Flying to Athens is a wonderful thing. Once the grey clouds of Brussels have gone you”™ll see the Alps, the Croatian coast and the rocky surface of Albania. The Greek captain clearly enjoys flying over his home-country. He makes a 380-degree turn and lands safely in the nearly deserted airport.

When I enquire on taxi-fees somebody tells me “œJust take the metro, things have changed now in Athens.” I agree and nodd as if I have been here before. But the metro is on strike, and not only the metro.

Everywhere is dirt. Garbage piles out of the streets, and riot police is present on the streets to keep the passionate Greeks from fighting the government, or each-other. The underground was on strike. So was first the bus-network, radiostations and electricity-companies. Whole area”™s were on total black-out.

The Greeks are so passionate about their pension-system that they are willing to put a hold to the whole country for it. I don”™t think there will still be a pension-system by the time I”™ll need it, so I worry about how my “˜frappe”™, the cold coffee-cream served with sugar, milk and ice. When Vaggelis leaves to find a new car, he tells: “œYour type of frappe goes with milk and medium sugar ““ don”™t forget.”

Due to the stunning beauty of passing girls our in-car conversations mostly turn to sex. – “œWell, the Greeks invented it, you know…” ““ Pretty girls in small red cars pass us by and lay their black-haired dark eyed looks in a split-second upon you. That, and the good bars together with some ancient history makes up well for what might be the worlds ugliest capital.