A mellow day at the lake

I spent the morning at Athens' Jewish Museum, partly out of a sense of loyalty, partly because the Lonely Planet called it one of the most important Jewish museums in Europe and partly because out of the hundreds of thousands of Jews who were living in Greece at the start of the second world war - and who had thrived in the country since 300BC - more than 97% were transported to death camps in 1944 and murdered by the Germans and their Bulgarian allies.

Unfortunately, after the joys of the Benaki Museum, the Jewish museum was (a) dusty, (b) badly lit and (c) often quite uninspired. There were some beautiful items from happier times and poignant ones from the Holocaust - I especially liked the collection of tickets and passes that traced a camp survivor's journey back from eastern Europe to her home town in Greece - but, for me, the museum didn'y really do them justice, which was a shame.


I spent the rest of the day at a very nice place, though. South of Athens, after you have passed all the little beaches (and a fair few swanky marinas), you get to the end of a bus line and big natural lake that sits, surrounded by rocky cliffs, just back from the coast. The water is a mixture of salty and fresh, is at a constant 28C and is perfect for lazy swimming.


The place has a bit of a sanitorium feel about it as apparently the mineral mix is good for you and the clientele are mostly older people and families out with gran. You pay your entrance (6 euros) and then you can loll around on chairs and sun loungers and take a dip whenever you fancy. Waiters come round and bring drinks and snacks and the whole thing is very mellow and civilised.


There's an easy slope into the water, plus some steps and a lift for wheelchair users, and once you are in you paddle out into the middle and sort of pootle around for a while. The water is silky and smooth and you don't really want to make an effort. Fast swimming doesn't really happen here and is proabably non-de rigueur. The most rebellious anyone gets is nipping across the line of buoys that separate the swimmers from the 'dangerous' waters near the cliff edge.


There is, however, an unexpected treat when you first get in. A school of little black cleaner fish, no more than 4cm or 5cm long, lurk around the steps and if you stay still they will descend on your feet and give you a pedicure, nibbling away at all the dead skin and leaving you, like the water, smooth and silky. The feeling is about a micron away from unbearable, like being continually tickled by someone who refuses to stop. But, if you can get over that, it is actually quite pleasant and there's no doubt that, after eight weeks' wearing flip flops, my feet could do with some attention.


I really enjoyed this lake and I wish I could remember what it is called. (I'll update this post tomorrow or the next day when I have found its name again.) It was an unexpected way to say goodbye to a city I feel I have only just begun to get to know. I'm sure I'll be back. Greece has always been something of a mystery to me bit now, just as when you meet a new person and have the feeling good things will come of it, I think there will be some interesting times here up ahead.


In the meantime, tomorrow I get the train to Patras (which, half of the time, appears to be called Patra - another Greek mystery I haven't been able to unravel) and from there an overnight boat to Bari, which is home, apparently, of one of my favourite pasta dishes: orecchiette with anchovies and broccoli. After that Bologna, Paris and the Eurostar to St Pancras. But all of that is to come. In the meantime, I am going to brave the hostel rooftop and have one last beer looking out over the Acropolis.