High life
Water sports
Taki
AAthens s everyone who has visited this hell-hole during the last 15 years or so knows, the `nefos' is the permanent cloud of noxious fumes that hangs over the city for 365 days at a time. Successive govern- ments have come to power promising that they'll do something about it, but the nefos has never looked or felt stronger. This week it got so bad that the government asked people to stay away from the centre of Athens, a request that was complied with immediately by those who own houses in the suburbs and pleasure boats down by the sea. Oh, yes, I almost forgot, those who work for the ruling party also obeyed, leaving the hated capitalist hordes of kiosk owners and small shopkeepers to fend for themselves.
No sooner had the nomenklatura cleared out than the hospitals began to fill with the old and those suffering from respiratory troubles, who I would guess make up the greater part of the Athenian population. It was the same old story of two months ago, except that this disaster was self-induced. Apparently there are machines, paid for by the public, that should have been attached to all public transport buses, as well as to the majority of private cars, but for some strange reason these contraptions have yet to make an appearance in this great metro- polis. 'It's Sam Beckett and Godot once again,' was the way an intellectual friend of mine put it.
While all this was going on, Andreas the First chose to take' a. short little cruise on board the private yacht of the mayor of Vouliagmeni, a certain Mr Kasidokostas. Vouliagmeni is the beachfront suburb of Athens where the rich and powerful used to spend their summers, and where social- ist ministers and their minions do their relaxing nowadays. Mr Kasidokostas used to be the water-ski teacher at Vouliagmeni, until the day he met and taught the daughter of John Latsis, probably the olive republic's richest man, as well as the nouveauest, if it wasn't for the Vardi- noyannis clan.
To say that Latsis was overjoyed when he found out his own flesh and blood was mixing with people from his own social background would be a bit like saying that Biden and Kennedy have nothing in com- mon as far as cheating is concerned, but after a while he gave his blessing and the two proles married in the style neither of them had ever been accustomed to. Alas, it was not to last. Marianna Latsis is a nice girl, homely and plain, but nice. The high life made her less so. Mr Kasidokostas was not a bad fellow, but the sudden high life didn't do anything for his self-esteem, and his personality showed it. He became aggressive and quite rude at times, espe- cially to little old me when I once ran into him in Gstaad and advised him to lean forwards rather than backwards while skiing in a manner he wasn't expected to be accustomed to. The couple are now sepa- rated and a lot of water-Skis are expected to change hands before the divorce is final.
Having given many lessons, Mr Kasido- kostas not only managed to acquire a large yacht, but also ran for mayor and won handsomely. I guess all people like a hard-working fellow to make it, and no one made it quicker than the mayor of Vouliag- meni. Last weekend Andreas the First honoured his enterprising spirit by going on board with his minions and taking a little cruise. The mayor, who was supposed to be showing some hacks around on that day, apologised for his absence, but stated nonetheless that he was proud to cruise with Andreas, and that his hard-earned boat would from that moment on always be at the disposal of the sultan of Greece.
Needless to say, the Andreas- Kasidokostas axis has given Athenian wits a field day, although I'd hate to think what those wags would say if my latest gaffe became public. In brief, last Tuesday evening, while feeling rather drunk and in the company of two inebriated German blondes, I decided to barge in on my old dad and pull his leg a bit. Unfortunately, I barged in on a grand dinner in honour of our Pope and Patriarch, Diodoros of Jeru- salem, second in the hierarchy of the Orthodox church only to the Patriarch of Constantinople. Worse, his holiness spot- ted me immediately and asked for me to come forward, The Germans, too. Now everyone is angry, except his holiness, but how was I to know that my father knew such saintly people?
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