I was in a bit of a mess at this stage, as it is not easy when your cosy mat is plucked from underneath you, leaving you confused and angry, and then within a year you had to confront the fact that your child was leaving and you are now on your own. So when Ascala talked me into staying on, as I was adamant to leave, I decided that I will not be a coward, and I will face whatever this escapade brings. After that I settled down nicely, and made it my goal to befriend young Nikos. I had a long letter from Trienkie who was very happy in Holland, and that kept me happy during this time.
Then it was my first day off! Oh my! Weaponed with three bus tickets from Ascala, and written instructions from Dorah as how to get to the Acropolis, I set out full of anticipation for the Kiffisia underground station. On my way there I took note of landmarks the bus passed so that I could get back home if I get lost. It was easy to buy the train ticket, and before long I got off at Monistiraki from where I had to make my way up to the Acropolis. But first I spent some time at Plaka, where scores of interesting little shops entices you to buy. I went into a small shop selling t-shirts to buy something for my small granddaughter, and the owner, a very nice, blond man of about forty who was busy with a German couple, signed me to stay as I prepared to leave. He was very friendly, actually, too friendly, and after I bought some t-shirts, he said that he had a present for me, as he loves South Africans. He then brought out a pair of shorts about six sizes too small for my well rounded bottom. I shook my head, and he then brought out another pair, maybe a size bigger. I was beginning to feel funny, but being in a strange country I just laughed, then he told me that he will feel my hips to get the right size. I shook my head, and he then tried to pull me to the back, to fit the tiny thing on. That was when I really smelled a rat, and I told him to go jump off a mountain, at which he became very bussiness like, and put a st Christopher pendant in my hand, apologizing profusely for thinking me much smaller!
I never got to the Acropolis, as Dorah must have righted where she should have lefted, and I landed up, hot, thirsty and tired in Omonia. I tried to get instructions from dozens of people, but they just smiled and talked back in Greek! Then a well dressed middle-aged man responded in English, and he was also too friendly, and said I must go to his hotel for a drink, and he will then explain to me how to get to the Acropolis! Golly, the thought of me, a forty seven year old granny having two men coming on to me in one day was preposterous and funny, and I burst out laughing, sending the man off in a huff! So I looked for the trainstation and took the train back to Kiffisia. Where I got thoroughly lost again!

When the alarm went off I thought my head was chopped off  and being tortured while my body lay listless and numb. I groaned and straigtened up very carefully, then tiptoed to the kitchenette to put the kettle on, fighting the nausea that was making me feel weak at the knees. After the second cuppa and three painkillers I was feeling a lot better, and made my way down to the kitchen for Ermioni's bottle, but was told that from today on I had to get Nikos, the boy, ready for school.
I heard the screams as I got out of the lift on the bedroom floor, and found the little fiend sitting on the bed, mouth roundly open and sending out screams of such volume I thought it loud enough to wake the whole of Athens. Dorah came in looking haggard, and told me that Nikos had to dress himself, and must be ready and at the gate for the bus at eight. I tried softsoaping, the volume increased, then I tried to bribe him with sweeties, and he spit at me again, the spit landing on my lower arm. My brandy headache was flaming up again, and never one with loads of patience, I neatly rubbed the spit onto his pajama top. Within a split second the child, eyes like saucers, was out of his top, and he even forgot to scream. So I reckoned that another rub on his pants would solve that problem, and it did. But we were at stalemate now, he screaming again, and I was holding my sore head, and when he increased the volume even more, I told him: 'Oh stop it you bally brat!', and thought of my packed bags down in my room. I could not believe that he could master up more volume, but he did, and the Ya-Ya, followed by Dorah, burst into the room, demanding to know whether I was torturing their little god! Nikos poked a finger at me, informing his audience between sobs that I called him a brat. Two pairs of eyes turned to me, and the Ya-Ya started talking fast and furiously to Dorah, who shooed her, and asked me what happened. I had an answer ready and told her that I said 'skat', an Afrikaans word for darling. She believed me, but the Ya-Ya was of sterner stuff, and gave me one menacing look as Dorah pulled her from the room. My empty nest back home never seemed so inviting as at that point in time!
The room was like a toyshop, so I ignored the boy and started looking for things to interest him. I found loads of roadsigns, and little houses and buildings, and little trees and many small cars, so I decided to build a little village. As the village started to take shape, the screams became softer, until Nikos said: 'I want to play!' 'No,no,' I said, 'I don't play with naked boys'. Within minutes the boy was dressed, and we were having quite a good time, when the door opened and the parents plus gran peeped around it, I suppose wondering if I had indeed strangled the child. They were speechless, even the Ya-Ya's face had relaxed! It took some doing to get him fed and on the bus, but I did manage, and took a few more painkillers!

