Wandering the City Trails E-Book

Z.J. Galos

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 144

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In Book I, the Viennese walking trails formed the background with reflections about scenes in South Africa, the poet's former temporary home. In this second volume, Wandering the City Trails - Pilgrimage and Rebirth, reports about impressions of familiar trails along the city of Athens with its sites of antiquity as its background, reflecting about changes since twenty years, while searching for the resting place of his muse and beloved, a city where the idea of democracy had been first probed, where philosophical schools influenced society, and laid the foundation stones for western societies. But foremost, the poet's love for for the arts, as he felt their magical beauty touching him just like the first time he experienced it. The shining highlights of sculptural and architectural achievements of the Classical period featured on the Acropolis of Athens and in the Acropolis Museum nearby, where its top floor, constructed in sync with the Parthenon temple, a masterpiece of fusing art as a 3D model keeping exact dimensions of the original one can view at the same time on the 'Sacred Rock'. This great idea by Bernard Tschumi and Associate Architect Michael Photiadis resulted in a first time of pulling the actual size of the Parthenon Frieze into a museum that confronts the real viewing experience of superb relief sculptures of the great temple on the rock, in full view from the museum's top floor. A place of inspiration and reflection in one of the world's greatest museums. The poet visited various sites of antiquity that he had visited before, when his muse shared this experience with him.

Leseprobe

Pilgrimage is a powerful metaphor for any journey with the purpose of finding something that matters deeply to the traveller.

Phil Cousineau

Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,

And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;

Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,

But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage.

William Shakespeare

Everything touches everything.

Jorge Luis Borges

Acropolis of Athens. Parthenon East Façade Detail

Wandering along known paths of Athens

Pilgrimage and Rebirth

Epilogue.

I have been accommodated in a single-roomed apartment, which I call a bedsitter, in the suburb of Kynosargous in Athens, sometimes known as Kinossargous. Translated, it also means where the dog is buried, and I recall in my early teens the saying in German, ‘wo der Hund begraben ist’.

Perhaps, as the phrase is related to mythology when Herakles was banned from the centre of Athens because he was considered a bastard and had his gymnasium in Kynosargous, perhaps ‘the dog buried’ is related to his ancestry and the facts about his parents.

Herakles was my childhood hero. My aunt, my mother’s sister, had given me a book about Greek heroes of antiquity as a birthday present. This Superman of the antique world fascinated me. He could complete the most challenging tasks that average humans couldn’t achieve. Already as a child in a crib, he killed with his bare hands two snakes sent by Zeus’ jealous spouse Hera, who wished to kill the child of her husband’s extramarital affairs. So, Herakles, fathered by a god and given the gift of superhuman strength, was a half-god but shunned by his fellow citizens of the elite at that time. He was good enough to finish the seven superhuman tasks asked of him by various kings, for which he became famous.

I found my quarters comfortable, even a special place for a couple in love, with a comfortable wide bed for two. However, as a poet who pondered his life, wishing a woman to hold and love, he thought about his past muse and to find her last resting place. As a man, he had been a lover of women, and still, some of his fiery libido he once experienced also being felt at times that he still could transfer his love to his present muse to become happy in love, in love between an elderly couple who appreciated each other, and who have become two pals enjoying each other’s company. Besides, he was a good team player for realizing some projects initiated by his muse, some minor building improvements to her cottage, and various chores connected with stores around the city.

Although I have been back to the city of art and culture and the first democracy, I see it as the cradle of Western culture, not only because of the heritage of great Classical and Hellenistic art that brought forth Roman culture and, through it, European cultural evolution. Above all, however, when you approach the city, you cannot avoid the view of the Acropolis, which will always be in your viewpoint from wherever you approach the town. If you can afford a cab, you could book ahead on the Internet; you’ll travel along poor neighbourhoods and streets filled with many tiny shops and people crowding the streets, cars jam-packed parked on the left and right side, it will need good skills to manoeuvre one’s car along one-way streets whose width couldn’t take two-way traffic.

