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14<br />

Return to Asi Gonia<br />

I went up to Asi Gonia for the last time as summer was Septembering<br />

to a close; the days still hot, but filled with the dusty tatters thrown up<br />

by four months of sun and crumbling earth; the nights longer and<br />

colder.<br />

Leaving Athens was a deliverance, from the endless sweating summer,<br />

the nervous pettiness of overheated people, and my own life,<br />

which was in a mess. Leaning over the ship’s rail in Piraeus 1 watched<br />

the sun wheel its way down through flaming rings of orange and red,<br />

and die in pale green. Scabby rinds of water melon floated in the oily<br />

water. The sailor kissed his girl goodbye, then passed through the<br />

ticket-barrier and talked to her through the enclosure rails. One of the<br />

sad, trivial conversations it must have been – ‘You will write ?’, ‘Don’t<br />

forget to feed the cat’, and so on. The great neon lights of the<br />

capitalists began to wink; METAXAS, the genuine brandy, PAPASTRATOS<br />

cigarettes, TYPALDOS. T<strong>here</strong> was a satisfaction in being alone, leaning<br />

on the rail and dropping dead matches into the narrow gap between<br />

ship and quay, watching the others saying goodbye and the Athenian<br />

night closing in. Because for me it was not a case of leaving a dear<br />

place; rather I was leaving an encampment which held me and my<br />

friends inexplicably, like a drug, and I was breaking the habit and<br />

going home. Yet stirred by memories of other departures I waited idly<br />

for someone to come down to the quayside and say goodbye, to appear<br />

suddenly, at the last minute, behind the crowds of friends and relatives,<br />

waving a silk square in the last of the light.<br />

The boat pulled out.<br />

Everyone, I think, has to some extent these ambivalent feelings<br />

about Athens. The colony of writers, artists and teachers which it has<br />

collected is divided between those who hate it and those who like it<br />

but feel they should be elsew<strong>here</strong>. T<strong>here</strong> are exceptions of course. But<br />

the trouble is that the Athens colony is not a satisfactory one for writers<br />

– for artists I would not know – because the ingredients of life are too<br />

few.<br />

I mean this. The English in Athens fall into several categories. T<strong>here</strong><br />

156

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