The next two days Ascala walked Ermioni and myself to the park so that I could learn to find my way. Then came the morning that I was to go alone, and by ten I was ready to go, a bitty scared, but the Ya-Ya was up in arms, shouted at Ascala, gave me the most terrifying looks, but Ascala stayed calm, and firmly told her that she was instructed by Dorah to just make sure that I knew the way before letting me go alone. She managed to calm the old lady, but just as I was to go in the lift the Ya-Ya gave one almighty shout of rage and terror, grabbed the pushcart from me, and started shouting at Ascala. I was dumbfounded, and could not understand what was going on. I was even more dumbstruck when Ascala told me to wait, left me alone with the raging Ya-Ya, and came back with a kind of broach, with an eye painted on, and pinned it to the pushcart. She then explained to me that I was not to go anywhere without the evil eye when the Ya-Ya is visiting! Talk about the bally stone-ages!

We were rolling along quite happily, the Ya-Ya having accepted that I am not an imbicile, when I was woken one night at about eleven by a commotion down in the driveway, loud and scary enough to make one look for shelter. I rushed to the window and there highlighted by two strong lamps on the gateposts, was a silver BMW, with a mountain of luggage on the driveway, and draped over this luggage was the figure of a boy, and this boy was, so I thought,  trying to wake the dead with his catterwalling! On her knees next to the screaming child was Dorah, and she was trying to calm him down, but not at all succesfully, and Yannis was walking in circles around the car, drawing deeply on a cigarette as it glowed long and strong in the semi dark. Then the Ya-Ya joined this circus from the top veranda, and I felt my heart plunging to the bottom of my feet! Was this really the right thing to combat the empty nest syndrome? But nothing lasts forever, and after a while the noises got softer as the group disappeared into the lift and up to their bedrooms.
I was now wide awake, my eyes refusing to close, and every nerve in my body shattered! So I got up and packed my suitcases, ready to leave in the morning! I made myself some tea, tried to sleep, then a hot chocolate, sleep still evading me, and then I remembered that Ascala, who was sleeping peacefully all the while, had a bottle of brandy in the cupboard, so I poured half a glass and gulped it down. Nearly died, me not a big drinker, but fell into an instant and very deep sleep.

We had a meal of the most beautifully cooked pork chop, salad, bread and believe it or not, boiled-up spinach with a dash of balsamic and olive oil splurged over, which was very tasty, although I still prefered mine either creamed, or cooked with potatoes and onions, and lots of butter and pepper! I was almost finished eating, when the Ya-Ya suddenly looked at me, and with a halfsmile said: 'Oreia?' I thought she meant do I want more, so I shook my head accordingly, and immediately her smile vanished, and she glowered at me from under her black brows. My brain spinned like a washing machine, and I had a notion that 'oreia' might mean nice or something, so I smiled at her, pointed at my plate and gave her the thumbs-up sign, at which she perked up amazingly, and actually really smiled at me.
After our meal we went for a peep at Ermioni, a lovely little girl of nine months, and after which, halleluja, I was taken to my room to sleep.
But my mind was alert, going over all what happened to me the last week. I knew that this was just the beginning of a new life, and that I will have to rethink the alone road ahead. My brain however decided to quit on my musings and  and I woke up to a beautiful sunray kissing my cheek.
Seven clock I was in the kitchen, where the Ya-Ya was waiting to teach me how to prepare a bottle for Ermioni. As Dorah had done that the previous day, I tried to humour the old dame, but her whole demeanor spoke of distrust in any but her own abilities, so I decided to let her be until I am more aquainted with the house and children.
There then followed the two most boring days, with the gran sitting like a big black statue, knitting, and I had to keep the child busy. Poor little thing, the moment I stopped talking  to her, the Ya-Ya pulled herself to an amazing height, and prompted me into action. I was highly aggravated, and ready to pack my bags, when there was a loud shout from the kitchen, and minutes later the most beautiful black woman glided through the nursery door, grabbed Ermioni and swung her high up in the sky, while the Ya-Ya had a fit! She then explained that she was the housekeeper and had to be back only the next day, but knowing the Ya-Ya, she couln't leave me alone for longer than neccassary.
Ascala was indeed lovely, and I thanked my lucky stars for a person like that, and she proved her worth as a peacemaker and friend in double measures over the next few days, showing me where the park was where I had to take Ermioni in the mornings, telling me about the workings of the household, and assured me that the Ya-ya would be going home to Thesaloniki soon. Sigh!!

