bed at 4am to drive up a mountain. I said it would have to be pretty incredible sex to make me feel used for the rest of the day.
I mentioned to Merel that it must have been difficult… even insulting… to listen to her talk so casually about being involved with married men. It feels like such a complete disregard for the meaning and commitment of marriage itself.
I love Athens.
When I look back at my time here in the late ’90s, I mostly remember smog and graffiti. That’s about it. It’s either changed drastically, or my memory sucks. Yes, there were certain pockets of the city that were beautiful and/or intriguing. I do remember that. I still remember the road to the Piraeus port lined with Greek souvenirs and giant barrels of olives. But after coming back twice now, I see the city in a completely different light. I genuinely love it.
I even love the weirdos here.
After dinner, we were all wandering through the streets surrounding Syntagma Square, trying to decide where to go for coffee. Out of nowhere, this completely random woman stormed past us and yelled at us, “McDonald’s!”
Then she just kept walking.
We all sort of stood there for a second like… okay then. Thanks for the recommendation, I guess. Crazy.
I love seeing the Acropolis of Athens standing there in all its glory… although I can confidently say I’ll never venture up again. Been there, done that. The lineups and crowds are just too much for me now. It actually makes me really happy that I experienced it back in May of 1999, when it felt like it was basically just Sarah (my friend I travelled to Greece with) and me wandering around up there.
After the food tour, Merel and I ended up walking a lap around the Acropolis, just trying to burn off at least a fraction of what we’d eaten. A completely pointless exercise, really, but it made us feel slightly less guilty about the mountain of food we’d consumed. We strolled through Anafiotika, on the slopes of the Acropolis. This area feels almost like a tiny Greek island dropped right into the centre of Athens, with its narrow staircases, colourful houses, blue shutters, cats everywhere, and incredible little viewpoints.
Athens… it just feels so quaint to me. Aliki says it’s an ugly city with just a few beautiful corners, and maybe she’s right, because, to be honest, I’ve really only experienced a small part of it. But what I see, I love. The winding streets. The tavernas. The open air. The cats. Little vendors tucked into corners. The fairy lights. The flowers spilling over the wee balconies.
Oh... the beautiful balconies…
They almost make me want to be a smoker again. They DO make me want to be a smoker again. They just create this romantic illusion that smoking somehow belongs to this atmosphere. I'd love to just sit there, leaning against the old iron railings, admiring the Acropolis in the distance... entranced in some fabulous conversation... with a glass of rosé... and a cigarette.
But those days are gone.
Of course, as per the norm when I'm on vacation (or not on vacation), my phone was constantly dying. That should surprise absolutely no one. I’ve finally developed enough travel wisdom to at least bring a charging cord and one of those little plug-in wall thingies. Not the actual foresight to charge my phone beforehand, mind you… but progress is progress. Right? Now, whenever I duck into a café or restaurant, I immediately start scouting for two things: coffee and an outlet. Preferably together. It’s become a full-on scavenger hunt across Athens.
Ok... I do have to mention something, and I'd love everyone's input. Speaking of annoyances...
I’m now on a mission to determine whether this is real or an elaborate scam targeting confused tourists like me. I was charged a “climate crisis tax” at my Athens accommodation. Nobody else seemed to get charged for it. Just me. I've had this happen to me in other locations... and I seem to be the only one. The cheese stands alone.
They always want me to leave additional cash in the room... for whatever it is. Climate crisis resilience tax, city tax, tourist tax... the list goes on and on. What irritates me the most is that when I book online, it boldly declares that “all taxes are included.”
Hmmmmm....
Apparently not the environment-saving ones.
My life is hard.
There’s something deeply annoying about arriving somewhere thinking everything is fully paid for, only to suddenly be rummaging through your bag for extra cash to personally assist with the recovery efforts for the current climate crisis.
Is this a real thing, or are they just getting more money from a gullible tourist?
You think they’re taking my €24 and eco-upgrading their cooling systems? No. They’re buying wine.
I know this game.
I checked out just before 11 and met up with everyone afterward. We wandered down toward Syntagma Square and found a spot to sit down and enjoy a coffee. It was everyone’s last day together, although I was the first one heading out. I had a flight to catch to Budapest.
Thanos met us there too, which was honestly so nice. He really made a huge effort this trip, and we all really appreciated it. Aliki couldn’t make it... I’m sure she was exhausted from her morning romp.
It was wonderful seeing everyone again. These people were only part of my life for a relatively short time, but it was such a significant chapter. Who else can say they spent two summers in their twenties living in an olive grove on Crete, helping to protect Loggerhead sea turtles?
The volunteer work, the isolation, the relentless heat, the hard days, the laughter, the heartbreak, the frustration, the ridiculous moments... all of it bonded us in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced something similar. I’m so glad these people are back in my life... after we all lost touch for a while.
I figured it was about time for another frappé. So good. Exactly the way I remembered it.
Back at camp, frappés were the easiest thing in the world to make: instant coffee, milk... or powdered milk if that’s all we had... water, ice, and a shaker. *Normally, we didn't have ice, though. Shake it aggressively until it turned frothy and somehow magical in the unbearable Greek heat.
The first one was delicious.
Then, for reasons completely unknown to me, I ordered a second one.
Huge mistake.
Total caffeine overload.
I barely even drink coffee anymore, so why I thought a second Greek frappé was a good idea is beyond me. I absolutely did not need it, and I spent most of the train ride to the airport feeling mildly nauseous and poisoned.
I think I’m slowly learning that I need a more balanced rhythm in life. Less really is more. Everything in moderation. That might actually be my biggest problem. Of course, despite this profound realization, I still made a mental note to order some Greek frappé mix online later. So clearly, I have learned absolutely nothing. I talk all this moderation nonsense, but let’s be perfectly clear... I’m probably never going to practice what I preach.
I picked up my luggage, made my way out, and thankfully, the airport transfer was smooth and easy.
Next stop: Budapest.
But Greece… Greece definitely holds a piece of my heart.
And I already know... I’ll be back.
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