Aeroplanes and fishing rods
I pressed my nose against the bus window as it left the gate heading to the plane, dragging me along with it. I thought this bus has no opening windows, there is no escape route, I can only go forward now.
The plane was standing tall right in front of me, it smirked and mumbled "not another drama of a holiday tourist leaving Greece" and I looked at it in disapproval raising my left ginger eyebrow.
I walked up the unstable ladder and i thought.. if i was to stage an accident, I won’t have to leave Greece, but on a second thought I thought this is not a good idea.
I sat in my seat quietly observing fellow passengers battling with their carry on luggage whilst looking at their neighbours as if it were all their fault.
I had no desire to argue with anyone. I wanted to leave Greece with great memories the same way my journey had began.
I looked outside that little window observing the blue sky and the sun blasted hill tops. I couldn't stop wondering whether this weather will also catch the same plane to London. I looked at the date on my phone and quickly answered my own question...
The flight was fairly short, England was pulling this plane as if it was hooked on a fishing rod and it was reeling it in close to her . Every time it tried to escape it will drag it back to it's course. Why do we have auto pilots I wondered since this mechanism with fishing rods is as efficient? A few hours later we landed in London, I was thinking maybe if i stay still and lower myself in my seat the cabin crew may take me back to Athens? Very shortly my neighbours nudge me to get passed.. whats the rush? As I got up I looked outside my window and guess what? The weather did catch the same plane to London after all! London was sunny with its trademark grey clouds scattered in the sky. The sun was playing hide and seek.. “now you see me now you don’t”. I thought the sun should know better at this age and just stay still, but what do I know?
On the journey back home I was observing every little detail as if I was a first time visitor to London. The little houses with the old roofs, bricks everywhere, every colour and every age. London offers lovely architecture if you are into old, multicolour brickwork, sash timber windows, red letterboxes etc.
A Greek friend of mine always exclaimed: “In London, for a house to have value, it should come with a few ghosts, and green moss growing on the bricks outside”. And although it may sound extreme but its pretty true. The older the better as fas as the housing market goes.
I arrived at home, “Little Robin” was still tucked away behind the front tall hedge, when I saw the roof I was relived, “Little Robin” hadn’t abandoned me. Despite I had left him here alone for over a month, “Little Robin” was waiting for me to return. At that point I wondered how can I introduce “Little Robin of London” to “Thiseas of Athens” how can I get these two to meet? Pretty difficult I guess. I walked up the steps and opened the front gate, my fish in the pond screamed with excitement “He is alive, he is back” I looked at them all and thought, no casualties! Great! I smiled at them and walked in to my house.
From the moment I opened the door, I looked at “Little Robin” and had tears in my eyes. It doesn’t matter how much I moan and complaint about London. You are beautiful, not as beautiful as people make it but nevertheless beautiful to the ones that know how to enjoy it.
It took a few hours and Athens was fighting with London to take a dominant position in my head. There is no need I whispered, “you are both very special”