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Looking away from the Acropolis, from the limestone outcroppings on Nymph Hill. This used to be a busy, developed part of ancient Athens, and now mostly pine trees, rocks, and archeological traces are visible in the quiet space high above the current city.
Taken from the same location as above: two photos looking across the valley to the Acropolis from Nymph Hill.
On the museum's street, a model doing a photo shoot is prepped by her handlers. She is very tall, and has that required blasé look. >> 
<< And I just had to take a picture of the imaginative bathroom tap in the Museum restroom. The square handle both twists and pivots. Since when does a sink need to look like a sink?
Had a quick sandwich before catching the bus, and puzzled the kind young woman who served me by photographing my cross-cultural plate. It's "Japanese" except that it mixes seasons (plum blossoms with maple leaves?), the flowers are splashed on with conflicting oranges and pinks, and there's no apparent sense of subtlety or symmetry. For 4 euros, still a serviceable plate, nonetheless. >>
Stocked up at the Saturday market behind Alba's building. One man over charged me, everyone else was game about my lack of Greek. Got some local eggs and wildflower honey. And was happy to spot bundles of purslane, the weed I pick out of my front garden in abundance, and sometimes use in soups or omlettes. Look, it really IS a vegetable!
A few hours on the beach -- windy and warm today. The water sparkling and alive.
The local rock --crumbly red sandstone intermixed with limestone.
I've always thought the art print of Greece in my sunroom has too many cats--cutesy rather than artistic. Now I find that only 3 cats isn't very many. These feral ones have a full waterbowl set out for them on the Vouliagmeni headland. >>
Walked up the 20+ minutes to the headland at the end of my road tonight. I took a photo of the sunset, but out of courtesy, not of the lovers smooching, the family licking ice cream cones, a mother with a newborn, or the toothless grandmother hugging her grandson of 11 or 12 and smoothing his hair. You had to be there.
Some Plaka graffiti:
©2006 Jennifer Beer
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