2025 - Annus horribilis

 The year 2025 started with plenty of promise for me, dear reader, with lots of material in the pipeline and several posts almost finished and ready for publication. Unfortunately it did not quite work out that way, as my long absence has probably suggested to you.

Those of you who have read my ramblings in the past will know how much I treasure my family and my friends, and how much their support over the last ten years or so has meant to me both psychologically and in practical, everyday terms. Without the support received I would have perished without a doubt, a bit of flotsam in life's ocean, remembered for a while then soon forgotten. But the support has been there, steady and unwavering, and nowhere was it more consequential than when coming from my family, most notably from my sister.

My sister and I, two very different people in personality and interests, were never buddies. Despite deep love and respect, we rarely shared interests and friends; I was always the little brother, the nuisance 'baby' that often caused trouble. But when I really needed it my sister came to my aid, offering me a place to stay and a warm bed in her home; this allowed me to catch my breath and slowly start rebuilding my life to suit my new reality. This on many an occasion was not easy, either for her or me, yet she never wavered in her support.

Two or three years ago life took an unexpected turn, as what appeared to be a painful back for my sister turned out to be cancer, opening a new chapter full of doctors, treatments, hospitals, pain and worry. As she was a formidable character we were optimistic, hoping for the best, and supported her through what appeared to be a successful first skirmish with the disease. This did not last, and early this year she showed worrying signs and eventually ended up being hospitalised; the first signs were good and it looked as if she might soon return home, on the way to recovery once again. I was not to be.

In early July this year my sister passed away in hospital and for the first time in my life I experienced a feeling of despair at her loss. Then came the feelings of emptiness as the reality of her absence hit me, followed by the realisation that my immediate family were no more. The feeling of icy loneliness is with me constantly now, though often tempered through the presence of the rest of the wider family and my many good friends; they provide comfort and inspiration not only to tackle day-to-day survival but to think of the future.

I'm no stranger to bereavement, but this one will take a while to get over. In the meantime I would like to think that telling you about it will free my mind to start writing regularly again...

Summer in Greece

If you like hot (or, occasionally, extremely hot!), dry weather then the Greek summer might be your dream time. If at the same time you like swimming in clear, cool waters it may be time to dust off the credit card and make a reservation on one of the Greek islands or selected mainland spots/resorts. The world seems to be flocking to Greece, discovering Athens and the ancient sites, savouring the culture or bathing in the sea but, especially, savouring the summer.

It is entirely understandable, in my humble opinion,  as the summer in Greece can be nothing short of magical at prices that can be reasonable, even occasionally cheap, though the higher end hotels and resorts can also manage to be eye-wateringly expensive; your aspirations and needs will determine the destination selected and the capacity of your pocket whether it is at all possible. There's something for almost everyone, all interesting, all worth it in their own way.

Sun, sea, culture and relaxation form an enticing package. In Greece this is not a slick, over-produced experience with the exception of a few fashionable destinations. There are places that still feel as if they are just being discovered, where the local colour is, in fact, where the facilities are sometimes less worldly but more authentic than what half a century of intense tourist development can lead to. Plenty of untrodden, or certainly less trodden, paths still await the adventurous and respectful visitor, away from the crowds, the groups, the inebriated.

There is great fun to be had in island hopping, especially off the busiest routes, with ships little and large plying their trade all year round, though with decreasing frequency and less reliability in the quieter times. Spring and autumn, with temperatures at more moderate levels and the sea relatively calm, can be a wonderful time to prance around. Granted, not everywhere is awaiting visitors with open arms and some of the hostelries may either not be open or have limited capacity, but that makes it even more of an adventure. And locals will generally take the right kind of visitor to their hearts, going out of their way to welcome those arriving in peace and with respect.

For the brave driving around Greece can be a fantastic experience also, and I will dedicate another post to that. While traditionally the average Greek driver is high on enthusiasm and low on skill, with observance of the rules of the road a relatively low priority, recent years have brought significant improvements. The road network too is being constantly upgraded, modernised and expanded, often with impressive results, making it easy to explore this enchanting, mountainous oddity of a country.

I adore the Greek summer and all that goes with it - yes, even the intense heat - but it is well worth remembering that it can also be dangerous: from the perils of injudicious sunbathing, which can turn one's body a vivid lobster red colour in a couple of hours, to the very real life threatening dehydration that can come about if wandering around without certain precautions. So approach it respectfully, enjoy it fully but sensibly, immerse yourself in it intelligently and the Greek summer will provide you with more than you can imagine. From mountaintops to secluded beaches and places in between it can be the experience of a lifetime.

Epic wine tasting, and lunch!

 My regular reader knows that wine plays an important role in my life,  and has done so for the last forty-something years. While I may have stumbled upon the wonderful world of wine almost by accident, joining the wine society at my post-graduate University when I suddenly found myself with time to spare, I stayed because I discovered in the world of wine endless fascination, something to be passionate about. And it is, for me, a life-long passion.

The world of wine is populated by many wonderful people who, for the most part, share this passion irrespective of where they fit in; this is the world not only of the professionals working at all levels of the wine trade, but also that of the dedicated amateurs who devote time and money to the appreciation of wine as a fascinating, delicious, interesting, life-enhancing liquid. This is not about drunkards, though some of us may occasionally also drink too much, but about tastes and textures, aromas and colours, and how they intertwine with food of all kinds, both simple and complex, straightforward or elaborate.

The other Saturday one of my friends, who also happens to be a lifelong wine enthusiast, put on a wine tasting at his home in Athens, combining it with lunch, and invited a group of friends of his, wine people all, to enjoy the experience. The theme was interesting wines of the world, excluding France, and the selection was intriguing, beguiling and thought-provoking, a real enthusiast's pot pourri of tastes. The food may have played second fiddle to the wine, but was equally satisfying and a terrific accompaniment to the wine, helping to complete and elevate the palette of taste.

YT hosts events such as this at most once a year, though this was delayed due to health reasons. The more attentive among you will remember that I have written about similar occasions in the past, and also how special they are. Unique in nature, with no commercial motive whatsoever but rather passion as the driver. YT is fortunate that, thanks to a successful commercial career he is able to indulge his passion and we, his friends, are even more fortunate that he is willing to share his passion with us.

The ordeal we faced involved 9 wines and a spirit, all from notable producers, thankfully not served blind as on some previous occasions, as I would have had trouble in identifying some (most?) of them, with age and individuality making most of them striking but not clearly typical. The wines moved between stunning perfection - the first, a riesling from Austria, was just flawless in every way, delicate yet powerful, and set the tone for the afternoon. Our senses were challenged, tantalised, puzzled and rewarded with the wines that followed, then finally bludgeoned to a close with an insanely characterful Jamaican rum from 1945. Should anyone desperately want to know more about them I have detailed tasting notes on all the wines of the day but will not bore you with them unless you so request.

Yet this was not a typical wine tasting with the wines lined up and tasted solely with the benefit of a few crackers or similar; this was a paired lunch, where YT and co. served several dishes to accompany - no, perfectly match - the wines and keep us amused, interested and fed! He may not thank me for revealing this but he is internationally renowned for his matching of food and wine, with his attention to detail being unique and hugely successful. All food prepared and/or served at his home is of the highest order, unpretentious yet supremely delicious - some of the best meals I have eaten in Greece have been there!

All in all this was a very special day, one that the attendees will not forget in a hurry, that most people will never experience in their lifetime. I feel truly blessed, as a passionate wine and food person, to be included.

Little wisdom, plenty of wine, much to discuss...

