I recently returned to Greece after a visit to Australia, and my dreams are now predictably featuring anxiety and loss: I'm on my way to the airport, and I have nothing. No keys, no money, no tickets, no passport. In daylight hours I'm acutely aware of the contrasts between Greece and Australia, and am having to cope with what has been called the solitary pang of the expatriate. I am also nagged by the thought that to say goodbye is to die a little.
But this will not do, and so in Athens I try to concentrate on the here and now. Out in the street a tall black African walks towards me. His lime-green T-shirt is vivid against his dark skin, and I smile at the motto spread across his chest: Another sunny day in Paradise.
But my smile is rueful. It is sunny in this place, in this beautiful autumn, but as for the rest ... It's still a case of Bleed, bleed, poor country. People are going about their business with what seems to be an air of resignation, and I recall yet again the enduring nature of the Greeks, their pragmatism and fatalism. And their courage.
But, said a taxi driver, we are all tired. Daughter-in-law Nina, when asked about this, replied We are simply frozen, waiting to see what will happen next.
What has already happened is evidence of numerous serpents in Paradise.
Athens seems more run down and seedier than ever: broken pavements have proliferated, and so have the empty shops, while the human cost of the ongoing krisi is evident in the increased beggar population, and the number of homeless in the streets. Pensioners are demonstrating in protest against new measures that will almost certainly make their lives harder.
I arrived back in Greece just after the most recent election, which featured a very low turnout of voters, but saw Alexis Tsipras returned as prime minister. At the same time, the poor performance of the previously powerful parties New Democracy and PASOK reflected the public's disillusionment with old-style dynastic politics.
But of course there is always something, as a friend says, and the worst something, a threatening serpent indeed, was the increased strength of Golden Dawn, the neo-fascist party that ten years ago counted for virtually nothing. The party gained another two seats and remains the third most powerful party in the parliament, despite the fact that six leaders have