Well, last night it took me forever to decide not to go out clubbing. I felt like I was letting myself down by not going. I've been telling myself a lot lately that you only live once. But I didn't want to be so tired tomorrow that I couldn't enjoy the day. So in the end I settled for staying up late anyway, drinking a glass of wine, and finishing the novel I've been reading, "An American Tragedy", which again had me close to tears several times. The harrowing, emotional climax, with the protagonist on death row, plumbs the meaning of existence. Since I knew from the back cover that he would be executed, I've been turning to the book with a mixture of dread and fascination. You enter into the mind of an essentially decent but weak man who knows he's going to die, and wrestle with him as he tries to come to terms with the great wrong he committed. It's really one of the best books I've ever read - offering an exact understanding of the human heart, with all its sly self deception.

Another sparkling, generously warm day, with the weather feeling so much like San Francisco. After another huge breakfast (this time I overate like a pic), I took a cab to the furnicular that leads to the the summit of Lycabettus, Athen's tallest hill. I was lucky enough to find a cabbie who speaks excellent English. He was very smartly dressed and wore expensive sunglasses. His English, he said, came courtesy of his Scottish wife. I asked if she has a strong accent. He said no, but, oof, his mother in law does. I asked him if business would be down in the Summer given they're shutting down central Athens to traffic. He said he didn't care because he'd been hired by NBC to shuttle their staff about town. Good for him.

Passing time with the International Herald Tribune while waiting for the furnicular.

When I'm in a happy mood, I tend to whistle all the time, whatever tune happens to be stuck in my head. And this time it's the catch little folk tune that rattles off everytime you step into the elevator at my hotel. It's so catchy it almost makes me want to start a little jig in the elevator car. But it's a sad elevator, it talks to itself all the time. When the elevator arrives, it takes forever to open up the door, and while you're waiting you can hear it's mournful voice repeating "Iximos Ephenos" (or whatever) - "Fifth floor", even though surely it knows there's nobody in the cab to hear it.

I'm slowly developing a taste for the looks of Greeks. The younger ones are slim, with perfect, fair skin and glossy black hair. Once they reach 30, though, they seem to get fat and hairy. The men also.

On top of Lycabbetus. You can see the Acropolis in the middle distance.

Anyway. Soon I was atop the hill, where, of course, there's a spectacular view, including the sea and distantly towering mountains. Apart from enjoying the view, there's not much else to do; you can have an espresso or lunch; or you can do what I did - go hiking over the neighboring craggs, and sunbathe in the nude on a secluded plateau. The fresh breeze and the warm sun felt delicious.

Afterwards, I strolled through fashionable Kolonaki, and had lunch outside, in an alley lined with outdoor cafes filled with mostly men talking and, of course, smoking. The only disturbing thing was the sight of 10 year olds selling cigarettes table to table. The price for my lunch was a surprising $25.00 - I guess Greece isn't cheap anymore. There was a suspicious number of unknown extra tiny items on my bill, but since it was all in Greek, I decided just to pay up.

A guard at the National Parliament building

In the afternoon, I'd wanted to go to the Archeological Museum, which has the foremost collection of Greek antiquities in the world, despite the rapaciousness of Imperial England. But, like so many other things, it was closed for pre-Olympics renovation. So I thought I'd go to the Acropolis Museum. But as I approached the towering hill from the South, I decided my knees weren't up for another hike up there. And besides, it too might be closed. So I toured, instead, the Ancient Agorra; not to be confused with the Roman Agorra I'd seen yesterday - I talked to an Athenian today and even he didn't know there were too Agorras. He also said he'd never been to the Acropolis.

In the Ancient Agorra, with the Temple of Hephaestus behind me

The site is mainly an extensive, low-lying set of ruins, columns, and piles of stone set amidst trees and overgrown grass. As the sun started to disappear behind gathering clouds, and the wind got up, there was a mournful aspect to the site. The 11th century Church of the Holy Apostles is also on the site, and it's affecting in it's plain simplicity. The museum ... was closed, of course, for renovations.

The Temple again, with the Acropolis just visible between the first two columns

I'd intended to go to the gym in the evening, but once I'd gotten back to my hotel to get my stuff, there was a phone message from a guy named Panos with whom I'd been playing email tag. So we agreed to meet up for a coffee. We arranged to meet outside my hotel, and I was shocked by how goodlooking he was; masculine, powerfully built, dressed in a tight-fitting motorcycle jacket (unlike mine, his is not just for show), with broad features, sensuous lips and large, brown eyes. He was originally from Crete, but had lived in England for many years, so he had a rather queer accent. We hit it off immediately, and had great, animated conversation.

He chided me for the coyness of my profile on Gaydar.com, saying that the way I'd worded it sounded like I wasn't interested in sexual relations. I tried to explain to him that I'm not a nun, but that I don't like to meet people just for the purpose of having sex. But if sex naturally progresses from meeting someone I like, then I'll let that happen. And that's what happened shortly thereafter.

And now, in what for Athens is still early evening (9.40 p.m.), I'm heading out to meet Alex, the guy I met yesterday, for a drink. This is my last evening in Athens, sigh.