Goodbye Plaka

 

Photo courtesy of Liana

Athens felt like home. Plaka felt like home. Over the last few days I've tried to remember all the times and different reasons I came to Greece - which always involved Athens.

The first time was 1976 - on my way to Israel. It was one of at least two occasions when I took the Piraeus - Limassol - Haifa ferry. (It's not possible anymore.) So Greece, Athens, is firmly lodged in my memory as a part of my visits to Israel. And they were always occasions of great joy. So Athens basks in the glow of my memories of Israel.

There were several other visits that had nothing to do with Israel. Peter and I came here on route to our eventual destination of Patmos. Hiske and I on route to Sifnos. With Elizabeth on route to Delphi. And then there were a couple of occasions with the Australian Greek truck drivers out of Arnhem. On all these visits there would have been a visit to Plaka  - that’s where I would have stayed.  Probably on Odos Nikis - it sounded very familiar.

When I stood there on my last night on one of those charming narrow streets in Plaka I felt like I was saying goodbye to a considerable chunk of my life. I doubt I'll be back there.

I shed a tear in a moment of sweet sadness as I took in the sight of Plaka one last time. A bouzouki and guitar duo added to the sentimental moment as I bade farewell to a wonderful part of my life. A part that was young, fancy free, and fearless.

It's difficult at this age farewelling old much loved haunts. You know in all likelihood this goodbye is the last. Plaka will go on drawing in travellers of all ages from across the globe. They’ll continue to sip wine beneath the Acropolis and feel part of something ancient and charming. ‘Efcharisto’
Plaka. I've always enjoyed being here.