2026 GREEK TRAVEL ADVENTURE: Short Attention Span Version:10September2026: Arrival in Athens: A Shitstorm is brewing

I’ve arrived in Athens. Passport control awaits as I tread with spritely footsteps passport in hand. I have returned to Greece!

Wait what are three hundred people doing in a large room with lanes of people cordoned in horizontal rows? What are there so few immigration officials checking passports and biometrically imaging your eyes. Why are countless machines idle that could be speeding up the process. One moment you are far away from the golden dorado of an immigration officer then close enough to swell with hope. Like gulag prisoners we trudge slowly along.

When there is nothing much to do why not talk about Donald J. Trump with a fellow Canadian, a retired diplomat. Most Canadians acknowledge the fetor and hateful imprecations of Trump directed toward Canada. The USA is whupping Iranian asses. Lake Ontario is Lake America. Canada to be the 51st state with its Prime Minister its first governor. Russian oligarch funding of a Trump family wedding. All Americans to receive a bribe of $5,000 for voting in Republicans in the upcoming mid term elections. A preternatural President! Well at least he’s a topic of conversation!

Finally, the escape to collect my suitcase and yet another 45-minute wait. A Greek fellow flying home from Manchester, awaiting his suitcase for two hours tells me Greeks are wonderful people but its government and Athens Aiport administration are irresponsible.

Passport control at the Athens airport fails to meet appropriate international standards and is not an appropriate way to greet tourists a prime source of revenue for Greece.

This is not the way to start a Greek vacation but matters are to deteriorate further!

Photo: R. Kennedy Stephen

RKS IRISH American Literature: Food Money, Sex and Health in Ireland (J.P. Donleavy)

That’s what I like about Ireland, so open about hatreds. I guess all I want out of this life is a decent fire in the grate, a rug on the floor and a comfortable chair to sit and read. And just a few quid I don’t have to slave for and mix with people with money, not, I may add, in your exact circumstances, Dangerfield. But Jesus, when you don’t have any money, the problem is food. When you have money, it’s sex. When you have both it’s health, you worry about getting a rupture or something. If everything is simply jake then you’re frightened of death.

J.P. Donleavy, “The Ginger Man”, 1955

2026 GREEK TRAVEL ADVENTURE: Short Attention Span Version: On the way: More airline pig slop and 9 1/2 hours of boredom Toronto to Athens 9September2026

On the way: More Airline Pig Slop and 9 ½ Hours of Boredom Toronto to Athens: 9September2026

I was last in Greece three years ago to cover the Thessaloniki International Film Festival. I have been visiting Greece since 1971 and the Greece of 1971-73, before the tourist boom, envelops my fondest memories. In the face of time no country remains the same and, in some cases, quickly loses its charm particularly when destroyed by the cruise ships and its thousands of ice cream half day tourists descending like swarms of locusts on “excursions”. Greece like many European destinations is victimized by the cruise ship scourge. Mobs of fanny packers wide eyed with wonder following their leader with a flag on a pole or an umbrella with headsets listening to “words of wisdom”.

Off to Pearson Airport in Toronto for my early evening flight to Athens. Gave a last cuddle to Rory Dylan Stephen, my West Highland Terrier, just past his first birthday. I give the little guy assurances all will be well and with my son and his girlfriend in charge no worries. Well almost no worries.

The UBER fare was astronomical to the airport. Surge pricing and a bevy of extra charges. UBER is becoming like airlines with a base fare and endless add ons. My driver was listening to a podcast on AI centres and the huge amount of energy and water required to operate them. An enormous ecological challenge. A recent arrival from Egypt he is an information technology engineer and an UBER driver on the side.

Check in and security is done in a flash in Toronto unlike the hellish entry and departure from Athens, but more about that later.

I noticed in security a woman with enormous breasts being frisked and giggling when patted down by a female security officer noting, “You’re ticklish aren’t you!” Bizarre.

My flight was over sold. Have you ever been on an international flight that was not sold out? An announcement was made give up your seat and you get a travel voucher for $2,000 a night in a nearby hotel and meal vouchers. Careful what you wish for. I had a colleague years ago visiting Toronto from Boston on business and due to lack of downtown Toronto hotel space she stayed in a vile and filthy “near the airport hotel”.

Awaiting me was an ancient Air Canada Boeing with pale blue and white streaky colours in the cabin matching its bathroom blue exterior. Why Air Canada changed its distinctive red and white fuselage colours to bathroom blue years ago is beyond me.

Thank goodness I had purchased a bulkhead seat for my long legs and mental sanity.

I had forgotten I had ordered a Hindu Vegetarian Meal. Absolute pig slop; a glutinous blob of rice with three tiny chunks of tofu and a few frozen peas. A slight tinge of curry. The corn, lima bean and red pepper salad was half frozen. An indistinguishable coconut type of dessert. I didn’t have the heart to try a rock-hard white roll also half frozen. I could only bear a few mouthfuls of the warm pig slop. Luckily, I had packed celery and some apple slices. Breakfast was strawberry yogurt and a highly processed cranberry loaf with a foot long description of ingredients probably so unhealthy you wouldn’t feed it to a pig. I recall reading a newspaper article years ago that airline economy food was cheaper to prepare than prison food in the United States.

Can you sleep on a long airplane flight in economy? My head kept bobbing downwards then jerking up suddenly probably to avoid breaking my neck.

My earphones were missing a little rubber earplug insert so I was unable to watch a film or listen to music. Airline headsets are pathetic so best to do without. Thank goodness I had a book, J.P. Donleavy’s “The Ginger Man” a portrait of a nasty, boozing philanderer in fact one of the biggest anti-heroes of modern literature.

