Peter Bromhead: Greek philosophy

Illustration / Peter Bromhead

My first experience of how philosophically Greeks deal with a crisis happened some years ago, when I was staying in a small hotel on Poros, an island in the Southern Saronic Gulf.

The hotel, a modern concrete shell built in a style similar to a parking building, seemed pleasant enough, not that I cared, having arrived late one evening after a gruelling journey from Sydney via Athens.

Jetlagged, my only thought was a quick shower and bed.

Once in the shower, I lingered longer than usual beneath the steaming water, until I became aware of shouting, and knocking on my unit door.

Towel wrapped, I cautiously opened the door and was greeted by a hotel waiter.

He seemed polite but agitated, and wanted to know if I had finished showering. Presuming there must be a hot water shortage, I apologised and confirmed I'd completed my ablutions.

He thanked me and scuttled off, leaving me to go to bed slightly bemused by the incident.

The following morning I sought out breakfast.

The dining area was a light and airy space dominated by bright blue window shutters and an unusual number of large pot plants scattered between the tables.

I was facing up to bacon and eggs that had arrived Greek style, in a deep dish swimming in olive oil, when water started dripping from the ceiling close to my table.

The waiters immediately became very excited and swiftly moved my table, placing one of the large pot plants under the water flow.

About 10 minutes later it happened again, in the far corner of the restaurant, and the process of moving tables and pot plants was repeated.

When I enquired about the oddity, the waiter, who appeared to be straight out of Fawlty Towers, shrugged his shoulders and said that it was merely guests overflowing the showers upstairs.

This explained the agitated knock on my door the night before.

I was moving on later that day, catching a ferry to Spetses, so I have no idea how the problem was eventually resolved, if it ever was.

If I visit Poros again, I would expect to find the pot plants still being watered in the same unorthodox manner, reflecting the locals' way of coping with such problems.

Needless to say, I wouldn't expect a group of stony-faced European bankers to remotely understand.