Not quite ready to leave this fascinating mess of a country I am nevertheless headed home – with a quick pit-stop in London en route. I feel like I’m going kicking and screaming. Or maybe I should phrase that as eating and drinking. Determined to ingest a last few bits of Greece I scarf down a piece of baklava in the Athens lounge and drink copiously on the Aegean flight to Heathrow. As well I should: opportunity, I’ve learned, is not a lengthy visitor.
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