Instead, and without exception, each confronted a singularly drab piece of scrubland. Porch, patio, upstairs veranda, all faced the same way and that way was inland.
See a Problem?
The builder was sent for. Why, oh, why had the house turned its back on the view its owner coveted? The builder shrugged. A refusal to follow approved or orthodox procedure was, I soon came to understand, commonplace, and could be infuriating. But it was the price to be paid for something I grew to love: a deep-rooted sense that individual lives are of paramount importance and not to be held to account by, let alone made the victim of, some god almighty officialdom. When I arrived in Athens in August I left behind me a nation that was growing increasingly cowed by such officialdom.
They were striking for the right to work. They were striking on behalf of what was still called the Dignity of Labour.
And they were opposed by a set of men, and a woman, for whom such dignity meant less than nothing. Nor were they alone.
By something pretty horrible had begun to infect public life in Britain. You could smell its presence in the very language used by politicians, by business executives, by educational administrators. It was the language of sadism masquerading as masochism. It was about pain. Down with isomorphs, away with endomorphs, from now on the world was to be made safe for mesomorphs. Note the washboard stomach, the packed pectorals. This was a shirt whose collar and cuffs were white, although the body of the shirt came in gamey reds, blues, or greens. Answer: the kind of prat perfectly happy to sack a few hundred men before settling down to a fruit juice and a slice of rye bread unbuttered.
I do remember, however, asking myself how many men it took to give you a piece of bread. One to cut the bread, one to put the slices into a basket, and one to bring the basket to your table. A shirt would have got rid of them without delay. Nor, as far as I could see, did it operate anywhere in Greece, not successfully, anyway.
A change of skies indeed. And a change of soul? The pages that follow may provide an answer to that question.
92 Acharnon Street by John Lucas (ebook)
It is near where I myself live, and I may say that it will do very well. When the line cleared George wanted to know what had happened. We said our goodbyes, and feeling mightily relieved at the prospect of a roof over my head for when I got to Athens, I put the phone down. Three months earlier I had received, quite unexpectedly, a letter from the University of Athens, inviting me to spend a year there as Visiting Professor. Lord Byron Visiting Professor of English Literature was, I think, the full title, and as I was to discover, the glory was all in that title.
I was both flattered and excited. Yes, they would.
92 Acharnon Street: A Year in Athens
No administration was involved, I was assured, and I would only be required to teach one course. Well, no. Professor R, head of English Studies, explained that he had a full complement of staff to teach the nineteenth century. And would I please send details about my date of birth, education, including degrees, major publications, academic career? Professor R would then at once complete the paperwork that would enable me to be put on the payroll as soon as I arrived in Athens. He closed by asking whether he could be of assistance in finding me suitable accommodation.
Intrigued, but far from certain I was the right person to oversee such work, I suggested that he might like to come to Loughborough to discuss his proposal. And so, on a hot day in June , George and I met for the first time. For one thing, it had more bones than he was used to, as an experimental mouthful made plain. And which pieces of cutlery were you supposed to use?
Veblen was right.
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Also my pictures collected throughout the years are used in this guide to show you where exactly they I love presents and gifts of any kind but there is no better way to make me happy than buying me a book. My friends are well aware of it and sometimes they send me amazing books that I am delighted about. It basically gathers 50 small islands from all over the world with map, I have just finished reading the Rough Guide on RTW trip and I think this is a very interesting book for all who wishes start their journey.
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