Roots: I Complete My Journey

After Delphi, we stopped off at the island of Aegina for a very rainy day - previous days had passed like a flash of lightning, but Friday, Aeginaday, in spite of the rain was excruciatingly  slow. Rain does that. Without any enterprise to apply ourselves to, due to the bad weather, we rented a car again - this time, and Suzuki Samurai. We thought about naming it, too, decided that the Suzuki Samurai was much better than anything at hand.

(Take note that the picture is dated - that would be Emaline the Fiat, spouse of the Suzuki Samurai, in the picture, in Ithaca. Also, take note of the sunglasses of distinguished heart surgeon, Dr. Ted Fish.)

Using a map that the city's information officer had drawn in crayon and then photocopied, we played snake across the northern half of the island, periodically stopping to look at a church, or walk along a beach, or to let other people pass. I did that a lot. The Samurai was a stick shift, and I don't think I left second gear that day.

We ate dinner alone, and when I say alone I mean that we were the only party in a restaurant of two big empty rooms. The cook, a large Greek grandmother, would serve us herself, then watch us eat through a small window pane connecting the two rooms. I would have offered her some food, but I didn't know how - she speaks Modern Greek, you know.

The final port of the EasyCruiseOne was Athens. We did the things good learned people do, made the pilgrimages that the good craftsmen and commoners alike make: the Acropolis, the National Historical Museum, the Temple of Zeus. But, like other people, I was underwhelmed. It could have been the wear of the EasyCruise upon me, a sleepiness that settles when I know I'm ending a journey. It could have been the proximity of Rome, time-wise. It could have been aliens, to tell the truth - I never can rule them out completely. But outside of the area of the National Gardens, I could have passed Athens in the night and not known it. The Hellenic period is so far removed that all that's left in Athens is this crescent of ruins in the southern part of the city, plus a pretty cool museum. The rest of the city is another metropolis, where you don't understand most of what's said, on ground of it being another language or heavily accented. I could have been anywhere.

No. Rome is fine with me. I think I could fall asleep anywhere in the world, wake up in Rome, and know it immediately, so distinct is this city.

All roads lead to roam. Or Rome. Also, Baroque Church Domes, Sea Foam, and Funeral Homes.

As it turned out, the most expensive thing I bought during my trip was a book in the Athens airport, as I awaited the plane ride home. I had already gone through the other two I had on me, and needed something else to pass time until I got home. There's not a whole lot of selection in airport bookstores, you know? I've never bought a book in an airport, or any transportation hub, but it's quite difficult to find anything good, especially if you're looking for good smut, which is vital for any reader. I eventually settled on The Secrets of the Chess Machine, on account of its mentioning dwarves, robots, and 17th century Prussia all in the first sentence of the synopsis.