Reflections of IOS | SOI fo snoitcelfeR

aegean, airlines, athens, beaches, greece, mykonos, santorini, travel in Greece

Starring the long and odd swimming pool at Erego Beach Club!

pool

…and a statue that features a partial likeness of the island’s homegrown poet, Homer!

not_homer_ag

…and water that looks like this!

manganari_ag

so without further a-blue,

pop

have yourself a read. And yeah, it might take a little while…what did you think this was, some kind of party?

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Okay Lindsay Lohan, You Can Go Home. Now.

aegean, annoyances, athens, beaches, europe, lindsay lohan, mykonos, overrated pseudo-clubs, pop, santorini, scandal, spoiled brats, travel in Greece

Editor’s note: this overdue rant putting little Lindsay in her place, wherever that is, was originally meant for television, but the Internet lasts longer, and requires less make-up.

Forget about the rumors of cocaine and drugs (ok so, where I went to high school we didn’t really think of coke as a drug, but that’s life in what was to become Kardashian country, Calabasas), or the fact that Oprah probably isn’t on speed dial anymore.

When you grow up in Southern California you get used to seeing spoiled brats, often blond, who will never know an honest day’s work in their life, read a few lines from an awful script and then end up hosting SNL, diving into a pool of their own vomit on a roofdeck hotel bar on Sunset Boulevard or possibly both. In any case, you’re in it, you’ve seen it, you’re not impressed.

So when the President of the United States of America, Donald J. Trump, calls an irritating, flake news website like Buzzfeed “a piece of garbage” you have to think he has sh*t like this in mind: buzz1

First of all, that isn’t dancing (and that’s not really DJ’ing either. I’ve been to Ibiza, folks).  It’s a few carefully scripted moves designed to be posted on Instagram and then picked up and picked over by pieces of Internet “garbage” like Buzzfeed. Also, I thought I heard some DJ fake-screaming “this is how you party in Mykonos!!” Friends, this is not how you party in Mykonos. And by the way Lindsay, I think Bea Arthur called, and she wants the evening gown she wore to the 1973 Emmy Awards back. (If you like, I can point you to some great Greek fashion boutiques. They’re not in Mykonos.)

Now check this out this gem:

linds4

 

Totally serious? Wow. Because if you take your measure of Greek island street cred by judging footwear, then you know as much about Greek islands as Pope Francis (miserando atque eligendo!) does about heterosexual sex. Get out! Now!

Cross-check and verify, was that fash spazz attack for reals?

lind3

Kinda looks that way. #Sad. And then, LO-HAN and behold,  there’s THIS:

lind2

So it’s ok to bag on your underlings’ footwear but then show up for a shoot in a transparent sort of whatever dress? Let me guess, her production company is the same outfit behind Keeping Up With The Kardashians, right? Actually, it is. As Aphrodite just turns away and shrugs…and how about this…would this make you shrug or perhaps formulate some other kind of gesticulation?

lindsay1

Was that Part Two of that whole Lindsay-stands-by-Harvey-Weinstein thing? Oy vey as Pope Francis might say, if he were Jewish. Speaking of Jews, Tiffany Trump!! Did you see the one about the night Tiffany Trump (who may or may not be able to spell the word Jew, even if she isn’t one) partied with Lindsay one languorous summer night at her “beach club” on the wind-swept ATM on crack that is Mykonos? If you believe that stomping ground of great journalism, E Online, the party was “a fundraiser for the victims of the Greek wildfires.” Sure. For another digital disaster, it was a fundraiser to “prevent wildfires” in Greece. Right. You can be sure the Greek treasury was just bursting at the seams following a night of charitable debauchery starring Lindsay Lohan and Our Girl Trump. They probably had more euros than they knew what to do with! Wow!

Lindsay Lohan doesn’t have to fight for the right to party. If anyone can put up with Hollywood for more than a year without pulling out their hair extensions, more power to them. But did you know that the best parties in the Greek islands aren’t on little Mykonos? The place is a money pit, and strictly Micky-mouse. The basic rule of Mediterranean indulgence is if Saudi “princes” are in tow, honeybun you’re on the wrong rock. I mean, check out this one:

PathosClubIos

And I’m not even going to tell you where it is, because I don’t have a club to promote. Some of us have to focus on our acting.

