A friend of
mine who is something of an epicure has just spent a week or so in Barcelona
where, as anyone knows, there is excellent cuisine to be had, even at the lower
end of the price range. Nevertheless, I was astonished - and a little envious -
when he reported that he had enjoyed a three-course lunch - with wine - for a
very reasonable €8.00 (£5.86 or $8.72 at today’s rates). I paid more than that
for a sandwich at Manchester airport last week.
I was
waiting for a flight to Athens, where my partner and I are now sitting out the
“festive” period in an apartment in Piraeus, living like the locals: except
that we can’t speak Greek and have only the faintest idea of how the locals
conduct their lives. News reports back home give the impression that they are
mostly unemployed and up to their ears in debt but I’m sure the picture is more
complex than that. From our terrace we can see plainly the constant procession
of ships bearing cargo and passengers to and from the port, a promising if
anecdotal indicator of rude commercial health. In any case there are plenty of
restaurants, ouzeries and tavernas open for business; plenty of scope for an
eight euro lunch, I would have thought.
We dipped
our toes in the water at one such, jammed between the fishmongers lining a back
street near the port: it was inexpensive but not close to the benchmark. In one
sense, however, we did get more than we bargained for. A man, perhaps in his
thirties, and a boy, possibly his four-year-old son, came and took a table
nearby. The waitress brought them drinks and snacks, the man lit a cigarette and
the boy, already bored, wandered about, practising moves with his plastic
sword. Seeing the boy’s need for distraction, the man pulled two small crabs
from one of his bags of shopping, placed them on an empty chair and encouraged
the boy to beat them with his sword until they stopped moving which,
mercifully, they soon did. Meanwhile the waitress reappeared and watched
admiringly for a minute or two. At last the man put the leaking crabs back into
the bag and wiped the chair down with a napkin.
There are
questions to be asked here: whether the man should be encouraging the boy to be
violent; whether the spectacle was “tasteless” given the proximity of diners;
whether there is such a thing as cruelty to crustaceans and, if so, whether
there is pertinent legislation; and whether I should have raised an objection
on any or all of these grounds. On this last I admit to timidity on account of
being a cultural outsider: but if I had not been?
If this
incident is seen as representative of the cultural differences ingrained in the
various communities that make up the EU, then it is easy to see that
pan-European legislation will inevitably be controversial. The wearing of seat
belts and crash helmets, for example, is mandatory throughout the EU but Greeks
appear to have an opt-out clause on this, just as they do on the paying of
taxes. And as for smoking! Part of our “live like the locals” project involves
shopping for groceries, to which end we ventured into a small butcher’s shop
nearby not noticing, until it was too late, that the old man in charge was
smoking a cigarette underneath the turkeys hung above him. Perhaps more
up-to-date habits of health and safety will prevail once the older generation
dies off but, until then, if you want to experience cultural difference, then
you take the rough with the smooth.
I’m still
working on “the challenge”, by the way, but have managed to set another
meanwhile: a three-course lunch in a Michelin starred restaurant for €30 (wine not included). You have to put up with
smokers at the next table, mind you.
Fishermens' chapel, Piraeus |
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