Last Day in Athens

Saturday, August 10

When we came home from our trip yesterday, Oswaldo opened his computer and said, "So they elected me." He was referring to having been nominatied for the Steering Committee for Fédération Internationale des Sociétés de Philosophie (FISP), which apart from being a great honor for my deserving husband means traveling even more. Looks like next year will include Rome and Beijing :)

This morning he has to go to his first committee meeting and leaves me in charge of packing our stuff, since we have an early departure tomorrow. I get a routine going, rolling in my chair from cupboard to bed with our things on my knee and quickly fill the 2 suitcases. I also tend to encouraging e-mails from our hotels in Crete and Santorini, who promise to work on solutions including waterproofing my cast so I can get into a pool. I am obsessed with being able to do this. When Oswaldo gets home it's already afternoon and he reports scalding temperatures outside. Since all museums have closed by now (now we know!) we decide on a late lunch and a stroll.

Just up the road we find a nice cool place where we order the fried haloumi cheese, which we love, roasted eggplant, and tsatziki - in honor of Alberto Sant'Anna who complained I never mentioned it :) The version we get is a fluffy white heap of whipped yougurt (the Greek yougurt is so thick and rich it is a meal in itself), flavored with cucumber, mint and a lot of garlic. Fabulous on the crusty bread on our table.

While we're eating we hear brakes and a short scream outside. A boy has been hit by a motorcycle. He's hurt, but apparently not unconscious, and in the restaurant everything stops while the staff, genuinely concerned, runs out to offer water and then juice. Soon after appears a policeman on a bike, and then the boy is taken away with his family. I think of my own lonely fall a week ago exactly in almost the same place, sitting on the ground calling for help and not finding it. A very different experience. Unfortunate.

While on our stroll though the neighborhood. I notice a lady tending on a balcony tending to her plants in the company of two French Bulldogs, one black and one white. In the time it takes me to get out the camera, the white dog exits... Then on we walk, looking at the pretty old buildings, interspersed with excavations. A turn takes us to a walking street lined with tables under huge umbrellas with steam being blown onto the seating area. A dog is making the most of this and doesn't give up his place as we walk by. It's just too hot

We find a pharmacy where Oswaldo has to park me on the street - it's simply impossible to get the wheelchair inside - and I get to watch the movement, while he does our shopping

On our way back we stop to share a really huge bowl of icecream and sliced fruit, and then, almost home, we find a store which sells the perfect skirt for me. Elastic waist, calf-length and dark blue (in preparation for handling stairs on my butt). I originally traveled with only trousers and tops, which don't work in my current situation, but also I am fascinated by the perfect summerclothes sold here. Why don't we have those in Rio, Fortaleza, and so on? I see brightly colored, loose linen dresses, etc. that looks so comfortable and chic, not frumpy. Perhaps something to think about.

Back in the room we just want to chill and we chat and read and much later supper on an amazing fresh soft goat cheese, tiny green grapes,  and a bottle of tart red wine.