From the Hotel Florien's 7th floor restaurant terrace, the 'nefos'�, thick, yellow-grey clouds which daily choke central Athens, seemed a many-headed monster slowly inserting carbonised tentacles into every thoroughfare of the ancient city. 08:30 in the morning; Jeannie Randall could already smell its potent mix of diesel fuel, wood-smoke and sweat, with under-notes of rotting fish. 'What would Praxiteles think of this?'�

Jeannie and Jack were on honeymoon. Neither had ever been farther away from Park Avenue than the Adirondacks and Jack was not convinced that this trip was a good idea.

Jeannie was determined to show her new husband that the European travels which so fired her senses could be fun. She had done her homework; extracting every scrap of information from their travel agent and any other remotely relevant information source. But gazing over the railing at that malevolent yellow cloud, even she was having 2nd thoughts. Thank God they were going to Santorini tomorrow; the sky would be blue and the air breathable; she hoped.

Jack had to finish reading his paper, so it was after 10.00 before they emerged onto the street. It was so hot; sun blazing, the sky white with heat. Jeannie, map in hand, led them down Ermou towards the Plaka. People were everywhere and already the kafenia were full of customers reading newspapers and drinking coffee. Moving slowly through the crowds; it was too hot to climb up to the Acropolis, they drifted towards the Agora and the Flea Market. Soon, the scents of roasting whole lambs, chickens and souvlakia added top-notes to the earlier smells of the nefos. Jeannie was tired, wanted to sit down, have a cold drink or some of the mezedes with ouzo that she had read about; but everywhere seemed full and Jack didn't like the look of those places that had empty seats.

Drifting aimlessly around the narrow streets, they moved further and further from the crowds. New scents filled the air: lemons, olives, exotic herbs and spices. This was the Athens Central Market. Jeannie remembered the restaurants inside the meat market. That was just across the street. Without asking, she plunged into the cool dark arcade; Jack following after, complaining. Inside was a cavernous grotto with stalactites of hanging carcasses. Fresh meat everywhere; the smell of blood added a final top-note to the scents that had been filling her nostrils. She found the restaurant easily, sank gratefully into a chair, Jack stumbling after her.

'Jeannie, do you really think'�'�'�'�'�. Oh God!'� Jack had noticed the hanging animals. Face green, he lunged for the doorway, just clearing the hall before vomiting onto the sidewalk.
An old man set a tankard and a single glass in front of Jeannie.
'Drink, hymos ' retsina from the barrel.'�
'Efharisto'� Delicious, icy cold; she held the sweating beaker against her face ' so delicious.'�
'You eat ' youvetsi, lamb with tomato and little macaronis.'�
'Parakalo.'� Enjoy this moment. She knew it would be a long time before she returned to Greece

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