 Whatever criticism you may have concerning my long absence, dear reader, you would be justified in expressing it, though hopefully in a polite and constructive manner. My excuse is simple: though I have been as opinionated as ever I simply lacked inspiration in expressing said thoughts. Life has been smothering for many reasons, leaving me unable to vocalise all I wanted to say in my normal manner... So I just shut up!

But I'm back, ready, willing and able (I hope!) to keep you informed and entertained once again. There is plenty to observe, discuss and criticise in the world today and, while our opinions on what is taking place may vary, we all have thoughts and expressed or unexpressed observations.

World events have given us plenty of food for thought with, perhaps, the Middle East leading the way. Not only have the horrific events in and around Israel, showing human behaviour at its worst in so many ways, but the recent Syria developments overthrowing decades of tyranny but potentially dragging the country backwards into a theocratic, brutal and unenlightened existence. Further south and to the east in Yemen there is further unrest, directly affecting shipping traffic in the area and thus having an impact on our daily lives wherever in the world we reside.

The main developments that I am concerned about are in the USA, so far away from my European domicile but nevertheless affecting the whole world. The voters there have decided to reelect Donald Trump as President despite his many manifest failings; as the comeback kid he seems intent in upsetting not only the way the political system has operated in the USA since its creation, but also the current world order, established alliances etc. Nothing in his past performances leaves us confident that he actually has a solid understanding of how anything works and that he has well thought-out plans on how to bring about real, positive change anywhere. While the US is potentially the main beneficiary of his benevolence and creativity, the rest of the world will also be affected to a lesser or greater degree.

Russia is, of course, also a concern, with President (Dictator in all but name...) Putin seemingly intent on impressing the rest of the world with his country's might both militarily and economically, but achieving decidedly mixed results. It is unclear how he will seek to mitigate his lack of success, but I sincerely hope that as the dead mount up he does not resort to greater aggression. I fail to comprehend how Russia with all its natural resources cannot afford its normal citizens an adequate standard of living, while supplying the world with robber barons living the high life in their mega yachts. President Putin would have cemented his place in history if he had achieved internal balance and happiness rather than pursuing dreams of empire, in my opinion.

The past summer highlighted some of the problems of Global Climate Change, ultimately global warming, which is upsetting the sensitive balances of local microclimates with potentially devastating results. Long droughts, exceptionally heavy rainfall and prolonged periods of very high temperatures have caused problems in many parts of the world but it is the longterm effects that are the most worrying in both local and global terms. Current form suggests that things will only get worse, making me grateful not to be in the first flush of youth.

Still, I'm not quite ready to pop my clogs so you'll have to put up with my musings for some time. Regularly!

National Health Service in Greece

Recently I had opportunity to experience the Greek National Health Service in action in Athens, at the level available to every citizen, and despite some hardship I was mightily impressed. This was somewhat unexpected...

Let me explain: I, like most Greek residents, have found through long experience -yes, I'm getting on a bit now- that most contacts with the state mechanism in whatever form is generally frustrating and unrewarding, ending in disappointment if not anger. Most state employees, secure from dismissal or, sometimes, even evaluation, often show complete indifference to their fellow citizens needs and requests, making life extremely difficult. Loads of bureaucratic procedures exist to keep the general populace in their place and to insulate, empower and protect the bureaucrats; anyone who has had to face the system will have stories, including horror stories, to tell. This leads most everyone to approach the system with apprehension, or even loathing.

Well, on an overseas visit over Christmas (the United Kingdom if you must know, nosey parkers...) I managed to contract one of the many forms of COVID, diagnosed on my return to Athens. This was treated according to prevailing advice and went away fairly quickly and painlessly, save for a bit of a cough with some sputum which sometimes had a bright light green colour. This I knew from previous experience and doctor's advice to be a bad sign, a sign of infection that could have serious consequences for my sensitive respiratory system. Antibiotics were needed pronto, to put a stop to this and to get a prescription I needed to go to a public hospital to be examined and assessed; I was assured this was dead easy.

A few days later I walked across to SOTIRIA (literal meaning: salvation) hospital, about a mile from where I'm currently living, as not only was it the nearest but also specialised in respiratory ailments. Unfortunately I made a crucial mistake and did not check its status as far a s being the duty hospital (it was!), so found queues in the emergency department. Still, my little priority ticket claimed that I had something like a thirty-five minute waiting time, which seemed not unreasonable. So I stayed and waited, and waited some more, and then some; intensely frustrated, I considered leaving after two hours but stayed on, telling myself to be patient. Emergency cases kept arriving on stretchers or otherwise, desperately ill people needing immediate care and pushing non-urgent cases like mine down the list, something I found completely understandable if frustrating; the same could not be said of some of the other waiting people, many of whom kept complaining bitterly, often in a rude manner, to the obviously inundated and overworked staff. I kept my mouth shut, though I desperately wanted to have a go at the moaners, and waited. It was five hours from the time of my arrival before I was seen.

I had expected a cursory examination, with a prescription speedily dispensed to get me out of the way; nothing could have been further from the truth. I was given a full and detailed examination, including blood tests, in an efficient and courteous manner by people clearly overworked and under pressure but not shirking their duties, nor losing their patience and professionalism. There was even evidence of a sense of humour, something not always evident in Greek public facilities, and plenty of understanding.

Sure, I had to wait a further two and a half hours before my results were ready to take away, so overall I ended up having spent over eight hours in this not especially pleasant and certainly stressful environment, but I walked away tired, yes, but surprised, pleased and mightily impressed. The men and women I witnessed manning (personning?) the front line were dedicated, efficient, willing, capable and civil in the face of serious, sustained pressure. They operated at a level equivalent to any western country even though the Greek economic meltdown of a few years ago left them under-equipped and, possibly, under-staffed. So for all I witnessed I salute, congratulate and thank them.

Yet not everything is perfect, or even good. The bureaucracy that supposedly underpins and supports the system is convoluted, inefficient, occasionally self-serving, self-satisfied and lazy, letting down everyone concerned, patients included. Admittedly they often have to work under pressure, but still... There is a lot of work to be done before this system can operate like a well-oiled machine, with this perhaps easier said than done. But surely this is worth striving for, as it will benefit everyone involved. And the Government of the day, irrespective of political affiliations, should aim to provide these good people with the means to continue improving the good work they so clearly do.

Finally I must congratulate myself, as I don't see you, dear reader, rushing to so do... After all, while not known for my patience and stoicism, I managed to spend nearly nine hours in a far from pleasant hospital environment quietly and politely waiting as directed, without strangling or even wishing to strangle a single person. Or no more than a dozen or so of my fellow patients... A veritable candidate for sainthood, wouldn't you say?

More than brothers

I am aware that there are people who go through life without close friends and, I must say, I do not understand it at all. As the more devoted amongst you know, I have been blessed with many good friends in my life, people who have enriched my existence immeasurably and have made me feel infinitely wealthy and blessed. Every one of my friends has added something to my life in their own way.

But here I need to tell you a story involving  a small group of friends that has an extra special position in my life and affections:

Once upon a time many years ago a little blond boy entered the world, probably screaming and maybe even cursing, though he was generally sunny natured. About a year or so later he was introduced to a little boy a year older than himself, whose parents were friends with his lot. Over time they were brought together by their parents to play usually at the same time as the parents socialised, but not living next door to one another this was not an everyday occasion. Nevertheless their friendship grew and grew, was further tested but also strengthened during joint family summer holidays, and developed further with the passing of time.

The original little boy, by now six years old, left to live in the USA for a year, leaving his by now well-established friend behind but without forgetting him. On his return about a year later the two little boys took up where they left off, more or less, getting together quite often.

