Sir: Noel Malcolm's fascinating article on the modern Greek 'identity
neurosis' reminded me of an experience over 30 years ago when I was commissioned to organise a public relations campaign for the Greek National Tourist Office, an opti- mistic enterprise in regard to Britain as Greek Cypriots were then waging war on our troops.
I believe I was acceptable only because my family motto is, unusually, in Greek some sort of archaic pun — and on my arrival in Athens sundry junior bureaucrats were sent scurrying to find Hellenic origins for my (Swiss) surname. They came up with Doxiades, which made them happy. While this was going on, I was told to spend a few days acquainting myself with Athens and to report, with total candour, on anything that needed to be put right to encourage tourists from both Britain and the United States. I duly recorded, amongst more detailed considerations, that public lavato- ries appeared non-existent, every street sign, hotel notice or restaurant menu was exclusively in Greek characters and the rude police and other officials spoke no other language, and the standard of food was extremely poor. My reception was courteously dismissive. I was informed that Greece was the inventor of sanitation, the mother of language and of education in alien tongues, the originator of haute cui- sine, and all officials — indeed all Greeks — were models of polite behaviour. I should pursue my investigations with greater thoroughness.
I got the message. After a few more days' sightseeing, which did not change my opin- ions one jot, I returned to explain that first impressions (probably another Greek achievement) could indeed be false: Athens had unrivalled facilities, its officials were models of efficient amity and masters of English apart from other languages, bilin- gual menus (I never found one) were the general rule and the food was veritable ambrosia, meriting accompaniment by exquisite Greek wines. I was congratulated on my good taste and everything went swimmingly thereafter. I had a splendid free holiday — without the slightest benefit to the eventual boom in Greek tourism.
John Doxat
Kitscroft, 17 Grand Avenue, Camberley, Surrey
'Me Darby. You Joan.'
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