Not only because of the coronavirus lockdown but also because of my advancing age, the only travelling I do these days is armchair-travelling which often takes me back to those music- and retzina-filled days in Greece - see here.
One of the highlights of those sunny two years in Greece in the mid-80s were my frequent excursions on the then Russian-built noisy and smoky "Flying Dolphin" hydrofoils from Piraeus to the island of Hydra. I visited Hydra without any knowledge of its reputation as an artists' colony, least of all its Australian connection through George Johnston and Charmian Clift. All those insights came many years later - together with the insight that I should never have resigned from my position there and returned to Australia (but that's a story for another time).
Right on cue at this housebound moment, along comes "A Theatre for Dreamers" which burns with the heat and light of Greece. It is a spell-binding novel about utopian dreams and innocence lost; an intoxicating rush of sensory experience; the headiest of armchair escapism.
If you wish you could disappear to a Greek island right now, buy this lovely book! I just did! (to whet your appetite, click here for a preview)
τα λέμε στην Ελλάδα! (if my Greek is slipping, please correct me)
