High life
Plane tales
Taki
Olympic Airways continues to be by far the worst airline in Europe, although the gov- ernment is trying its best to get rid of the fat accumulated during the eight-year klep- tocracy of the Papandreou era. Getting on a flight to an island from Athens is a unique experience. Tempers flare non-stop, Olympic employees take umbrage and walk off the job, leaving ticket-holders high and dry, and pilots have been known to get roughed up by irate passengers once the aircraft has landed safely. (Greeks are hot- tempered, but not hot-tempered enough to beat up a pilot in the air.) Three years ago I witnessed the strangu- lation of a chicken by a female passenger when she was informed that no live animals were allowed on board. Another time, yet another member of the fairer sex got up after take-off and tried to open the door, thinking it was a Greek bus. When I tack- led her she told me she thought flying meant staying on the ground. Two years ago, while travelling to Gene- va with my friend Zographos, three men rushed into the cockpit just as the plane was starting to roll for take-off. Zographos turned the colour of the Libyan flag, but then two of the men came out and sat peacefully next to us. It turned out they were Greek sailors on their way to a con- necting flight with Portugal and they had suddenly got scared. The pilot refused to abort the take-off, grabbed one of them by his tie and told him to crouch next to him and watch how safe flying is. The three Were not even reprimanded, which was just as well, although I hope for their sake they don't pull their stunt on an El-Al flight, where guards shoot first and ask questions after.
Travel by sea is even worse. Ferry-boats are extremely overcrowded, especially dur- ing the peak months, and crews are known to treat travellers not unlike John Gut- freund used to treat his employees — or Tyson the weaker sex. Third-class passen- gers regularly invade the first-class lounge, more often than not accompanied by their goats and other living creatures, such as lice. Crews turn a blind eye. After all, this is the birthplace of selective democracy. Horror stories abound. Needless to say, ever since my father's death, I've only heard about them. The closest I got to one was when my crew picked up a man who had fallen off a ferry going to Hydra, and he tried to thank my captain by making a pass at him. His approach was as unique as Greek travel: 'If I give you a Toyota, one day you will sell it and forget me. If I buy your wife a ring she might lose it and you'll forget me, but if you let me give you a f--, you will never, ever forget it.' So much for the elegant traveller. Alas, I don't even have the time to rub shoulders with such species as I'm stuck in the Big Olive on business. Dealing with banks is far more vulgar than travelling on Greek air- lines and boats, but such are the joys of being a Greek tycoon.
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