–Antoine de GRANT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ATHENS 5:34AM AND THE ISLAND OF I.

aegean, athens, beaches, greece, Uncategorized

Things you notice in Athens at 5:34 in the morning on a semi-random Tuesday in August. Or maybe Wednesday.

(probably a hot day, anyway…)

I smell bread.

I see a seagull.

That car is going way too fast.

Does a motorcycle really need to make so much noise?

Who still jogs?

A policeman slathering on suntan lotion rather languorously.

It’s too early to contemplate the use of the word languorous.

The Algerian Embassy is across the street from a hotel-by-the-hour. There must be a Greek word for a hotel where you pay by the hour. It probably sounds nicer in Greek. Only rarely do these hotels turn up on Booking.com. Not that I looked.

(Greek hour hotels look positively intriguing next to the ones you used to find in lower Manhattan before the hedge fund managers took over.)

Evzones in the zone, zone, zone. No tourists monkeying around with them at this hour.

Roosters are crowing (is that what they do?) in the National Garden. This is normal?

Six green parrots flying over the garden treetops, a trace of sun lights up their wings. Whose birds are these? Also, I want one.

I don’t care how spiffy you look at the bus stop mr Athenian Lawyer, your overdose of aftershave is my next sneeze, and man I’m out of Kleenex

That is the Temple of Hephaestus up there, but I am on a metro car down here. There must be a church somewhere too, because a passenger makes the sign of the cross, but we are straddling the Agora, seems to me what it represents commands more veneration than organized religion.

I command more caffeine. No one is listening, so

…the clapping shut of the metro compartment doors gets louder in function of the frappes one has not had time to sip.

It is not yet even  7am. Someone has just approached me with a friendly What’s up dude?

Do I have ‘California native’ written across my forehead? Then I need a bigger hat.

Man, I say without saying, I don’t care if you’re Kim Kardashian or Jesus Christ, do not approach with me with anything before 7am, unless of course it’s a free guest pass to the Lohan Beach House in Mykonos.

“Hey dude” I muster. Can I go pretend to go back to sleep now? Because I just realized I haven’t really slept for about the past five weeks. Athens and sleep mix like Greeks and Turks at a costume ball: uneasily and at random.

So, I will be looking for a ferry going to an island that begins with the letter I.

I will stumble toward the boat, so hot, so exhausted and my eyes are already tearing because though it is still just slightly after dawn, the sun is already way up and the air is a toxic metropolitan poison, let’s admit it. Smoke, fumes, yuck. The gods must be smoking, and I’m the fucking ash tray.

Gate E9, is it?  Piraeus. Piraeus, my Piraeus, the mighty port and my unknowable ancient brother, who I embrace even though she only ever embraces the sea, filakia, filakia…sea kisses etc. and suddenly the philosophical/daydream part of the journey ends:

“Ticket please.”

(the ticket is given)

“This is not your boat.”

(this is not my day?)

me: “This ship is not going to the island of I.?”’

“To Mykonos, Mykonos! You boat, over there!”

(U-boat? now I’m really in trouble..)

It is now 6:55AM, and I am still not up, but I am inching out of Athens. And I am counting on Seajets to carry me the rest of the way.

So take care Piraeus! I’m going to take a few more heavy steps, as necessary, in this Hephaestean heat, this anti-caress, because I’m going to see V. on the Island of I.

(even if it takes a submarine)

(even if it is, and goodbye to the secret, this island)

PathosClubIos

Special thanks to Seajets.