On his return from the USA the little blond boy, by now not quite so little, had what turned out to be a pleasant surprise in his neighbourhood - two new boys, brothers, just a bit older than him - had moved in more or less next door, so were instantly available potential playmates and possible friends. And friends they, indeed, became, to the point that late last year they celebrated sixty years of friendship! Shortly thereafter they were introduced to the blond boy's other friend, soon becoming firm friends with him also. The young boys not only played together regularly, including football, but became something of a unit, hanging around together at every available opportunity despite various ups and downs in their lives. Their little unit even acquired a name, which to this day describes the individuals involved but which must remain secret.

The blond boy was fortunate to have some spare space in his family's garage, with this becoming a base for the boys, a sort of clubhouse for their activities, this lasting throughout most of their teenage years. To the despair of some of the long-suffering neighbours one of their activities was a pop group, generating plenty of noise, which thankfully developed from the original cacophony to a loud but accomplished modern sound. Three of the four provided musical services (guitar, bass guitar, drums) while the fourth member, less keen on performing, remained as support staff. With parties and local events benefitting from their abilities, the musical activity lasted for maybe three years all told. All sorts of other adventures also ensued, especially as the eldest boy by now had a driver's licence and an ageing Austin Cambridge car available to him!

Life does not follow our self-penned scripts, alas, and the four boys experienced some serious ups -and even more serious- downs over the next few years. While the time spent together varied, their bond was tested but remained strong, and so it has remained despite many changes in their lives including living in a different country, weddings, funerals, children, financial triumphs and catastrophes. They have remained firm friends throughout, supporting each other in times of need and enjoying the shared history that unites them to this day, irrespective of how often they meet. And all this time there have been no fallings out, no periods of unpleasantness, no estrangement; to this day if one of the four asks one of the others for help with something the response is always positive within the realistic possibilities available.

From being the little blond boy, and you probably guessed that was me,  I am now a bald, ageing man grateful for the blessing that is my friendship with these three individuals. And how we feel about each other can best be summed up by the response of one of the four when thanked by the sister of one of the others for helping with a bureaucratic problem her brother had, quote: 'I would do anything within my power for him.'

Eternal beloved friends 'baked in the oven of life' so to speak, so much more than brothers, to you as long as I live and breathe I will be loyal and grateful.

Lucky, lucky man...

 I know that you have missed me, dear reader, as it's been a long time since I put pen to paper or, in any case, got the old laptop out to record thoughts, irritations, even good things. My old excuse, COVID in all its forms has come and looks to be going, so I cannot use that. I guess there has been a kind of hibernation, which seemed to start before the summer and lasted until now; I have no idea why.

Still, I'm back and raring to go, especially as I need to tell you about a very special lunch that my friend YT gave about a week ago. This was very special indeed - a once in ten years, if not once in a lifetime event, and only for wine people - and the wines were rare, largely unusual and served blind; this led to all sorts of interesting conversations and in which I failed miserably in the detective work required. In my defence I have been drinking plonk over the last few years, so my exposure to the more serious stu is limited.

The food that accompanied the wines was relatively simple by YT standards, in order to accompany and not overshadow the wines, but it was delicious and beautifully prepared - home cooking on another level entirely.

Now you may curse me for parading these beauties, but they are worth reading about simply because this will be the closest most of us will ever come to them. Most of these wines are rare and now expensive, superb examples of the winemaker's skill, which takes grape juice and turns it into something magical. They are:

1. Chateau Chalon 1995 from Jean Macle in the Jura. These wines, quirky and individual, were for years undervalued, as they were an acquired taste, but are now in demand and with the appropriate price. Luckily YT has been a follower for many years and still has some bottles he is willing to share with us. This particular one was golden in colour, had a restrained and almost medicinal nose, had sweetness and a typical complex and very long palate. What a way to start...

2. The second wine was a Sancerre 2010, cuvee Paul, from Domaine F. Cotat, as untypical as they come, with a golden colour, burnt sugar nose, bone dry yet with hints of sweetness, long and complex. Would not have pegged it as a Sancerre in a million years.

3. A Clos Ste-Hune 2000 from domaine Trimbach followed, its age disguising its pedigree to some extent, greeny-gold in colour with a distinct grassy nose, medium sweet, complex, long.

4. Bienvenue-Batard Montrachet 1999, domaine Leflaive. This wine caught me completely by surprise, as I had never tried anything but younger, more vibrant examples. Golden yellow, with a bit of brimstone on the nose, a big brute from on the best estates in Burgundy.

5. Cristal 1996, Louis Roederer. I love aged champagne so I appreciated its browny gold colour, its lemony, biscuity nose and its now sedate, long, complex palate. It is a great pity that these wines usually end up in the hands of people who don't understand their quality and care only about their perceived status - the show-off value. Cristal is a beauty, perfectly made by serious people and meant to be enjoyed by like-minded souls, not poured into drunken idiots...

6. Musigny 2011 Domaine de la Vougeraie. Top class red burgundy from a top producer and, if you are tempted to drink Pinot Noir from anywhere else in the world, don't! Most of us may not be able to afford the Grand Crus, but Pinot Noir from anywhere else is at best well-made and competent. Starting to brown, with strawberries and plums on the nose and palate, complex and very long.

7. Chateauneuf-du-Pape Chateau Rayas 1998. This property has made outstanding, untypical, quirky wines for decades, with a complete lack of interest in wine fashion but a total dedication to their craft. Bottles of Rayas are like gold-dust, elusive and beautiful. This was ruby red in colour, wild strawberries on nose with dry tannins and a green-ish finish that was very long indeed.

8. Chateau Haut Brion 1989, one of the heavy hitters of Bordeaux from a good, rich year. Dark in colour still, nearly black, a refined deep red fruit nose and a jammy ripe palate with a perfect ripe, very long finish. A lovely example from a part of the world that can sell most of its wine even when it is mediocre, especially the big names.

9. Chateau Yquem 1967, a mythical wine from a special vintage, rare and delicious. I challenge anybody who says they do not like sweet wines to try something like this beauty. Of course they're expensive, of course making Sauternes is difficult and costly with most things done by hand, but this is a life-changing experience for wine lovers. This was golden brown with ripe apricot and caramel on the palate, caramel on the palate, long, complex, seductive, special.

And then we finished with some Chartreuse Verte Tarragone 1964, a digestif with a strange green yellow colour, minty aromatic nose, medicinal & complex, powerful palate, long and complete, an unusual but rewarding way to finish this most interesting of meals.

Oh, and the bit about the lucky man refers to me, dear reader, not you!

Regression brings disappointment, and death

 As a young child growing up a few years after the Second World War I had to face the suffocating result, strangely named the Cold War; there was sadness, enmity and mutual suspicion, East versus West, freedom versus oppression, but also plenty of optimism that one day we would overcome all that. We, mostly, where eagerly looking forward to the day when hate would be consigned to the bin of history and all people could bask in the warmth of freedom.

The ultimate symbol of the oppressiveness of that era, the Berlin Wall, came down amid loud cheering from the assembled crowds on the 9th of November 1989; or bits of the wall came down that day, with lots more in the days and months following. I remember watching the events on television at home in London and feeling blessed to see this, freedom overcoming oppression, light defeating darkness. Hearing the song 'Wind of Change' still brings a tear to my eye, especially the verse "where the children of tomorrow dream away in the wind of change", because I lived some of that sentiment even if, by then, I was no longer a child.

