Breaking the Rules.

Breaking the Rules

‘Oh, please, not another photo for Facebook showing us eating and drinking, sitting in a taverna with our arms round each other. Ten thousand people will think that’s all we do.’

‘Well, they won’t be far wrong, will they? So, what will it be?’

‘Well, as it’s Lent, how about some mashed fava beans, taramosalata and shrimp? No meat.’

‘Fine. Now, hand me the camera.’

Our waitress plonked a large, glass ashtray on the table and poised her pencil ready to take our order.

‘I thought smoking was forbidden now in Greece.’

The waitress looked at me as if I were insane.

’Where do you think this is – Switzerland?’ she scoffed. Over her shoulder I could see the chef taking a long drag on his fag before disappearing into the kitchen.

Quite, who the hell would want to live in Switzerland with all that order and organization, with no chance of a couple of beers before you drive home, and no sea to enjoy a karafaki of ouzo by?

Even as a non-smoker, I have a sneaking regard for the Greek penchant for breaking rules. The no smoking ban has worked in countries as diverse as Turkey and Ireland – but in Greece – never! This is the third try and presumably the last.

When it comes to breaking the rules, I think too of my village, Vilia. There is a section of the road which is One Way, but daily ignored by the locals, who have worked out that, by going against the flow of traffic, (although there isn’t much of a flow exactly) they save nearly 30 seconds to their destination. For 17 years I have longed to follow their example, but some Anglo-Saxon mindset has prevented me from doing it. Once, after a few glasses of wine, I began to turn in the supposedly forbidden direction, but at the last moment I chickened out and respected the law. I felt a coward and a failure.

However, I must say my admiration of most things Greek, especially the gratification in breaking the rules, sometimes takes a bit of a hammering.  For example, when driving down from Vilia to Elefsina behind a huge, posh BMW, I see plastic bottles, cigarette packets and various other bits and pieces come flying out of the window to join the pile of rubbish already littering the street. Now, that’s a bit naughty in my book.

Ah, well, you can’t have everything.