Sunday evening and we leave Athens on time. As its BA, this is a plesant suprise. However, Athens is quiet, it’s a public holiday here to tomorrow, and we are in luck as everyone boards promptly. It’s very different when leaving from Heathrow however. Lateness is almost unavoidable it’s so busy.
It's quite an old aircraft, one of those 767s with those rather square, dark blue seats, like something out of Thunderbirds. Upon take-off the whole things rattles and shakes a bit. I always think the engines sound like lawn mowers close up during take-off, but they're Rolls Royce engines, aren't they? So the old seats don't matter, the engines are the best in the world. I could quite happily fly to the moon in a tomato crate, as long as it had Rolls Royce engines and a pilot with that calm reassuring English accent, who could tell me what the weather would be like when I got there (cold and drizzling).
The staff are very friendly. I'm lucky because tonight I’m in business class flying on the Misuse's air miles which makes the cost 25% of a standard economy fare. I guess it’s one advantage to being married to someone who works all over the world. Susan has so many air miles that, if they did flights to Mars, she would qualify for the free return trip. BA concentrates on the Trans-Atlantic routes though so it's not likely any time soon. She is working in Athens for a fortnight, so I have been out there to see her for a few days.
Given all the trouble in Greece, I wondered what it would be like. In a word, it’s bad. Just one small illustration of this was a little taverna we went to for dinner. It was so good, we went back there again a night later. Small and family run, it catered more for locals than tourists and was cheap and very friendly. Yet across both nights there was just one other table occupied. On the second night we were the only couple the whole time we were there. How will this little restaurant survive?
Yet for all its current well broadcast agony, Athens remains a truly remarkable, historic city, home to 5 out of every 7 Greeks. I was surprised at just how big it was. The Acropolis and the truly breath taking Parthenon have been there for nearly 2500 years. It’s a beacon of both their civilisation and power to endure against 25 centuries worth of challenges and invasions from the outside. Without wishing to downplay it’s terrible pain of the moment, Greece will get through this. Over the immense span of its history, it has seen off worse.
Besides, right now major restoration work is taking place on the Parthenon and, for an ancient civilisation that placed so much store in the significance of events, what could be a better omen for its long term.
Somewhere behind me a baby cries, giving audible expression to the random luck of seating. There is a queue outside the toilets and the person on my right is snoring. On my left someone is buried in the pages of the Daily Mail. Clearly he wants to avoid getting home from his holiday in a good mood.
The in-flight entertainment is reaching its conclusion, another of those mildly inoffensive films that has to appeal to everyone, but ends up not really entertaining anyone. There is an announcement over the intercom and the seat belt lights come on to signal bumps ahead.
Just over an hour out from London. Time to finish that last glass of wine before it’s spilt in any turbulence.
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