Some of the tears in the last twenty years have been shed for how we have betrayed those children of tomorrow, how most of the love overflowing that day dried up and became cynicism, how nationalism and materialism overcame all fraternal sentiment. But sad as all that has been, nothing can equal the sadness of what is currently becoming the new status quo, with Russia and its 'charismatic' leader initiating and executing its appalling invasion of Ukraine based of excuses that make the Iraq invasion look like the best documented, thus justified, military intervention in history after the Trojan War. We have regressed to something from the Cold War era, with a dash of WW2 thrown in for good measure.

Death is not reversible, with loads of bodies adorning our tv screens daily, Ukrainian civilians in shocking numbers but numerous young Russian soldiers also. All these people are dead, irreversibly, for reasons I am unable to fathom. Of course loads of theories abound, none of which to my mind adequately justifies the death and destruction. There is no rewind button, no glory, just pointless brutality and many dead bodies.

It may be that we human beings are unable to live together in harmony for long periods of time, that sooner or later we cherish our neighbour's possessions or feel we need to display our superior strength to anyone convenient. It is sobering thought, even more so for the younger generations whose life stretches ahead of them, tantalisingly promising. For older creatures such as myself the dreadful realisation dawns that our life, which not that long ago was full of optimism for humankind, will fizzle out in the sour miasma of bitter disappointment.

Let's hope at least that we won't see World War Three.

English football and Marcus Rashford

English football has had some of its best - and worst - moments in the last few weeks, during Euro 2020 which has happened thanks to the Covid pandemic during 2021. Let me elaborate.

Anyone who knows anything about football - American football fans look away now - knows that the standards of the game are incredibly high in England, which happens to be its birthplace, with teams at all levels being hugely competitive. English teams have been extremely competitive and very successful in international competitions for many, many years; not so the National team, which has only won one major trophy and that on home soil - the 1966 World Cup, wine in thrilling fashion. This success has never been repeated, despite some great teams/players/managers being involved, for reasons not known or understood.

Roll around Euro 2020, a young unheralded English team and an untested manager on, essentially, his first managerial position - a recipe for disaster, one might think, and I confess to have had my doubts as to their potential. I was, of course, spectacularly wrong, with the England team showing great character and resilience while fighting their way to the final, convincingly beating their old Nemesis (Germany) along the way. Admittedly, there was little great football to see along the way as this young side struggled to fuse and fully express their talents, but there were sparks of greatness showing the potential, coupled with a convincing fighting spirit. And they reached the edge of greatness, only to fail in the penalty shootout against Italy in the final but still the most successful English team since 1966.

Probably the most spectacular penalty miss was by Marcus Rashford, the Manchester United player who has shown great maturity in his career to date on and off the pitch. A supremely talented young man, unfailingly polite and modest in behaviour, a player set to star in football both home and abroad for years to come. Marcus badly fluffed his penalty, hitting the post, while he had already sent the opposing keeper the wrong way - a mistake by a young man, almost still a kid, at an extremely stressful time and for which he was clearly devastated.

Out came the haters, ready to heap abuse on him, because Marcus is a young black man. To make matters worse, all three players (Marcus Rashford, Jadon Sancho, Bukayo Saka) who were unsuccessful in their penalty kicks were black, fuelling the imaginations and reaction of racists in England and elsewhere, producing despicable outbursts on the internet and even vandalism of a Rashford mural somewhere. Why? What were people thinking? These are hugely talented youngsters who are part of the future of English football and will surely bring trophies home soon - what will the haters say then?

Marcus Rashford issued a powerful, dignified, modest statement in response that shows, once again, the character of the man. My admiration for this young man has grown since his penalty miss; despite his youth he is mature, caring, articulate and a supremely talented footballer who will reward his team and his country hugely over the coming years. His skin colour is clearly an irrelevance, his quality as an athlete and a human being is not!

Lots of funerals, no weddings...

 Pass a certain age and the less than ideal fact is that one attends or hears of far more sad events, illnesses and deaths than joyous celebrations; that's just a fact of life, the way it is, tough. So funerals are common, weddings extremely rare, alas.

It was to another funeral that I made my way to this morning, luckily taking place at the local church, that of an older male relative. Though he and I were never friends as well as relatives, I felt the need to represent my branch of the family and show my face to his children, one of whom I am relatively close to. The price to pay is to endure the liturgy that the Greek Orthodox Church deems appropriate for deceased individuals which, while not excessively long is, to an irreligious but Greek Orthodox born person like me, a bit of an ordeal.

It is an ordeal not only because, depending on the 'package' agreed with the priests conducting the service, things may drone on and on, rich in readings, chanting and platitude, but also because it is full of impressive but meaningless verbiage to indicate constancy and eternity. I mean, really, who is going to be around to remember me fifty or a hundred years after I kick the bucket, never mind centuries later... Yet the chant goes: 'may his/her memory be eternal' - a joke, a silly little joke in bad taste.

Humankind has been on this Earth for a very short time, relatively speaking, for only a few thousand years, and Christianity for an even shorter time, 2021 years to be precise, yet it loves to talk about worship and remembering every Tom, Dick or Harriet centuries from now. And it does so on and on, on and on, on and on during a funeral service, pretending whoever has just died is of deep significance, to be remembered forever; we're not and we won't be, so please can we get on with the blinking service so the dead person can go to their grave or whatever forthwith, and I can go home/cafe/drinking sooner rather than later.

I have never been married and now may never have the joy of experiencing this particular ritual as a participant, so my only experience of weddings is as a guest, impatiently eyeing up the female section of the congregation for the reception later. The thought of nice food, drink and, perhaps, some attractive female company immediately after helps me through the religious gobbledegook; no such luck at funerals. And at my age there are now many funerals - with my own also on the horizon, though hopefully not quite yet -  and hardly any weddings.

And don't worry duckies, I'll make sure my own funeral is brief and to the point - he's dead, get over it and get on with life, thanks - so you won't be bitching about it to your friends or on some blog.

Ateni beach, Andros island, Greece

This should have appeared last summer, but did not; appearing today, it gives off a whiff of summer and what we are missing, but also what we are looking forward to in 'a glass half full' sort of world... Enjoy:

My loyal reader knows well that there is a beach on the island of Andros that I have a soft spot for, even more than for St. Peter's Beach, my ever pleasing consistent standard go-to place with bar called Funky Donkey -and this beach is called Ateni. I love this place primarily because, despite having a great little beach bar with sun loungers, umbrellas and drinks/snacks, it has the feeling of an unspoilt, undeveloped, natural place. Granted, it is open to the northerly winds that cool/batter the island for most of July and August, sometimes making the bay at Ateni an angry cauldron of water; waves can regularly make swimming a bit of an adventure. And the sea, during these windy days, seems eager to deposit loads of debris of all descriptions - though mainly assorted plastics from as far afield as Turkey - on the lovely sandy beach.

As unpleasant as these things sound, they detract little from the amazing overall experience offered by the place. The clean air, the feeling of being close to nature, the peace and quiet, they're all supplemented by an impeccable little beach bar, run by the Glynos family and their assistants/employees, that has won me over not just by the care they put into everything they do and the food they serve, but also the unfailing politeness and friendly service that is consistently offered. This year, despite the problems offered by the pandemic and substantial loss of business, they were all out there again looking after everybody while wearing the requisite equipment (masks etc.) and immediately utilising the necessary cleaning materials whenever there was a need, quickly and efficiently.Getting in and out of the water is slightly tricky at Ateni, as there is a rocky ledge running along most of the length of the beach. This is just an inconvenience and easily overcome with a bit of care, so it looks more tricky than it actually is and, once you are past it the water is just fantastic, clear and cool. There is a tremendous feel when splashing about in the middle of the bay surrounded by nature, with few sights, sounds and smells of the modern world intruding. There is peace and quiet here, allowing full enjoyment of the sea yet with the modern but unobtrusive facilities of the Ateni Beach Bar only minutes away.

