Entry 4 – 22th February 2023

‘Waiting on a new purpose‘

The long-awaited homecoming trip to Larissa finally arrived. The train journey was almost identical to the one I used to do from Valencia to Gandia, in the sense that you leave a Kolohóri (Κωλοχώρι – a shithole, most commonly referred to god-forsaken villages), go for ages surrounded by agricultural flatlands, then end up with the sea to one side and mountains to the other. It was a short few days where I got to see Jim Morrison‘s (referred to Thanos as an inside joke due to some moments where his mannerisms on stage would resemble those of the late rockstar’s in question. – Also on occasion referred to in jest as Jim Morrisons, as a play between Morrison and the famous supermarket chain to make it abundantly clear with this unnecessary distinction, that he could be a poor man’s Jim Morrison; likely from the saver’s isles) and the Saint‘s (a nickname first introduced by Marios Papakostas, due to certain properties that would make Vas resemble someone who leads an ascetic lifestyle, and more specifically that of someone who is abstaining from taking up food, as he is famously two dimensional and cannot be seen from the sides) humble abodes and their families.

I got to meet lots of their friends and was quickly thrown headfirst into the culture of nursing a drink and talking for a good 4 hours. Then when you think you’re off for a kip before going out later on, you better think again, as you’re off to another bar for at least 4 hours again, although this time with food and in a cloud of smoke (so probably 5 hours).

Smoking indoors is something I was looking forward to before flying out. But once in Greece, it’s completely inescapable. If you think 2nd hand smoke is bad from one cig, wait until you sit in a crowd’s cloud of smoke for hours. I went out wanting to bring some cheap smokes back, but I feel like it’s put me off smoking for good after living in clouds for a few days. All the places had ‘No Smoking’ signs out, along with ashtrays… When I asked about it I just got confronted with a lot of ‘Starhidia Su‘ (‘To your Balls’ prompting not to take note or worry about it).

The stint in Larissa allowed me to see the ancient theatre in the centre of the city. An immense structure that I can’t believe was sitting under shops for many years until they decided to resurrect it from underneath them. Saying that, they also have an ancient marketplace which stands as the tallest point of Larissa, just behind the theatre, which has some ugly ass metal pillars inside it now. Alas, the theatre sits there, unused and awaiting a new purpose as some hints of construction lay in its foundations.

The gig was an interesting one. To start off, the first band arrived an hour late for soundcheck. You know what they say over here though: ‘Calyó arghá pará poté‘ (Lit. ‘Better Late than Ever’). Moving on, it goes without question that it was the worst drum kit I’ve ever played by a long shot. The batter head came off the kick for the first two songs, then when ‘fixed’, it was attached to the bass drum badly so as the 3rd song went on the kick ended up sideways. So after about 1/3 of the gig had passed with no kick and beat to carry the songs, could it get worse? Absolutely karamaláka (massive wanker – however, it translates as ‘You Idiot!’ in this context), the hi-hat clutch went on a song, which left me stuck with one hat setting for 2 songs. Other things happened, but it already felt like a disaster by that point.

Anyway, apparently it wasn’t that noticeable and the crowd seemed to enjoy it. Also, likely due to the overarching homecoming sentiment. I had a fan girl who was a visarú (big-breasted), and everyone had a good time. I don’t think the guys could hear shit either, but we move on to the next one.

I leave Larissa with a much improved Greek vocabulary and in need of some rest.

Larissa, Larissa, Seitha Ke Lahtárisa,

Veganski