Athens trip, day two. What didn’t we do? The day started with a hair appointment. Unlike when I cut my hair with a pair of clippers and little enthusiasm, and unlike a trip to a local barber or even one on Rhodes, this was something of a state occasion. Planned, booked, and looked forward to, I’d recommended a barber we’d used in the past just of Syntagma Square. Traditional, very well kitted out, and professional, I knew they did the full service from ears to nose to shaves to haircuts, although those extras weren’t needed on this occasion, and nor was the ‘Something for the weekend, Sir?’ that only British men of a certain age will understand. Even the floor tiles are interesting at Sir Barber.
I stayed with H while the others wandered, and was treated to a strong Greek coffee – my first in many years – while himself had his hair washed and discussed, books were brought in and browsed, deep deliberations were held, and finally there was some in-the-chair action with clippers and scissors, combs and much theatre. Another wash, some more business, and then some product analysis, and 45 minutes later, there was a beaming teen, totally made up and having had his first trad barber experience. I, by this time, was bouncing along on a large shot of caffeine and the sniff of ammonia thioglycolate fumes, and off we strode to meet the others at Panepistimio. Strode, note. We’d been to a gentleman’s barbers and left there like the Johny Walker Whisky man, all strut and confidence (and caffeine).
Once we’d rendezvoused with the others, we strode on to find the Nakas Music Store where I could have spent the rest of the day. Talk about choice. All I wanted was some more piano music to play, but… what? I bought a book that will be useful for our piano lessons and thought I’d come back another day for a longer, solo browse. A treat that was to be denied me, as it turned out. That done, we then headed to Old Man’s Paradise #3, the model shop. I don’t mean Smantha Fox type models, but kits and paints, and the smell of both, and middle-aged men with their sons and godsons oohing over undercoats and Humbrol, marvelling at fake grass and plastic parts, and trying to avoid saying things like ‘In my day…’ We have two kits to build, you see. A Cutty Sark for me (Airfix), and a Toyota of some modern sort for the teen, but like the barber, it’s something of a first, so we needed the right paints and brushes, tweezers and cutters and… Eighty Euros later and off we toddle to the real event of the day, the shopping mall.
A quick aside here. We’d bought travel cards so we didn’t have to worry about a) paying each time we took the metro or bus, or b) being fined for not stamping the tickets. (Not mentioning any names.) Five days of unlimited public transport travel for €8.20 (except the airport connection), and, it’s an old-fashioned paper card so there’s no need to top up this-and-that or breed oysters or whatever. Easy, efficient, and very cheap. So, metro to the Mall to enter a world of OMG. Obviously, Mother went off to do leisurely lady shopping while we boys did expert boy shopping: two t-shirts, a quick look at some tech, then a sit down with three plates of noodles and beer. Done. What’s next?
While there, we booked tickets for Wonka on New Year’s Day, and then, as Neil’s treat, strode next door (the haircut empowerment was still in full swing) to go ten-pin bowling. That did little for my back, but was great fun, even though they put my name up on the board as Topy, and with the Greek Ro (r) looking like a Latin P it was, in effect, Tory, but the good-news omen here is that I lost.
That match was followed by a pool competition which, playing as myself and without political affiliation, I won, and then it was off home to put our feet up and admire the hairdo. Again. The coffee had just about worn off by the time I sat down for half a pizza, looking forward to the following day, which would be New Year’s Eve, and I’ll tell you about that tomorrow.