The drinks and food available are, for a little family-run place on a beach somewhat off the beaten track, of good to excellent quality and represent a fairly comprehensive offering, for which they get great and well-deserved reviews. But in this strange year, dominated as it has been by Covid-19 and the measures taken to limit its spread, the quality at Ateni has just not been enough to ensure a sufficient level of business to ensure survival. Still they smile, welcoming repeat and new customers alike with the same warmth, efficiency and humility; hopefully enough of us will appreciate their qualities to enable them to survive, to be there next year, to continue enhancing this beautiful location.

Don't take my word for the attributes of the place - a pair of swans were daily visitors, enjoying the hospitality of the beach bar with us but, unlike us, they did not have to pay

for sunbeds, parasols or food.

Magical Ateni, probably my favourite beach - and beach bar - on Andros; it really is that good!

Kos - Part 1

I have spent many of my childhood summer holidays on the Greek island of Kos, part of the Dodecanese island group and, until 1947 under Italian rule. We chose Kos - well, I didn't, my parents did, together with relatives and friends - in the mid-1960s for two main reasons:
1. Kos, together with the other Dodecanese islands, were incredibly cheap as they were still in a transitional taxation period from Italian to Greek rule, a massive benefit for our financially hard-pressed families. This allowed us to spend more time on holiday without breaking the budget, with little terrors such as myself unable to spend more than a few drachmas a day no matter how foolish our spending.
2. There were few motor vehicles on Kos at the time but many, many bicycles, so that we could be allowed to roam hither and thither without much risk of incurring bodily injuries of any serious nature, other than minor scrapes from the occasional fall.

The tourist industry at the time was in its infancy, with Greece still recovering from World War 2 and its aftermath; there were a few rooms to let and a handful of rickety hotels, offering little more than a place to sleep that was very basic indeed. The first small hotel we stayed in - there were no big hotels on the island at the time - was near the sea, in a pretty but decrepit italianate building and had the name of a wind. To describe it as basic is kind, but at the age of 10 I couldn't care less, even when the occasional wandering cockroach was factored in to the equation - Kos was an adventure!

The first day we arrived, I and my oldest childhood friend LJ (Little John) set out to explore the place and, being young and football mad, we found the local football stadium and went to investigate what was what. While at the stadium we met a smiling young local boy, probably a bit older than us, called Hippocrates; he became our first local friend and helped us to meet several other local boys so that we could all play football together. We became so close to our new friends that, when the locals would play football against the holidaymakers team we were always on the locals side.

Childhood friendships, especially holiday ones, often disappear and fade with the passage of time and when distance emerges; sometimes you simply stop visiting a certain place and, as a consequence, all your local connections weaken and eventually cease to exist. So to a certain extent happened with LJ, me and our friends in Kos - life just separated us... until about 15 years ago, when I receive a telephone call from a TV program in Greece whose reason for existing was to reconnect people who for some reason had lost touch.

Not only did I get to go on television again - I had some appearances in my racing driver days - but the person looking for me was an old friend from Kos who had emigrated to the United States but was now back. The show was intriguing, emotional and gave me a prod to try and reconnect with the island where I had spent so many happy times but, assuming they were still around, with some of the friends who had made my youthful holidays so special. A few years later I took an early morning flight and spent three days searching around Kos town for my old friends.

Kos town was changed, sure, but not so as to be unrecognisable; it was still, at least in parts, picturesque and beautiful. Even more beautiful was the fact that I managed to find Hippocrates and really reconnect, leading to meeting some of the others. The rest, dear reader, is history, some of which you will read in the next post about Kos!

YT strikes again!

Not only is YT and extremely generous friend and host but, alas for my peace of mind though a positive influence on my accuracy, is also an eagle-eyed reader of my posts (much like you, dear reader), ready to correct the smallest slip and - wouldn't you know it - a slip materialised in my recent post concerning the reopening of the Roof Terrace! YT noticed that I seemed to claim, for reasons best known to me and me alone, that  the second wine he served that time was of a different vintage to the first wine, 2005 to 2008 to be precise; needless to say that my statement was incorrect, as they are both 2005s and, you clearly remember dear reader, both very good, the first even a star.

Last week we were summoned again to YT's place, though only two of us could make it on the night, for a simple dinner washed down by some rather pleasant wines. The YT/MT duo make simple seem easy, as their food is always positively bursting with interesting flavours and has a near perfect texture (pace YT). With the openers -little canapés and bits and pieces - we had a lovely young (2016) 1er Cru red Burgundy from a sub-prime (ha-ha, I know, clever way of putting it...) village but a top grower, and very good it was too. Young burgundy of this kind is vigorous yet delicate, full of strawberry lusciousness typical of young Pinot Noir, clean and intensely gluggable. But for the price this would be my perfect choice for an everyday red to drink on its own or with food, though not with very spicy stuff, and was a good example of why pinot noir from Burgundy is a class apart. The wine was from the village of Givry on the Cote Chalonnaise (between the Cote d'Or, where top Burgundies come from, and the rather plainer cousins in the Maconnais further south), the grower was Francois Lumpp and it was a lovely glass of wine, a real treat for an old Burgundy lover like me.

The second bottle, served to accompany the main course of gigantes (giant beans) and kavourmas (cured spiced meat with Turkish origins, as suggested by the name) was a biggy from that famous Rhone master of winemaking Guigal - a Cote Rotie 2000 Brune et Blonde de Guigal. Guigal makes some of the best wines of the Rhone valley and produces no duff wines at all, with even his basic Cotes du Rhone red a cut above most others and worth seeking out. His bigger reds like this one, as well as his single vineyard gems are worth seeking out for any wine lover, though prices can be eye-watering. Whilst warm temperatures do not tend to flatter these big red wines, this was showing all its power and complexity, its ripe spicy red fruit nicely balanced with a twist of finesse, juicy and lingering on the palate and its age hardly obvious in its vivid colour and voluptuous nature; as per YT standards this was a great match for our main course. For me this was an unexpected treat, especially given the time of year, and most gratefully received.


But luckily the evening did not end there, but continued with a rare Hungarian gem to follow, a sweet Tokaji (Tokay) from the 1997 vintage, Chateau Pazjos, rare and apparently extremely valuable because of its rarity. Sweet, luscious and concentrated, this was impressively complex and enjoyable - a dessert in a glass - but not that wonderful as to justify a highly elevated price. Granted, Tokay is never cheap but I had been expecting to taste something not just enjoyable but shockingly good; this did not fulfil my ambitions, but I was grateful for the opportunity of tasting it nevertheless.

And then came the finale: you have heard me rave more than once about the ethereal, wonderful stuff that is grappa from Levi and YT honoured us by offering a little glass of this very rare, delicious glory in a glass; I was more than happy to take him up on that, and always will unless I am in some way incapacitated or have no free will! Grappa has no right to be this good, believe me, no right at all - most grappas are slightly coarse if satisfyingly flavourful, not hugely refined - but here we have a masterpiece: all the flavour of the best grappas with an extra dimension (several?) of finesse and complexity, ayeeee, heaven.

As I see you looking pale, dear reader, and ready to enquire after the state of my liver, I must clarify that this is not an everyday occurrence for me, much to my disappointment, but an occasional treat - why there are days when all I have to drink is water, even though I know all the arguments about rusting or what the fish do in it, naughty things. But not every day...

