$67.54 β booked two weeks before arrival.
The sort of price at which Hyatt usually pretends you’ve come to the wrong hotel.
Arrived at 12:00.
While they were prodding at the computer, it emerged, quite by accident, that a Globalist had arrived.
The temperature at reception rose by two degrees. Voices softened. Eyes became more human.
Upgrade to a corner suite confirmed. The room was still occupied. They suggested I wait in the lounge.
I tramped 20+ km around the city.
Athens is a city with a great dramatic past and a thoroughly wrung-out present.
The tragedy here isn’t on the stage β it’s out on the streets.
I didn’t see a single happy face.
Or a relaxed one, either.
Everyone looks as though they’ve just been told there won’t be a pension. A bit like home, then, only sunnier.
Back to the hotel.
The only place in Athens where the girls on reception smile with the last of their strength.
If this post gets 20 likes, I’ll write the second episode.
About the night-time bloodbath in an Athens suite.
Spoiler: not everyone survived πͺ¦