As you get closer to the centre of town and experience the five hills of Athens, suddenly, you’ll have a first view of the Acropolis. It stands as a symbol not exclusively for art and culture, but one should take the time to read up on the temples of the Parthenon and Erechtheion, the Athena-Nike temple, and the Propylaea. For myself, I see the Parthenon temple first, though the approach my cab driver, Aristos, has taken is to describe to me the five different hills the city is built on and between. It reminds me of the palm of a hand but built on five hills against Rome’s seven. I enjoyed this geography lesson as it refreshed the information I had already read about but had laid to rest. We also talk about the economy and touch on politics, but generally, it does not seem vastly different from the remainder of European countries. However, Greece went through more economic hardship than its northern cousins—the Acropolis at a closer look. From now on, as we drive closer to the city, it’s the welcome I’ve expected. The Acropolis appears on the horizon in its might and beauty as we carry along the main streets of Athens. My mind is already thinking about the following tasks I must do for the first time once the driver drops me off at the destination of my temporary apartment at the Airbnb in Markou Botsari Street. Ok, having retrieved the keys from the drop box outside, when the host gave me the code, I entered the apartment at the mezzanine level. I immediately enjoyed the varying lighting levels and the generous bed. The kitchen was brand new, and I quickly adjusted to my shiny new interior.

I opted for the Metro station Syggrou fix and explored the immediate neighbourhood. After entering the Metro, I planned to visit the Plaka, its oldest street, and some of the antiquity monuments, which would take me back to the familiar trails I used to walk many times before, and where many millions of people, visitors, and tourists had tread on before me. How would I feel to walk familiar trails, paths, and streets after so many years since I’ve visited and lived here? Let’s test my senses, let my feet touch the paved ancient roads, and just let me find my trails by an inner sense that’ll guide me like a satellite guidance system. But this time, I stepped out of the Metro at Syntagma station, bought a six-day visitor’s ticket, and headed back to the Acropoli station. My walk then directed me as if I had been arriving at my second home, noticing the street corners and buildings. I had arrived at a spot that was important to my artistic development. Plaka. The inner city of Athens.

*

Table of Contents

Epilogue.

Start of Text

Thursday, February 08.

A First Walk down Vyronos Street

Friday, February 09.

Musings by the poet at the Agora of Athens on his second day visiting Monastiraki

INTERMEZZO: Recalling memory flashes of Waterfield cottage and its surroundings.

Back to the city of Athens.

SATURDAY 10.02.

SUNDAY 11.02. St. Valentine’s Day.

MONDAY 12 FEBRUARY 2024. ATHENS

Poet’s Fervour

TUESDAY 13 FEBRUARY

WEDNESDAY 14. February

THURSDAY 15.02.2024

KORNEUBURG LANDESKLINIK.

GOODBYE ATHENS

INTERMEZZO Waterfield, Saturday 2024.09.14.

FLIGHT FROM ATHENS TO VIENNA

CAPT’N

Waterfield Cottage, March 21.

The Fall

SEPTEMBER

LOVE & THE CITY

Waterfield September 26

Spot in the Clouds

A Reflection Like a Prayer

Waterfield Friday, December 13.

Love lost and found

Waterfield, Saturday December 14.

About the author

Other books by the author

In English:

In German:

References

Athens Markou Botsari Street

Thursday, February 08.

The cab driver fetched me in the arrival hall, holding a sign with my name. We had to walk a few minutes to where he had parked his car. “I phoned you, but you didn’t answer,” he said quietly. “I haven’t changed my phone from Flight Modus yet,” I replied, checking it. I understood that he couldn’t drive his cab to the front of the arrival hall due to his contract conditions. I didn’t mind, as I haven’t paid for that privilege. While he drove me toward Athens, he refreshed my geographical knowledge, naming me the hills of Athens. We travelled through the poorer suburbs, he pointed out to me, and finally, we arrived at my destination. I noticed that I had aged, as I didn’t notice immediately the correct entrance to my lodgings. However, after calling the landlady, I found the grey key box near the entrance door. The given code opened the box, and I could retrieve the keys to the apartment on the ground floor.