 

6 WAYS TO BEAT AN ATHENIAN HEATWAVE

aegean, athens, grecotel, greece, jennifer aniston, mykonos, santorini, travel in Greece

 

September in Athens can be toasty indeed, I am rapidly finding out. Every day I start with a mental checklist of things I want to do: the Gaultier exhibit at the Benaki, the store in Kolonaki that sells the spoon sweets, the hike behind Lycabettus…then I have my first espresso freddo from Coffee Island, then the second (with extra ice) then the sun starts displaying its teeth and in a matter of minutes my list shrinks as I go from can-do to torpor beyond repair. But it’s precisely having been brought to that lazy place that let me identify a few fool-proof and mostly cost-effective ways to throw some serious shade at the monolithic heatwave that is your basic September in the Greek capital. Can’t be bothered? I know, it’s hot out. But stick with me…

1. Make a beeline for the nearest museum. And then slow down.

While there may be a deficit of cooling breezes in Athens even in late summer, there is no shortage of cultural refreshment. The hot days are a perfect opportunity to recalibrate and instead of rushing through the centuries with the velocity of a metro train racing from station to station, slowing your pace. Whether you’re at the Acropolis Museum or the Benaki or another, It’s a great way to spend time focusing on a few objects at a time instead of trying to take everything in at once (what are those hoplites smiling about? wait—is it a smile?) and to indulge in the aircon. Plus the heat is a perfect excuse to check out some of Athens’ fantastic museum cafés.

hopliteB

2. Ride the bus to Limanakia.

Mykonos is great, but you can’t get there by bus. But hop on the 122 from Elliniko metro station and don’t get off until you hear “Limanakia A”. There are lots of little coves starting at about Vouliagmeni, but only at Limanakia (Greek for “little port”) will you find a spot that blends city beach energy with island getaway atmosphere. But you go there less for the vibe than the water which is a clear and shimmering emerald-blue. Remember, there’s no sand here: you just walk down some rough steps, maybe grab a drink at the lone beach bar, and dive right in. Warning: the bus ride is long, crowded and bumpy and making friends along the way is not assured, but once you get there you’re going to love it.

image2-Limanakia.png

3. Drink this lemonade.

There’s nothing like a cold frappé to start the day, but when I see Greeks clinging to their caffeine under the hot afternoon sun it makes me wonder if they have overlooked the awesomeness of the Hellenic lemon. And not all are created equal: there is something about the lemons squeezed into the Chios Fruits lemonade that will literally knock your socks off (but hopefully you are already wearing sandals by now). Because I had not tasted lemonade this completely fantastic since going to the county fair as a kid, I had to ask Yiannis Trantalis, the juice co.’s Chief Commercial Officer, what makes it so good. “We carefully select all of our citrus crop,” he told me, “paying special attention not to receive any rotten or non A-class fruits. We do all the squeezing ourselves, using the lemons’ own essential oil and pulp.” They also pasteurize the lemonade just once, “to keep it as fresh as possible.” If you can find this lemonade at a kiosk near you, and manage to get your hands on some ice cubes, you will have the answer to an Athenian heat wave in a glass.

image3-lemonade

4. Cut your hair off.

If the trip to Limanakia and the pitcher of Chios Fruits Lemonade has still not managed to keep the sweat from your brow, follow suggestion number four and cut your hair off. Okay, not all of it (although it’s certainly an option), but have you noticed all the fantastic vintage barber shops in Athens? The sun is so bright it can be easy to overlook them, but trust me they’re there and Athens could right the book on impeccable grooming. In fact it’s hard to recommend just one, but I’d say make an appointment at Aki Pierro Barber & Shop on Solonos St. Heck, I haven’t even had my hair cut there yet but I’ve visited and can tell you the guys leaving the shop look ready to walk onto a movie set. Cool stuff.

akipierro2-1

5. Party all night and sleep all day.

It was almost 9:30 the other night and was getting testy (via text, of course) with Panagiotis for making me wait to go out to dinner. “It’s still early,” he wrote. However, I have realized that if you shed the Anglo-Saxon skin a bit and start having dinner later, then go for drinks say, in Gazi later than that, you can easily transform yourself from a diurnal being dodging the bright sunlight into a creature of the night. It may not work every day of the week, but if you can live by the night two or three days a week in the hot season, you’ll feel better in the morning. Because you’ll be sleeping through it.

6. Book this room.

Finally, if your air conditioner broke or you just can’t be bothered to schlep to the beach, check into the Presidential Suite at the King George Hotel. Because there’s nothing like a view of the sun-drenched Acropolis from the comfort of your own private swimming pool. And I checked—it was booked this week, but there’s always next, and guess what? If it’s September, it’s probably gonna be hot.

Penthouse Suite Private Pool Day view