In the Shade of the Monkey Puzzle Tree Read Online Free PDF

similar to the last, lined with parked cars, stunted trees planted in the middle of the narrow, cracked pavements and the buildings so high, the sun ’s rays do not reach the road. Theo misses the expanses of blue sky already. The buildings are grey, the road is grey, and the pavement is grey.
    The road turns again, a hill visible at the end, and high above, with a background of blue sky, is the Acropolis. He freezes in motion. It seems unbelievable to see in real life the building he drew pictures of, as a boy, in school. At school, he learnt about its construction, how the columns are subtly barrel-shaped to give the illusion of perfect straightness and how the floor is gently domed, raised in the centre to give the illusion of being perfectly flat. It made no sense at the time, nor does it now, but the monument itself is stunning. He has seen posters of it in Saros, and it regularly appears in national newspapers and on the television news. But there it is, in real life, glowing in the sun, a dazzling white, mounted on an outcrop of rock, atop a hill. Cypress trees planted all around point up to its magnificence. The Acropolis.
    It seems smaller than he imagined.
    Lifting his newspaper to shade the sun ’s glare in his eyes, Theo looks at the street signs and then his directions scribbled on the newspaper, and then at the hill to the ancient ruin. It would only take half an hour, a quick climb, a close-up look, start living life right now and then back down. Tucking the paper under his arm, he hurries directly towards it, his hair bouncing wildly with his excited steps. The apartment blocks soon give way to double-storey houses and then old single-storey dwellings of whitewashed stone as he approaches. Goats wander the hillside above these, in a setting that is oddly rural. Theo blinks at the sight of them, their clonking bells drowning out the distant traffic. He shrugs; they have to graze somewhere. He thinks of Mitsos who has a herd he takes past the kafeneio every day. Breathing deeply with the exertion, he moves even faster.
    Flares flapping as he continues to climb, he can feel sweat trickling down his back. The ancient temple grows in stature the nearer he gets. The last part of the climb is steep, his breath coming in gasps. Then he is atop the hill and the Parthenon stands before him, bigger than he could ever have imagined. The individual white stones are enormous, the scale making everything he has seen so far in Athens dwindle in comparison. His hands clench and unclench, his fingers fan out, and he can feel his heart beating in his chest. Walking up the worn steps, he can visualise his robed ancestors doing the same. He tilts his head back, his back straightening, his chin lifting. It is more majestic than he ever would have imagined. If his baba could see him now.
    The mark he would like to make in society, the tiny dot he wishes to call his life, is infinitesimal compared to this noble building that is the remaining testament to so many stone masons and architects from all those years ago. Such a tiny dot must be easy to achieve, maybe, seeing as men, not so different to him, built the Acropolis. Chattering interrupts his thoughts.
    In the middle of the open area between the pillars is a tourist group. The American twang draws his attention, reminds him of Damianos, the two of them half a world away from each other, both setting out on their own. He looks over to the group.
    They are young, students perhaps. Most of them are wearing flares, but two of the girls have skin-tight shiny trousers on. One is wearing an all-in-one outfit—blouse and trousers of the same shiny material, with the trousers flared so much Theo at first thinks it is a skirt. The colours are so bright and daring, you would never see a Greek girl dressed in such a way. Or perhaps you would, in Athens? A man in a brown suit, with a clipboard, is trying to get the girls’ attention. It is another world.
    Theo knows that in the scheme of