My first trip to Greece was winding down. During my 3 or so weeks in Greece I had seen three islands and the major sights on the Peloponnese. I was now headed towards Athens, the largest city in Greece.This wasn’t any normal trip; I was going to meet my Parisian cousin for dinner. A cousin I had never met before but one who had a special kinship with my Dad’s sister. I had spoken with her on the phone about where and when we were going to meet. What I got from the conversation was that we were going to meet at a coffee shop. What I didn’t understand was why she kept mentioning “Ammonia”.
Getting to Athens was no problem. There was a flying dolphin (hydrofoil) that left where I was staying, the little town of Ermioni, every two hours. Meeting her in theory was going to be no problem either. I thought that she was going to meet me at port where the hydrofoils came to call. There was one catch; I was going to Zea (See Zea Cabbies) instead of the main harbor of Athens. Which meant navigation to Athens main harbor, Pireás.
I should have known that this simple meeting was going to turn into a Homerian epic when I fell asleep on the flying dolphin and awoke to some word starting with an “A” and ended with “a” (as in Athena) over the intercom, and seeing many people getting off. Smartly, I asked “Athens!?” and I got an “Ohe” as a response. (No) Good I hadn’t missed my stop. What the island was I didn’t know at the time but I would find out it was latter the island of Aegina,
I got to Zea marina about twenty minutes latter and stumbled out onto the quay. I knew that this was not the main harbor but I didn’t know where the main harbor (Pireás) was. Latter on, during my second trip to Greece, I would finaly get an appreciation for the relationship of Zea, Pireás and Athens. Right now, all I could see was a harbor and several tall buildings. It was a very small harbor with mostly pleasure boats. I wasn’t sure if I was in the right place or not. What really threw me off was a “coffee shop” (to be avoided at all costs). Because my cousin said she would meet me at a coffee shop I thought this may be the place. I looked for someone matching my cousin’s description but did not see any matches. I hung out for a little bit because I thought, “What if she is late” but in about fifteen minutes I realized that this was indeed Zea and not Pireás I still had no idea where Pirasus was. So I asked a cab driver (note always look for maps in guide books, I would have found that I only had about ten blocks to walk) at what price he would charge to go there. His price: 2000 drachmas (Six dollars). I quickly realized when we arrived at the main Pireás harbor, 2 minutes latter; I had been majorly ripped off. I have learned to expect being ripped of by cab drivers out of the Zea Marina.
There were several coffee shops in Pireás So I proceeded to walk around the coffee shops looking for my cousin. I could not find her. It was now 7:00 and we were to meet at 6:00. I walked all around the main harbor of Pireás but I did not see anyone that matched her description in any of the twenty or so coffee shops. I figured she returned to her grandmother’s house so I called there. No answer. I called again. No answer. Around 8:30 I finally got an answer. By this time it had gotten dark and I had begun to investigations places to stay in Pireás. It turns out I was suppose to take the metro to Ommonia square. She had been waiting there for me. So I took a cab ride, through the now darkening city, to Ommonia square. I think I paid about 400 Drachmas (a dollar twenty five) for the fifteen-minute ride. Fortunately, I had not looked at my guide book’s description of the square “…At night a place to be avoid for it has a collection of Druggies, Beggars, Prostitutes, and Albanians.”(Rough Guide 1997) We were going to meet at the McDonalds. Fortunately this was not a square with four different McDonalds. It only had one. However, I still didn’t find her here. So I called. No answer. I called again and got her. The square I was supposed to go to was Singtagma Square.
So I got into another cab and arrived at the much safer Signatagma Square (they only burnt American flags in the square a year later) and met my cousin Emmanuel. It was now 10:30, just in time for dinner, Greek style.
Epilog: I was to meet the same cousin in Paris a couple years latter at a metro stop by my Aunt’s (her mother’s) apartment. One problem, there were three exits. This time it only took us an hour to find each other.
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