Coronavirus - The new 'Normal'

All over the world countries are starting to lift their restrictions imposed on their citizens and visitors in order to combat the coronavirus named Covid-19 or, according to the orange person, the Chinese virus. There appears to be no dispute at present that the virus originates from China, incidentally, but there also does not appear to be any independent fact that can confirm it was created and allowed to spread on purpose by the Chinese.

As you know, dear reader, I have been confined 'to barracks' in Greece, not allowed to pursue my normal activities; then again, so was everyone else, with the Greek government scoring a major success with its early, strict lockdown - not that I appreciated it at the time. The early lockdown has led to low infection and casualty figures and, therefore, early easing of the measures to allow the economy - and society in general - to breathe and start functioning again. Time will allow us to judge the measures taken properly, but saving lives can never be a bad thing, methinks.

Cafes, shops and restaurants are now fully open with restrictions in place as to the numbers of customers, distances and protective equipment that is mandatory. The warm weather of the arriving Greek summer is helping everyone feel better, though there is unease at the risks of undoing  achieved successes by trying to rush too soon back to the status quo. Already I've witnessed restrictions ignored on buses, bars and cafes, albeit by and large in a modest way, but who knows what may follow. The old folks considered more at risk - and I am on the basis of age, if not fitness, part of that demographic - seemed more concerned/frightened than the youngsters, which is probably fair enough.

Of course there are people up in arms about both sides of the equation - some are furious that any restrictions still exist, as the economy is struggling, with some businesses on the verge of collapse. Some of these people even consider the initial imposition of restrictions ill-advised, despite numbers seeming to clearly support the measures, with conflicting theories circulating on the internet stirring the passions. Conspiracy theorists are in overdrive, even ascribing to modest, unassuming Mr. Tsiodras, Greece's chief medical advisor/expert on the pandemic, political aspirations, general ambitions and personal gain issues in his handling of things, despite the fact that he consistently shied away from excess personal publicity.

Don't get me wrong, dear reader, I 'love' conspiracy theories and the - mostly - 'insightful' idiots who support them, as they make me feel I possess some small degree of intelligence denied to these unfortunate creatures; I cannot deny, however, that they can be extremely harmful to society as they spread their poison around and sow suspicion, dissent, even hate. I am intrigued at how these people find conspiracies everywhere, despite the fact that in today's connected world information can circle the globe in seconds, with very little hidden. In the 1970s, when information was much harder to come by, there were many films made about conspiracy theories - how 'they', unseen and all-powerful industrialists/conspirators,  ruled the world and controlled everything - but the shadowy figures have gone away, consigned to the dustbins of history to make room for new candidates like George Soros and Bill Gates. Whatever makes you happy...

In the meantime I have to get used to being served at cafes by people who look more like pirates or stick-up men, as small price to pay, I suppose, for keeping the Covid-19 virus away from the general populace and those most at risk. Strange times, indeed, and getting stranger every day.

The Roof Garden is open for business again!

I'll be honest with you up front for a change, dear reader: there is no Roof Garden and no business is involved at our private get-togethers on any occasion!

Please don't be disappointed, it's just a bit of fun  to celebrate the restart of the, by now, famous with you evenings at the home of my friends YT and MT, evenings with lovely, mostly simple but amazingly tasty, food and stunning wines, lively discussions and generosity of spirit. In the colder months festivities have always taken place indoors, but when the weather softens we have in the past moved to the balcony - the roof garden of my imagination. This year, of course, Covid-19 cut short the winter YT/MT dining season and, until recently, was keeping the warmer weather version under wraps.

Not anymore, amigos! Only a few days ago I had the pleasure of visiting my friends again and, together with two more lucky souls, experience their bountiful hospitality once more. The theme food-wise was simplicity itself, the wines were anything but: unusual, interesting, intriguing, satisfying and luscious, with a tiny drop of rare lightly cask-aged grappa to aid the digestion - the roof garden back with a bang.

The first white wine was one of those beauties that you need to give your palate time to fully appreciate, though your nose will have given you fair warning of the pleasures to come. Made by top Austrian grower F.X. Pichler in Wachau from the Gruner Veltliner grape, this Smaragd Dursteiner Kellerberg 2008 was a study in subtlety, complexity and hidden power in a wine already over twenty years old. Youthfull and fresh in colour and taste, yet with surprising depth of lychee and ripe apricot/melon taste including a metallic note in subtle layers on both nose and palate, this was to me a confirmation of the heights now scaled by top Austrian wines. Pichler's wines are stars in anybody's way of thinking, deservedly, with prices to match, and this is one of the best. The Kellerberg vineyard appears to be uniquely blessed in every way - exposure, gradient, micro-climate, soil - to produce outstanding and complex wines; this was certainly one of them, with the Smaragd designation (minimum 12.5% alcohol) achieved with hard work in a difficult, rainy vintage to give it some extra punch. Wow!

The second wine was from the same area and grape variety but a different grower, sightly older with a very different style: Gruner Veltliner Smaragd Vinothekfullung 2005 Emmerich Knoll. A lovely, riper style, golden yellow in colour and with plenty to chew on, I found this immediately appealing but less beguiling than the first wine, more up front but less complex, somehow a bit easier to approach but ultimately less rewarding. Whilst I wouldn't 'kick it out of bed' it never reached the heights of the Pichler wine for me, though two of my friends present actually preferred this. Super wines both with prices to match, I can only think back to my start in the wine trade, when the Austrian wine scandal with the anti-freeze had just broken and nobody thought much of them or showed any inclination to buy - how wrong we all were, how short-sighted!

Only a few days ago I raved about a wine from Bordeaux; today, alas, I cannot do the same. Our third wine was a 1995 Troplong Mondot from St. Emilion, classified Premier Grand Cru Classe B in the local classification and a bottle I would have expected to have been splendid. The 1995 vintage, however, seems to have been difficult in St. Emilion, with tannins remaining hard and the fruit on this showing in retreat, making for a rather hard, untypical wine from a property where the blend is 90% Merlot, 5% each of Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon. With the wine too mature for it to have been a phase in the development we either had a hard bottle or the 1995 at Troplong Mondot is ungenerous in character.

Nobody can ever accuse good Sauternes wines of being ungenerous, however, and our sumptuous 1990 Chateau Raymond-Lafon was no exception. Though unclassified, this property has, since it was purchased by Pierre Meslier and his family in the 1970's, been transformed into a little superstar, helped enormously by the fact that Mr. Meslier was at the time the technical director of Chateau d'Yquem, possibly the best and certainly consistently the most sought-after and expensive wine in the Sauternes  appellation. Skilfully exploiting both his deep knowledge and connections Pierre Meslier and his family managed to quickly achieve both excellent quality and a glowing reputation, to the envy of some of his more highly-rated vineyards. I was fortunate to attend a tasting in London around the 1980s sometime presented by Madame Meslier, Pierre's wife, and was much impressed by the attention to detail of Raymond-Lafon wines, rating them highly. If they manage to charge more than other, more highly rated and perhaps better, wines is not a point against Raymond-Lafon but against the buyers who support this and allow it to happen, though if the end customer is happy we can say nothing.

Raymond-Lafon is a botrytis wine, sweet, big and luscious, exotic yet earthy, full of notes of ripe white fruits and creme brûlée, the 1990 came from a big, ripe vintage and displayed all of those characteristics while still being full of life, rich but not blowsy. Perhaps it lacked the finesse and complexity of an absolutely top wine from a top vintage, but I 'ain't complainin' - I just love these wines and all they give us! Currently rather unfashionable, difficult to produce and therefore expensive but currently hard to sell at a decent price to make a living - Yquem is an exception, obviously - they are a glorious anachronism and may soon become a thing of the past. I hope I don't live to see their passing, for the world would be a far more boring place without them.

