1241 days ago
Though he boasts of his East End heritage, my friend Lucian sometimes says, in his very posh English accent, that he is Scottish as his family has some estates up there funded, one suspects, from the slum housing they once owned in the West Ham heartlands. Lucian is about as Scottish as Rod Stewart or the late Duke of Edinburgh. But tonight he will be filming with a German TV crew in Glasgow.
1246 days ago
3259 days ago
My sleep patterns disrupted by a late night screening of Star Wars and ealy morning writing to accomodate the travel arrangements of pizza Hardman Darren Atwater, I have only just woken up. The Mrs is out at a party with some Krauts and so I engage in a few reflections on a changing world and how that affects work and investment decisions. Malcolm Stacey is the cue...
3713 days ago
I had planned to stay sober until my return but I fear that I have been led astray. I blame OTE Telecom. I still cannot get on the interwebby at The Greek Hovel so spent all Sunday working from the Kouronis taverna in Kambos, run by lovely Eleni. At about 10 O’clock Greek Time I was done writing and asked for my bill. But instead I was summoned to the bar and asked to sit with four men.
Either side of me were two Gentlemen who spoke English. The younger (George) was a relative newcomer to the area, the elder (Nikos) is a greying stocky man with a walrus moustache. It was he who had cross words with me on my second day here when I supported the Krauts rather than the Argies in the football. Since then we have exchanged nothing but pleasantries. Behind Nikos was the man in the pink polo shirt (Vangelis) and behind George was another George, a Greek only speaking builder.
I was told “it is not will you have a drink but what are you drinking”. They were on the hard stuff and so I opted for ouzo. Nikos told me that they had decided they needed to know me better as I was now their neighbour.
They refused to let me pay and four hours later I was rather the worse for wear. Nikos was concerned about me biking home. He offered to drive me several times but since he was also a tad unsteady on his feet I declined
3783 days ago
I snuck out last night to watch the World Cup. The longer it lasted the more I could put off driving back along the long and windy road in the dark to the Greek Hovel. And even worse, to getting out of the car, walking ten yards through the grass to the Greek Hovel wondering what wildlife was lurking in the grass or inside the hovel. As it happens it was a wildlife free experience. Even Mr Rat seems to have “taken his medicine” and disappeared.
The taverna was packed and it soon became clear that I was the only person not supporting the Argies. As the Argies “scored” the taverna rose as one. As the linesman raised his flag for offside one fist punched the air. It was then that the dirty looks started.
How I wished I spoke Greek and could have explained that I too loathe the krauts but that the Argies are for Falkland’s related reasons even worse. But I spoke no Greek and so the loud cheers and increasingly timid punches from me continued. And then the Belgrano moment…The Argies sunk by a sub. The Taverna was not happy. I was rather hoping that it would go to penalties so postponing my encounter with wildlife diversity back at the hovel but on balance was delighted.
Watching Germans celebrate and Angela Merkel smile and clap with joy caused me no great pleasure but
3784 days ago
I have no internet at The Greek Hovel. And I am damned if I will drive back there in the dark from the local taverna along the long and winding road. And so I must miss the Germany vs Argentina World Cup Final. Shucks. Do I care who wins?
No. I’d like both teams to lose. The Argies are a conceited and dirty side and have not worked out that the Falklands are not called the Malvinas. As for the Krauts? They are also arrogant. There is the little matter of two contests at their National Sport during the last Century and a German win will undoubtedly see the Evil Empire claiming that “The World Cup has been won by the EU”. So I’d like both sides to lose.
Accepting that this cannot happen, I conclude that the Argies really are dirty cheats. And our contest with them at the National Sport of Germany was more recent than our bouts with the Hun. And so thinking of the Falklands if I care at all I rather hope that the Krauts scrape a win.
