Chapter Nine

Tired, filthy and desperately hungry, our first priority, get something to eat. The station cafeteria sold sandwiches we bought some and more Milk. Still with cartons of milk in our hands we went to the tourist information desk and asked if they knew of a cheap hotel. The girl behind the desk looked at us with pity. She said she knew a place that would suit us very well, and it was not far from the Station. She gave us a map and highlighted the street corner the hotel could be found. It was all in Greek so we had to count the junctions on the map to find the hotel. Which was when we had found it in a back street, small and dusty. We asked for a room. Despite our pitiful means we had to get a good nights sleep. They had only one room left, on the ground floor, with a single double bed. We took it.
"We’ve got to sleep in the same bed. I must tell you right now I’m not queer."
"Who gives a shit. All I want to do is sleep."
We fell onto the bed and slept.
We woke up several hours later and went to reception. "Can we get a shower here?"
The receptionist bored and scruffy, looked up from his newspaper."Yes. The shower is on the first floor."
So we grabbed our towels and went upstairs to the first floor. The shower room was huge covering almost the entire first floor and tiled floor to ceiling in white tiles. In the corner sat two hippies, one playing guitar and the other flute. They seemed an anachronism in this time of punk music. They had the kaftans, the beads, the long hair and beards, and large floppy hats. The only things missing were the joss sticks and the Joints. Opposite the hippies were the showers, a line of six shower heads above a slightly lowered trough in the floor.
We stripped off and got under the showers. We stood there listening to the music and letting the water wash the dirt of days travel from our bodies.
I had my eyes shut. I washed my hair. I rinsed under the shower and opened my eyes. Two girls had walked into the shower. they were stripping off. Dropping their clothes to the floor they stepped forward. They stood under the shower heads next to us and started washing. Oh my God! They were lovely. perfect bodies and the soap running down them. I turned to the corner as I realised I was having a reaction to this sight. And the two hippies playing music just carried on.
Gary turned to me and said "When in Rome........."
"But we’re in Athens." I joked. "Rome is next week."
There were two lovely girls naked next to us in the shower, but it didn’t matter, they didn’t care so why should we? We certainly didn’t care.
They had perfect breasts. And the soap bubbles running down their bodies just stayed momentarily in their pubic region. No reason to get excited. We are all children of God. Equal in the eyes of the lord. Nothing to be ashamed of. Hell! I was nineteen. I was desperate. Lord give me strength! And the hippies played.
We had a long shower, long enough to stay and admire the scenery. Eventually the girls turned off the water above them and dried their hair. With towels over their heads, we could just relax and watch them. For two desperate nineteen year olds it was a dream come true. We stood there in our reverie, until the girls, seemingly oblivious to our presence wandered off to their room. The hippies didn’t miss a beat.
"Wow!" said Gary eventually, "Athens is a great place to visit."
"It sure is," I said still staring at the now empty doorway. "It sure is."
Now totally refreshed after our sleep and the shower. We left the hotel to satisfy another essential of life. Several long cold beers. After which we strolled up the hill to the Parthenon.
We spotted two couples of aging Americans walking at the top, the men wearing straw hats, Hawaiian shirts, striped shorts, white socks and black shoes.
Gary couldn’t resist it. "Say American huh?"
"Gee. That’s right. You guys from the US of A?"
"No we’re English."
"NO kidding. We were in London England just two weeks ago."
"Small world huh?"
"Say, do you know a guy called Smith?"
"What?"
"He’s an old buddy of mine. You must know him."
"Has he two arms and two legs, eyes above his nose and a mouth below. Yeah I know him."
"Your English humour kills me."
"If only."
We wandered off to annoy some more Americans.
We stayed the night at the hotel having two more showers in the hope of a repeat performance. But the hippies had gone and so had the girls. We hadn’t been this clean for weeks.
The next day we got bored. Itching to travel again.
"Well we’re not going back the way we came." I said. "The only way is forward."
"We’re in Greece there’s nowhere else to go other than back through Yugoslavia. Unless we catch the ferry."
"Can we afford the ferry to Italy? I really don’t want to go back to Yugoslavia."
"Then we catch the ferry." Gary no more wanted to go back to Yugoslavia than I did. We caught the train for Petras. And boarded the Ferry that was going to take us over the Ionian see and into the Adriatic, overnight. No cabin, we booked economy. Foot passengers. The sun was low on the horizon when the Ferry slipped from the harbour. We stood on deck relishing the cool sea breeze and watched Greece disappear in the distance.