My first impression: An entrance area in off-white colours, with a massive poster of two white galloping horses covering the two wardrobe doors. White-grey porcelain tiles were placed on the floors. To the left was a kitchenette with an electric stove, sink, washing machine, and floor cupboards, with hung wall cupboards above. Two high cupboards at the end had red lacquered doors, and a free-standing fridge had carmine red doors—a skillful modern interior with a balance of laminates contrasting in white, grey, and cherry reds. At the corner from the anteroom/ wardrobe area is a small round table with a white top, wooden legs, and two matching polyurethane shell chairs. The double bed had a comfortable mattress, white linen, and a dark grey acrylic cover that had been just right for the cool nights. Besides, the air could be warmed by a wall unit, ventilating, cooling, and heating. A double full-height openable glazed door unit behind outdoor Venetian blinds could be used for natural ventilation during warm days. Dark grey curtains could be drawn across the double window units for additional comfort. The flat TV screen had been fixed on the wall opposite the double bed. The well-appointed mini apartment became a modern shell, quite comfortable and compact for a short stay.

Having settled into the chic, modern furnished apartment with pleasing furniture colours, I took my Zeger, locked the door, and walked to the nearby Metro station. I immediately bought a reduced tourist ticket for six days at Syntagma station and had a ride back to Acropoli station.

A First Walk down Vyronos Street

When I emerged on my first day at noon from the Acropoli station, the sense of air and the city noises caught up with my senses that were still reflecting the aftermath of a fine flight from Vienna, the pleasant drive with Aristos, the cab driver from the Taxi Wind Company, which I have booked eight weeks ahead. Crossing over Dionysos Areopagitou into Vyronos Street, I noticed the Vyronos Hotel, where I had lodged together with my spouse on the top floor, which a friend had reserved us inclusive of a sun-flooded balcony, where one had a full view of the north-eastern part of the Acropolis below a cloudless blue sky. My spouse enjoyed sun tanning while I was doing research at the Public Library.

Further, on the left side, I noticed Demeter, a shop that sells excellent handicraft copies of antiquities as worthwhile souvenirs. Perhaps the man inside the shop must be Giannis, who sold me a handcrafted ceramic box ten years ago. The lid had as a theme kalos eros—the beautiful Eros—painted on it. I have to come back later and talk to him. Further, on the terrace of Lysikratous, at the Café Diogenis, adjacent to the Lysikratous monument, where I used to meet my artist friends and Athina, I took Sellei road opposite Daphne’s restaurant to Thespidos, realizing familiar souvenir shops and Brettos, the colourful lit bar.

Babis’s ice cream shop is in central Plaka on Kidathineon Street, at 10:00 a.m., a parlour in the existing spot since I came to Athens 24 years ago for the first time. His new assistant, Anna, a fine woman, I bought a yoghurt ice cream from. Babis wasn’t in his shop. “Perhaps tomorrow,” Anna said. Like many Greeks, Babis joined the adventurers seeking their fortune in the USA to earn a living and acquire capital to open his ice cream shop on his return. His American wife accompanied him and helped him prepare sandwiches in his shop. They made a good team. Babis was talkative and consistently reported on the things that happened most during my absence, and he brought me up to speed on the salient features of his life and local politics.