I closed with a rare grappa (a special bottling for a friend of Levi and also ours) from the Levi stable from the time when the old folks were alive. I've raved about these before, as they are rare in their finesse and complexity and may never be equalled or bettered. Like a fine cognac, these are works of art and I am grateful to YT for occasionally allowing me to enjoy one.

Aren't I the lucky one?

Bordeaux wine on a spring evening

Bordeaux wines are impressive, expensive beasts, at least at the top levels, full of class and power; the tables or the powerful, rich and famous are their normal stomping grounds. In the last 30-35 years they are impeccably made and beautifully aged in the best oak casks money can buy, resting in cellars that provide the ideal conditions. And well they must, of course, as they are the investment vehicles of the wine world, expected to be reliable and impressive.

Bordeaux is an area full of glamour, with beautiful chateaux all over the place, benefiting from a stellar reputation developed over centuries of serious wine-making and status building. The area is full of grand estates with many beautiful chateaux and correspondingly smart proprietors; it is a very status-conscious part of the world that makes great wines, thus supporting the status. The temperate climate guarantees good results most years, with the grape varieties used for the famed red wines providing a sturdy backbone of structure combined with finesse and, occasionally, lusciousness; technology can now ensure the indifferent or difficult years can also be decent. White dry wines exist here and range from the run-of-the-mill boring but gluggable bottles to the rare glorious curiosities. The sweet white wines are in a - currently less than fashionable - class of their own; why they are currently unloved when they offer, at least at the serious level, huge satisfaction per sip plus value for money is beyond me - but then, so is most fashion.

These days, as I am not fully active in the wine trade and with Covid-19 restricting me to Athens, I get few chances to try a mature, decent Bordeaux red, so it was with great pleasure that I greeted my friend YT (you know him and his generosity well by now, dear reader) knowing that he had brought to a mutual friend's dinner a magnum (large bottle the size of 2 normal 75 cl. bottles for the uninitiated) of 1994 Chateau Brane-Cantenac. Based in the commune of Cantenac-Margaux and deserving of the Margaux appelation, it used to have a terrific reputation in the distant past and was classified as a 2nd Growth (2eme Cru) in the 1855 classification of Bordeaux Chateaux, but went into decline by the early 20th century. The Lurton family of Bordeaux wine producers have, since purchasing it in 1922, slowly but surely dragged it back up where it belongs, with our magnum a testament to this: textbook Margaux silky seductiveness, youthful for its age ethereal complex red cherry fruit and balanced tannins making this a most enjoyable glass of wine, belying the fact that it came from an 'off' vintage. Well-made, mature but lively, perfectly poised and full of Margaux charm - the nose in particular was especially impressive, gloriously complex, rich and elegant - this was satisfaction in a glass.

Since I first became involved in wine many moons ago, I have always admired Bordeaux and its wines, primarily for their business-like approach, their commitment to excellence and their consistency. My passion, however, has been for Burgundy, that intriguing little plot of land either side of Beaune, a site of tiny vineyards, small wineries and - at the best level - unimaginably complex wines. The people there are, by and large, people of the soil, ordinary villagers, with few grand chateaux and mostly village housing, but the area holds me in its spell. Having said that, a good Bordeaux ready to drink is something very special, a sight to behold, a bottle to be greatly appreciated, just like our magnum of Brane-Cantenac 1994. Not as complex and beguiling as a top Burgundy, perhaps, but pleasing in its own way nevertheless, a charming 25-year old worth going out of your way for.

How lucky I am, retsina one night, a 2nd growth Bordeaux another, all the wonders of the world in my glass and with good company to boot...  I don't know what is to follow, but I'm grateful in advance.

Retsina

Dear reader, had you asked me not that long ago whether I would be writing about retsina, a wine so out of fashion as to be virtually unmentionable in serious wine circles, I probably would have smirked before staring at you aggressively. It had never been my thing, retsina, never sought it out, never felt warmly towards it, was truly never a fan. And this despite having glugged gallons of the stuff over the last twenty-something years in Lemonia restaurant, Primrose Hill, London, with my friends Nick & Jen and assorted others.

At the time of glugging - and I seriously do mean gallons - I thought that I was just going along with the others so as not to offend, but drink it I did in quantity, never really complaining. This was the standard retsina of Attica (the area around Athens) from Kourtaki, textbook stuff, typically unsubtle and in-your-face resinated, which chilled was surprisingly agreeable (hindsight rewriting history here) with the Greek/Cypriot food served at Lemonia. Hell, it must have been or at some point I would have demurred and ordered something else; I never did. On one memorable occasion Athens the tail end of the previous century we started eating and drinking around 1:30 pm, were still at it a about 4:30 when they finished the lunchtime service and closed for an hour and a half, yet still there when they reopened for evening service at around 6:00. We left, I think, around 7:30 after 6 or 8 (or maybe 10) bottles of the aforementioned mainly between the three of us. Nobody forced me, you understand, it was a great afternoon/evening filled with laughter, sort of memorable (I don't remember details, unsurprisingly!), so I must have enjoyed myself - and the retsina.

Still, I never expected I'd actually be interested in the stuff in any intellectual way. But, confession time, I am, for a funny, roundabout reason, it being the Savatiano grape variety that you will see mentioned on this blog again and again. In my humble opinion it is the next great grape variety from Greece to woo international wine lovers after the glorious Assyrtiko and its cohorts Athiri and Aidani, so beautifully showcased in Santorini white wines. Savatiano is prevalent in the Attic vineyards, traditional in retsina and too subtle to attract the average wine drinker, so until recently it has featured as an indifferent high-yield glugger and has been largely ignored. Not any more, boys and girls, as certain producers have taken to looking after it properly, limiting yields and making concentrated, still subtle but multi-layered, proper wines with real potential. And the attention to detail has spread to retsina, with interesting results.

Resin in ancient times was added to the wine as a preservative, because there was no way to protect the wine placed in amphorae from the harmful effects of contact with air - even sealed in some way they were never entirely airtight - and not as a modification of the taste, or so we must assume given that, inconsiderately, no ancient Greeks have either survived to explain otherwise or have bequeathed detailed production/tasting notes to posterity. Modern versions add it purely for the taste but it remains a minority sport, ignored by most as uncouth and yucky.

It is not so, I must tell you, dear friends, as your intrepid taster has been fortunate to discover. Even the Kourtaki version now offers a degree of complexity and character that makes it enticing, with others producing even more subtle versions, with the resin complementing the Savatiano character admirably. So admirably, indeed, that I have found myself on occasion seeking out retsina for pleasure at home and, no, it is not a sign of losing my sense of taste due to Covid-19. There are now several new-wave wines featuring resin, some even small-scale and with single vineyard status, offering character and style in harmony with complexity and, even, subtlety!

Retsina may never be to everyone's taste, but that is not necessarily a bad thing, as it has lots of character and, if well made, even class. It can be not only pleasurable but, actually, a great accompaniment to many strong-tasting Greek dishes. And, being unfashionable, it will by and large keep your pocket happy too. One of these days I'll do a comparative tasting of several Retsina versions and let you have the results, in order to help guide you to the one you'll like the best.

A coronavirus diary of sorts

Unless you've been on a desert island somewhere with no information or media access of any sort you will be familiar with the present strain of  coronavirus, which brings about an illness called Covid-19. This virus, highly contagious, has been busy spreading all around the world, infecting and  killing people here, there and everywhere; it is not an exaggeration to say that it is currently changing the face of the world.

