Agios Nikolaos to Athens

The usual feelings of sadness because it as our last day in Agios Nikolaos. Paid our bill (in cash, to help out Hotel Creta) and had a good old chat with the Danish woman on reception before heading out for breakfast. Kosta's had been recommended by hotel boss Bernadette when we checked in, but we either hadn't tried it or it hadn't been open when we thought of it. This morning, perhaps because we were earlier than usual getting our act together, Kosta and the Missus were there in style, sitting with a group of locals, and they looked after us right royally with a fine basic brekky. Mrs Kosta especially was very attentive and even suggested that she might have met me twenty years ago when I was last in Agios!

After a final walkabout and some final photos it was back to the hotel to organise a taxi to the bus station. Since we were on a domestic flight, we didn't have to bother with the usual two-hours-ahead checkin, and were good to wait for the 11:15 bus to Heraklion airport. It was a stop-everywhere bus, and some of the touristy places it stopped at were unbelievably ugly — Hersonissos and Malia, for instance. We had plenty of time to spare, but even so we were the last two to board the flight to Athens. A beautiful plane, provided by Aegean Airlines, with better leg room than Ryanair or Aer Lingus, and we were even given sucky sweets for takeoff and complimentary soft drinks during the 50-minute flight.

Naturally we had to have a pit stop when we got through to Arrivals in Athens, so it was 5:00 pm by the time the Metro to the city moved off (bang on time, just like the bus had been earlier). A dreadful journey, though, much worse than we remembered from last time. Very warm and very packed, so a rather uncomfortable 45 minutes before we reached Syntagma Square. Lots of Greek flags in evidence, and young people painting protest banners and a general feeling of rather frantic activity. A big change after Agios. Waffles and crepes and beer, then a taxi to the Jason Inn hotel for our one-night stay.

Carl found a likely place for eats online, and we headed out to make our way there. Not a pleasant experience. We have a view of the Acropolis from our balcony, and the hotel makes a big deal of its roof-top terrace and its to-die-for view, but the main view on our wearying walk was of graffiti. Everywhere! Every available surface has been defaced around Monastiraki, the part of the city we're based in. The place we were looking for was closed, so we had to improvise. We finally found a nice spot with a really nice waitress, had a cocktail in a place close by, and then walked and walked along the very long Ermou Street back to our hotel. The place beside where we ate closed up shop bang on midnight, so we were afraid that early closing might be the norm. It wasn't, and things were still buzzing as we made our way home. Nowhere tempted us, though, so the night finished with a bit of a whimper.

The blip shows what I suppose would be considered more wall art than graffiti. Certainly it's on a different scale to most of the ugly stuff we saw, and maybe even its message is appropriate for the unfortunate Greek situation.