Around the corner towards the Filom. Eterias Square, the former Café, had been taken over by a new owner who had a crew of renovators working. Just a few metres further, the cafés had changed. The outside sitting area had been glazed with a new roof, providing a contemporary look. The smoked glass attracted tourists looking for a modern restaurant. I missed the old, familiar Island-style atmosphere. I continued down the square and passed the restaurant where my spouse and I had a lobster dinner on our first visit to Athens. A slick waiter who spoke to us as we passed had recommended it and talked us into it. Unfortunately, we both became ill after the meal. I should have never given in to a highly praised seafood specialty. Seafood poisoning is an unpleasant event. Years later, when Athina and her family invited us to this restaurant, as I had told her about our misfortune, she asked the waiter who had talked us into the seafood meal to speak to the owner. The waiter disappeared after he realized my angry looks. She explained to the owner that our bad meal here was making us ill on our first visit to his place. The owner apologized and gave us a special Greek dessert on the house. It still reminded me of the days when I travelled with my spouse. This time, I had taken leave from home and friends. I wished to experience the city compared to my first visit when I had the assistance of Athina, who took me to the north-eastern slope of the Acropolis, the National Archaeological Museum, and an excursion to Delphi, and the temple of Poseidon at Cap Sounion. Although twenty years back, it seemed to have happened only recently, I pondered as I walked the ancient roads and mingled with the crowds, who were not as overpowering a mass as in the summer months.

Athens Panagia Kapnikarea

Yet, as there are no longer tourist seasons, I’m still gladly travelling in the first week of February, when the climate is mild and favourable for walking about the city’s trails and streets where most people venture. Tourists prefer direct routes to visit the sites of antiquity. However, changing my routes slightly with some side streets in the same direction renders empty streets away from the trodden path of mass tourism, like Adrianou Street, the main street in Plaka and the oldest street in Athens. Then, right into Kekropos Street and Thoukididou corner Imperidou and Vouilis Street, passed Elektra Metropolis Athens into Mitropoleos Street, crossing Filellinon Street to Syntagma Square. I buy a padded envelope at the post office and walk along Filellinon Street to the end of the northwest area of Syntagma Square. Using my six-day ticket, I travel back and forth between the Airbnb and the city. As I emerge at the Metro station Syggrou Fix, I cross Leoforos, Andrea Syggrou, and Kallirois into Markou Botsari Street off Despos Sechou Street, where I enter my Airbnb and relax. Along Kallirois at a small grocery shop, I bought a box of Tourokopita pastry and warmed it in the oven. Delicious. I have to use the time switch for the shower for hot water and enjoy the shower. I dry off and put on my easy gear, eat the warmed-up food, and continue with my notes. Reading a bit, I doze off in the generous bed to the music on Kosmos TV. I wake up and dress to continue my walk through the city.

It was my first trip from Kynosargous to the city, only two subway stops from Syggrou Fix, a short walk from my accommodation, which I had good luck finding on the Internet. I continued on foot from the Syntagma station, emerging from the subway and crossing Syntagma Square on a slight downslope, paved with stone slabs forming a pattern, towards Ermou Street, lying on an axis, renovated for the Olympic Games in 2014. Well-appointed stores for fashion and luxury department stores line this impressive mall; towards its middle, one sees the Panagia Kapnikarea, one of the oldest Byzantine churches of Athens, well positioned at Ermou Street’s axis, with the streets around shaping the Plateía Kapnikarea, the Square, where once a temple stood for honouring the goddess, Athena. On those bases, the Byzantine church was built in the 12th century. I followed the familiar street connecting Syntagma Square with Monastiraki Square. I walked around Panagia Kapnikarea admiring its architecture and recalled having lit a candle on my last visit to Ana-Anetha.

I continued on Kapnikarea Street and passed the Hotel Acropolis, where I stayed with my spouse during our first visit to Athens, toward Adrianou Street. I passed Agora Square and turned left onto Adrianou Street. The street, which hasn’t been changed since antiquity, is known for its souvenirs, fashion, and jewellery shops. I noticed a shop for upmarket watches that had not changed its position in twenty years. But this time, although I felt familiar vibes, the scene offered me a different perspective from the days I had been for the first time in Athens, meeting a muse. The ebb and flow of time had polished the memory of my muse to become a perfectly smooth pebble on the beach of Monemvassia.

Athens Kapnikareas Street with a view of the Acropolis

Still, my perspective on the art and the places of antiquity had increased in the splendour of their appearance. My feet followed a radar of awareness of memory to reach the Plaka’s heart along Kidathineion Street.