Since the outbreak has started I have been more or less confined to Athens (Greece, you silly sausage, not Ohio, Georgia or anywhere else, thankfully given the Covid-19 events in the USA) and environs, witnessing the shutting down of most social life all around me as the government tries to halt the march of Covid-19. Boredom is a major factor in the life of people here, people who are normally used to going out most of the time, whether to cafes in the morning, restaurants of one description or other later and bars at the end of most days. This is a society where, generally, staying in is not the norm and is often rather frowned upon; even in the days of deep financial crisis people found a few pennies and went out, to cheap souvlaki places and rather basic tavernas, maybe, but out nevertheless.

Yet the rebellious Greeks have largely complied with their Government's policy and requests, largely out of fear I think, making the country a bit of a star in the way it has handled this not only on a European but a Worldwide basis - Greek casualties directly attributable to Covid-19 have only recently passed the one hundred mark, with the thing seemingly under control. For once the 'naughty child' is setting a good example for others, something I find very satisfying.

As you've gathered by now, dear reader, this is nothing like a diary - I've never kept one in my life, actually - but more of an essay, an analysis without much detail, a descriptive, low-key rant. Fear not, for what follows is the real thing, descriptive, tight, expressive:

I wake up late with little to do other than eat some oranges for, I suppose, brunch.
Do little other than wade through emails and catch up on news on the computer, especially on the international activities of the coronavirus.
Go for a two hours exercise/walk, usually with a friend, returning late afternoon.
Eat something,
More computer stuff, applying to the odd job, or newspaper/sudoku/crossword.
Eat again.
Drink some wine.
Eat some more.
Drink some more.
Watch some television.
Go to bed, read or do puzzles, then sleep.
Get up the next day and repeat.

Enough diary nonsense, though. the Greek Prime Minister is this evening to make important announcements about gradually reopening the economy in a phased way, so all my thoughts above are probably irrelevant. This, I must confess, makes me upset, even if the rest of society is pleased and relieved. What is my world going to be like now? Will I be able to go out for a coffee again, without having to walk ten miles in the process in order to be permitted to wander about? Will I have to see my friends again on a regular basis?

Ooof! It's enough to make me write a proper diary...

China - to trust or not to trust?

We are strange creatures indeed, we westerners, suddenly faced with a world health crisis probably originating in China. Until yesterday China was a good place, providing us with all sorts of useful products, many developed and designed by us, at prices we could only dream of if we were to produce them ourselves. So what if the people producing our shit - I use the word loosely - were only allowed to sleep for only a few hours a day and were obliged to live a slave-like existence; we were happy to benefit, closed our eyes and ears and allowed life to continue to our benefit.

Then coronavirus appeared, the one leading to Covid-19 and, possibly, a painful death for anyone contracting it. China seems to be where it first appeared - Wuhan specifically - and from there it spread like fire all over the globe, infecting people left, right and centre. Much speculation on the origins has occurred all over, with conspiracy theories blaming China, the US or whomever, but China has always figured as the main culprit, unwittingly or not - was it a result of little Chinamen happily munching an infected bat or two over a cup of rice wine or an escapee from a secretive virus-creating laboratory residing in Wuhan?

Yes, the official China reacted badly initially, underestimating the potential problem and trying to hide things under a veil of silence; totalitarian regimes work like that to protect their interests, unsurprisingly. Yes, it has been proven to have been a misguided, wrong move that had disastrous consequences, but then turned around and worked wonders by instituting draconian restrictive measures and generally tackling the virus head-on, with so far seemingly remarkable results.

Now we in the West have started attacking China as dishonest and dishonourable, claiming not only that they hid things at the outset but that they are lying through their teeth now, providing false numbers relevant to Covid-19 etc. Furthermore, we are accusing China of using the provision of their assistance in this general time of need for empire building and as a benefit to their long-term plans.

There is a wonderful book by Peter Frankopan, The New Silk Roads, that analyses and tackles these issues both in detail and in context, so they should come as no surprise for they are not new, but have been going on for some time now. Why are we acting surprised? Do we find it convenient? It is both stupid and untimely to analyse China's role in this matter and in this way, especially given the lack of proof. Given the fact that we are still grappling with this disease without a hint of and end or a cure, nor indeed specific analyses of the precise origins of this disaster, is in not best to wait until all is known before apportioning blame?

Now is not the time for recriminations, especially given the interdependence within most of the world. Much of the Western world now wagging fingers in China's face are also largely dependent on China's productive capabilities, is that not a recipe for disaster? What about fairness, which the Western world used selectively in years gone by to abuse not only China but large parts of the rest of the globe. China may well be (or not) to blame for everything to do with this, but prove it we must before engaging in righteous polemics and attacking hither and thither. Whether we like it or not we live in an interconnected world, largely of our creation, that needs to be managed sensibly. Neither we, nor anyone else, can send the gunboats in anymore - empires belong to the past and stay there they must; proper procedures for establishing fault must be followed.

Jaw-jaw must prevail, for war-war, even of the commercial kind, will lead to destruction and mutual loss. It should be seen as a last resort, not an act of whim and folly.

Liar, liar, pants on fire?

Well, what can I, what can anyone, indeed, say about the person 'leading' the Free World, the current President of the United States, Mr. Donald J. Trump? And, furthermore, what can anyone say of his supporters, the people who even now refuse to face facts while their country is being ravaged by an epidemic that had been signposted months ago. The United States of America is fast becoming a bad, bad joke, killing its people and undermining its world status.

Let me make some things clear so I am not misunderstood: I am - and always have been - an Americanophile, having lived in the States in the early 1960s and gone to first grade in an American school. Furthermore, a lot of my schooling has been spent in American or American-related institutions, where I have been able to appreciate many great things to do with American culture - yes, fellow euro-snobs, there is such a thing, albeit much younger than most of ours. And I have had both American relatives and friends, all wonderful people who have enriched my life considerably, many of whom are no longer with us. My criticism of this often wonderful country and its equally often wonderful people stems from the facts, untainted by political bias - I am not, have never been and never will be a socialist, left leaning or a communist - and coloured only by disappointment.

American Presidents used to be educated, well-spoken, worldly figures who by and large grasped that the US had a role to play in the world due to its size, military might and commercial power and aspirations, a de facto major world power on the side of freedom (free trade especially) and democracy. At times their behaviour was less than laudable both as individuals and as statesmen, often allowing their country to indulge in despicable, even criminal, behaviour by interfering in the politics of other countries sometimes for political (usually anti-communist in the Cold War era) or economic reasons, occasionally both. Their intentions were not always - but sometimes were - altruistic, even when expanding or reinforcing their sphere of influence.

Today, led (I use the term loosely) by a man who is ignorant of world history, doesn't listen to advisors/briefings/specialists and gets his world views solely from watching his favourite TV channels, America is becoming not only a laughing stock but an enemy to all and sundry. A spoiled, selfish and self-absorbed man, he is passing his code of conduct on to 'his' nation, making it behave like a bully. Yet such seems to be the ignorance and/or moral bankruptcy of his supporters that he is admired for things that leave the rest of the world shaking their heads in disbelief and, like me, in disappointment. And everyone daring to criticise or speak a word against him is labelled a liar (Ha!), a lefty, a hoaxer, a fraud...

In this Covid-19 crisis President Trump has shown the extent of his ignorance, indecision and inability to listen to experts and comprehend facts, especially if these facts are not convenient for him and his interests. This will result in a significant number of American lives being lost as a direct consequence, maybe even tens of thousands, yet his adoring fans still applaud him and his lies - and it is not inconceivable that he could win the next election. It is truly unbelievable and extremely dangerous to the USA, to its people, to the rest of the world and americanophiles like me.

But perhaps sanity will eventually prevail. What do you think, dear reader?