Thoroughly bored and fatigued we touched down in Athens at 13:30 to face airport hell at passport control an example of the Athens airport’s inability to efficiently process passengers.

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): “Observations”

Observations

I sit watching a parody of fools

Spitting out hope

The janitors of our conscience

Excreting promises siphoned off by the masses

I’ll chuckle as the lasso

Of endless circles

Traps its unsuspecting

Ambitions

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): “Hope”

Hope

You-

Held me spellbound

Freshness

Not of plastic standardized perfection

Your smiles in my direction were of courtesy

Civility

And cultured background

I tried to touch you but you needed everybody

Those surly ugly butchers of your beauty

Oblivious to you

They thundered over you

Leaving hoofprints on me

Ripping and agonizing torture

I tried to heal

You pushed me roughly aside

but you knew

didn’t you?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): “Hysterical Silence”

Hysterical Silence

Majestic craggy mysticism

Awe inspiring

Timeless

Proud

Towering over the Ken and Barbie dwarfs

With the $19.99 Polaroid imaginations

Snapping like spoilt poodles (left at the four-star kennel)

Soon their blind eyes tire

Such strenuous activity!

They can see the damn things on their screens anyways

Now it’s off to air-conditioned retreats

Of polyester and synthetic leather

Deodorized compartments of the living dulled

Down the road another viewpoint

More innocent corrupted children

Chocolate smeared

Stuffed at the simulated logger’s camp

“all you can eat”

Belly protruding leader of the pack

Bermuded intelligence office instinct

Hunter of the high dividend

Bought wife with gold and diamonds

That mean so much and even more to neighbours

And all gather at the lookout

Objects of mockery that they are

The silent massifs roar

In hysteria

 kings and queens of it all

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): “The hunter”

The hunter

Gentleman they say

Kill at the office

Or in the fields all day

It really matters they say

The show them you are the boss of your way

Like the sheep they hunt there must be leaders or the flock will stray

It is really this way

For them animal and man are eaten off the same tray

But they

Proud self-proclaimed hunters are the crawling Lyme Disease tics

Sucking the blood of the innocent

But virginity is meant to be given away

As innocence is in its dying day

The façade of coexistence will fade away

And the angry will rip the leader parasites off their backs

And hurl them

Under the wheels of angry tricycles

Robert K. Stephen

RKS British Literature: Jojo the Scottish Lady (John Fowles)

I saw a round cheeked face, no make-up. A fringe of brown hair pigtailed at the back, thick eyebrows, very dirty fingernails holding a fag-end. When the lights went on and we waited for the next feature she tried, with a really pitiable amateurishness to pick me up. She was dressed in jeans, a grubby grey polo necked sweater, a very ancient man’s duffel coat; but she had three queer asexual charms – a face splitting grin, a hoarse Scots accent, and an air of such solitary sloppiness that I saw in her at once both a kindred spirit and somebody worthy of a modern Mayhew.

John Fowles, “The Magus”, 1977.

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): “One of the many”

One of the many

Being a Party member is a responsibility

We serve the people with our utmost ability

So to say we obtain the privileges of an aristocrat nobility

Is sheer and scheming capitalistic negatively

We serve our mighty land and people

Merely a gunshot away as Beria would say

We labour day and night in offices located anywhere including Georgia

The wonderful Land of Comrade Stalin,

To the cold little town of Aldan

Just because we have a five-room flat off the square

Shows how much the people for me do care

My Zil with a chauffeur

Is provided precisely because I am no loafer

After all transportation is required to meet with foreign ministers like Iranian minister Soffer

I’m nothing but a hard-working man

So why the comments about my Black Sea tan

And that expensive Swiss made electric fan

My suits from France are needed for an occasional diplomatic prance

Not for my own personal prestige to enhance

Being so terribly busy we have our own stores

Not because of corrupt mores

That some of you suggest makes us rotten to the cores

We are still members of the proletarian kind

And your accusations are but a fragment of a duped mind

To say to bourgeoise lifestyles we have fell

I respectfully say you can go to hell

Ask any of our folk

Suggest to them we have special privileges they’ll take it as an ill joke

And perhaps issue you a warning poke

We are no different than them

Our happy citizens would heartily agree

If not do you think I’d expel them to the cold Siberian degree

It’s this Solzhenitsyn chap causing so much flap

With his groundless crap

But our censors were on the rap

So he was liquidated from our map

Every citizen is free like me

Oh why can’t you see through all this propaganda of the CIA

And for once agree with me

All we do is administer

And the skilled like me become a Politburo minister

What in the hell is so sinister!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds); “The Visit”

The visit (at an LTC Facility)

A Mercedes parks just off the main entrance

A sleek and well-heeled man emerges from within

Treading along feeling so fine with his charitable act

He visits once a year

 At the “welcome desk” he is advised his father is not yet Prepared

And would he kindly wait a minute

He sits in a masqueraded urine occupied air

Poor soaked creatures he muses

Crouched in drugged stupors

Like dangerous animals

But Old Pop was in much better shape

But he had once been so busy in the textile mill

Inherited by the son

Too busy to worry excessively about dear old Dad

A Nurse gestures, it is time to see him

Into Dad’s room they venture

Blankly to stare at a living vegetable

With the killing weeds a creeping

Astonished at dear Dad’s decline he laughs

Couldn’t they insert a tube or something

After all he’s shelling out 6 Grand a month

And little Ronnie wants a Corvette

Dad senses his concerned son and motions him to approach

Whispers in his ear, SELFISH BASTARD and expires

Robert K. Stephen