The meeting with my employers were to say the least quite strange. First both the captain and Yannis, the man, had to struggle to get me onto the yacht, the little walking bridge between the yacht and the quay very wobbly, and me very scared! Dorah was quite beautiful, very dark like a Turk, and Yannis was very fair, with a deep dimple in his chin. I handshaked with both of them, then went onto my knees to greet the little boy, who gave me a very defying look from two black eyes, then spit me right between the eyes! Yannis plucked out his handkerchief, tried to clean my face, and in the process stuck his finger into my eye. While I was dancing around from pain, trying to stop my nose and eyes from running dry, Dorah was on her knees in front of the boy, and all I could make out was : Aghapimo' and 'nè nè', while the child now stood looking as innocent as a little angel.

This was when I started thinking of running back to my empty nest!
After what felt like hours Dorah was satisfied that the wee angel were crucified enough, and she told him something in Greek, and he walked up to me and in the softest little voice said: Thorry Chrithtina'. He looked so innocent and sorry that I almost forgave him, but thought to myself: 'You little fiend, I will give you a nice little South African  flavoured  education!
After we toasted my joining their family with a glass of red wine, I was put on a taxi to go home and rest, and meet the Ya-Ya [grandmother] and the little girl, Ermioni, while they went for a five-day cruise.
Nearly died! A person who has not crossed Athens in a taxi does not know what fear is! It seemed that if Greek people get behind a steering wheel, they all go mad. No stopstreet, caution sign, or for that matter any sign is honored or shall I say noticed, and I had a bally madman for a driver, shouting what I was sure was obscenities to every car he nearly scrapped! At one stage he jumped out of the taxi to quarrel with another driver who were to his way of thinking, worse than all the other drivers from hell!
But with every nerve in my body on the blink, we at last reached the house in Kiffisia. Imposing! Thought at first it was a small hotel and tried to make the taximan look for the right address. Then a black figure emerged from behind one of the giant gateposts and she waved us in, and I had my first taste of a Greek grandmother. I was given money to pay the man, but the Ya-Ya had other plans, neatly took the money from my outstretched hand, and demanded that the man take my luggage to my room. He was livid, and the two of them had a big fight, and it was the man who had to capitulate, and after all that she still wouldn't pay him. I could not understand a word, but it looked like he was demanding too much money to her way of thinking.
After much quibbling they sorted the money problem, and I was allowed to see my room.
My room was beautiful, with a kitchenette and showerroom that I had to share with the housekeeper. A big bunch of flowers cheered me up immensely, and I later found that the housekeeper put it there. Then we were off again, this time to the kitchen, modern and as big as any respectable hotel's. The Ya-Ya went in front, and after entering the kitchen, she told me: 'Clisto di porta!', and when I didn't move, she passed me with a lot of tongue-clicking and closed the door! Ok!! She then cooked a beautiful pork chop each after which I had trouble keeping my eyes open.

flee the empty nest

The flight on Olympic air to Greece was full of quite funny incidents, not thought so at that point in time, but on retrospect. I was hungry and very thirsty, as I had only one cuppa that whole day, and when the hostess asked whether I would like something to drink, I decided on red wine, so as to relax my tensed-up nerves as well as quenching my thirst. When the food eventually came, my whole body felt like an overcooked piece of spaghetti, and after struggling for ages to get a piece of meat on the tiny fork, and managed to get it to my mouth, my lips wouldn't comply, and the meat fell straight back onto the tiny plate. On noticing the disgusted looks of my neigbour, I decided to leave the food and save the roll and cheese for when I sobered up. After about an hour I felt much better, and after devouring the roll and cheese, I tried to make a bit of conversation with said neigbour, but he just grunted and looked me over with loathing, I suppose thinking me a drunk, so I wished him to Jericho, and tried to sleep. I had an isle seat, and when he later shook my arm to get out for a wee, I faked deep sleep until the hostess came to his salvation, and this time it was me that grunted, but with glee, when he hurried purposefully down the isle. After that we ignored each other even more.

