The plaster-cast heads of Dionysus were back. The unblinking blue Mati evil eyes and Parthenon refrigerator magnets hung once more outside the souvenir shops of Plaka and Monastiraki, where shopkeepers tended to rows upon rows of leather sandals, silver meander rings, dried spices and Cretan mountain tea. The tourists were back, too, if not quite so many as one might expect in the historic heart of Athens on a similarly brilliant, blue June day of years past.
They strolled Pandrossou Street in their masks, filling the restaurant terraces that line the sinuous alleyways of the Psiri neighborhood as the sun set to share plates of mashed fava beans, grilled octopus and Greek salad. The streets hummed with the din of voices and clinking glasses, but no music. Music would not be allowed for one more week. The masks were mostly off now, revealing contented, sun-dazzled faces — and maybe the slightest flicker of lingering unease. » | Charly Wilder | Thursday, July 1, 2021
