Monday 29th. Kali Anastasi
After the briefest stretch around Athens’ ancient ruins, we take the delightfully modernised metro train to Pireus. The modernisation, and perhaps the Olympic funds, reached their furthest limit at the point that the escalator lets you and your baggage down on the portside of the Pireus harbour road. There you step back into the authentic Greece that never sported the party decorations of 2006.
As if to declare the unchanging national soul of the people and their traditions, the ferry boat ticket salesman wishes Mary, ‘Kali Anastasi’. Literally, he wished her a ‘Good resurrection’ and though a good translator would probably render the intention as, ‘Happy Holidays’ I prefer and choose to believe that it was meant literally, and spoken, literally speaking, in good faith.
I make two attempts to connect to the modern world we have left behind and both are denied by lack of aptitude and motivation. On the mainland we install a data SIM that does not work, and on the island everything is closed from Monday lunchtime.
So, now we are in isolation from the world of uninterrupted chatter and acquisition. For some, this might be a chance to reconnect with God and the mystery of resurrection. For anyone it must be chance to reconnect with oneself and the mystery of silence.
After some busying around the house to settle in, we have had a glorious and simple meal, and the silence kicks in. As I write on the balcony I can hear and locate the distance and direction of three owls, a conversation, one barking dog, and a baby. The coming Easter weekend may become busy but tonight the village is mostly dark, and in the coming night, complete quiet.