At the airport I was upset when the immigration officer told me that I could not go through, but instead had to sit on a chair along the wall. Everyone on the flight was so sympathetic, but on glancing at my travelling neigbour, the look on his face said clearly that he was right in thinking me a criminal all the time. After a few minutes a man fetched me, and he was at least smiling, calming my nerves a bit, and made me sit very comfortably in the transition hall, where I spent half an hour watching the world go by, until a very beautiful young man approached me, asking: 'You Christina du Preez', and I nodded, and he said: 'I take you', and he was so handsome, and smiled so gently that my bally libido went sky-high, I threw caution to the wind, and breathed: 'Yes!'. Must say, the libido fell drastically when he could hardly lift the heavy bags with which I ran the streets of Cape Town for two days before leaving them at the train station for safe keeping.

He was taking me all over Athens, and I was a wreck after only minutes. The Greek drivers are hellish! First we went to Faliro to pick up the Captain, then we went to Pireas where we had to fill in about twenty forms in triplicate, then we had to have photos taken. I must say, I have a lot of respect for the Greek photographers, as this one first studied my face intently before he adjusted the lightning, and voila, id photos that actually looked like me, not like the one on my passport where I look like a very sad and hungry horse! Then we had to go to the Department of internal affairs, where another lot of forms had to be faced, then to Faliro for all to be stamped, then back to Pireas where I got my permission at last to work in Greece as a seawoman! By five o,clock we were finished, and on our way back to Faliro where the family were waiting on their yacht. I was tired, my eyes feeling as if a bag of sand was emptied into them, and at this stage I only wished for a bed!

What do you do when your youngest informs you calmly and without any  that she plans to take an Au-pair job in Holland, leaving you all alone in the big house?

You either:
a. Rage and storm and forbid her to go, and lose her for ever.
b. Go into a decline and become a sorry soul who irritates the heck out of all.
c. You flee the empty nest, go out into the world, and LIVE!

I opted for the last option, and eleven years later I am still all over the world, with not a moment to be lonely or bored!
When first informed of my girl's plans I was devastated, locked myself in the bathroom, screamed into a rolled-up towel, cried a deliciously self pitied cry, and when Trienkie knocked on the door to hear why I took so long, I was relatively calm.
While in the bathroom I had visions of some of my friends and family who had little contact with their offspring because they would not let go. So I gave a wide if wintry smile, and assured my worried looking child that all was fine, no problem, and I was very happy for her.
On taking her to the agents who do the placings, I was thrown into a bit of a fluster when the agent asked me if I would not like a nanny job in Greece, but I pulled myself together and said that I would have a good think about it.
At that point in time I was tie-dyeing viscose, making clothes, and selling it at Greenpoint stadium, so I was free to do what I wished to do.
So two months after Trienkie left, I was on the plain to Greece.
It was not a smooth passage to my actually boarding the plane, as I was going as a sea-woman to make it legal, and the people I was to work for had a huge yacht, on which we were to spend a lot of time. The agent informed me that my visa was in Capetown, so off I went with my overweight suitcase and a bouncing heart, just to be told that there was nothing for me at the Greek offices. Then started a criss-cross of communication, and from Greece we were assured that the stuff was indeed waiting for me.
For four days I was up and down from my not too cheap hotel to the Embassy, but all in vain! Then, on the day that I was to fly off, the agent told me to get my backside to the Capetown airport, fly to Johannesburg, then find a way to get to the Embassy in Pretoria, get the visa, and be back for my Olympic flight at eight thirty.
I hyperventilated!
But I nevertheless flew through the streets of the mother city to where I had left my luggage, then found a nice, greasy taxi driver who pledged to get me to the airport in twenty minutes.And he did. I just closed my eyes and prayed, bur I was in time for the flight.