Urban Holiday!

As the saying goes, the best things in life are free. For many of the lusher sensual pleasures of life, you may need a little money. In the '70 's, my parents had this travel guide called "Europe on $5 a Day." In our generous, abundant Greece, this is almost still true.

Years ago, when money flowed with more abandon, we used to go to an island for vacation (magnificent Crete- land of wild goats, rich bronze wine and zesty meaty snails with rosemary and vinegar). We would stay for several weeks. It was very nice. But we didn't know what we were missing: summer in the city is full of pleasures. Our era may be one of resourcefulness, but certainly not of austerity- long shimmering days are filled with one delight after the next. Urban holidays are full of allure. 

The "Therino"-

One of the most fabulous things about summer in the city in Greece- the verdant, blossomed outdoor garden locations of independent movie houses. Deck chairs sink into white gravel, fuschia bougainvillea glow in the darkness from high walls, cicadas sing, and they serve hard liquor in good short glasses at the snack bar. The program is a little broader and richer than we find in the main season- just the right mix of Culture (yes with a capital "C"- Last Year at Marienbad, Pranzo di Ferragosto), classics (The Birds! Charade!), and whatever pleasingly commercial first-run movies we missed in the winter. The breeze is silky, jasmine scented, leaving from occasional cigarettes only the faintest trails of blue smoke and glowing points of light, like fireflies. Tickets are usually 5 Euros at the beginning of the week. From my favorite cinema in Athens, you can see the Parthenon off to the left. But the tiny back balconies with clean laundry hanging from them that surround my favorite Thessaloniki therina have their own charm. (of course they have outdoor cinema on the islands, but in Thessaloniki we have close to a dozen).

"Kafeneia" (Old-man cafes)-

There are two main genres of coffee houses in Greece- "Kafeteria" and "Kafeneia." Kafeterias have modern decor, chic clientelle, elegant service, an exhaustive menu of specialty coffee drinks. Along with all this, they have a slightly amped-up atmosphere. Kafeneia have none of these things. 

In winter, classic Kafeneia have an equally classic Jim Jarmusch circa Stranger Than Paradise- cool vibe of bleakness; in summer though, they have tables in the juicy deep shade of the fabled plane tree. Kafeneia are characterized by several things:

-they are frequented by men over 70 who have come to debate or play backgammon

-they are blindingly bright (that bleakness);

-for watching an important match they are without equal; 

-they are extremely inexpensive; 

-there is almost never any music (and when there is, it's delightfully pre-'70's) 

-best of all- the prime locations seem always to be occupied by one. 

Drink local: by day a Greek coffee or an orangeade of syrupy concentrated sweetened juice and cold water. After siesta, an ouzo meze (a sort of mixed tapas a la Greque)- this is a small glass of cloudy white ouzo on ice (...pastis a la Greque) with a saucer of assorted savory bites- maybe an anchovy, a cucumber spear, an olive, a smear of pink taramosalata. Having one will not interfere with dinner; a second one makes for a satisfying snack and a stiff drink. Beers come in the large-sized bottle. They will bring you a glass, but no one will mind if you don't use it. The rhythmic sound of dice and backgammon tiles is like pebbles in the surf (there is a word for this sound in Greek- "fleisvos".)

(Sub)urban swim:

When I spent summers in Crete, the sea was right outside my door. Now I take 2 buses to the beach on the outskirts of the city- it takes about a fat half an hour. Greek friends make fun of me for swimming in the low rent suburbs. But then I grew up swimming in Brooklyn (the A train to Coney Island), so I'm really in no position to be getting uppity. 

Stillwell Avenue, Coney Island, B'klyn.

It's a proverbial sardine can during the shank of the day; when I return from an early swim I see the tightly packed buses on their way out, and when I go at dusk they are crowded in the other direction. In the opalescent dawn sea with the octogenarians, 

or much later on, completely alone, bathed in the light of an apricot moon and velvet waters of the Aegean, 

The sea by night is flat like glass,
even with a lightning storm in the distance.

it's a slice of postcard-perfect holiday for 1 Euro and 20 cents. 

This brings me to the next pleasure, the day itself.

The Greek Summer double day:

The hypnotic, shimmering heat slices the day like a cleaver into two: a rosy-fingered dawn of solitude (strong bitter coffee, cool tiles under your feet, that early morning swim), and a long social evening, heavy with the perfume of fig trees. Dawn starts at about 5:30- a much less inspiring hour in winter- but even rising at 7:30 offers a taste of it. By the time a slow and lazy lunch draws to a close, having been up for so many hours you can enjoy a fat siesta in a darkened bedroom while the heat pulses outside and the cicadas lull you to sleep. Hopefully you will wake vaguely disoriented, just in time for the evening promenade or a dusk swim, aperitifs, maybe a movie, and that best of Greek pleasures- another long, sociable meal stretching late into the sweet hot night.

Marie Antoinette would be the first to say "yes"
to a moonlight swim and an aperitif.