ellinoamerikanos

[pelopas]

Conversations with Christos: Friendly visit!

By Robert Bartholomew

Christos was jubilant. He left a message on our machine that he was coming
round at 9:30 pm to take my wife and me out to dinner. We were free, so we
called his machine and said OK. He arrived on time, (10 after 10!), plopped
into a chair, drank half the glass of scotch and soda, and smiled.

"Well, tell us," my wife said. She knows that Christos is not to be hurried
but she still gets impatient.

"I'm free!"

"Of course you're free! This is America." She gets very definite on what she
calls moral issues.

Christos took another gulp. "I mean I'm free of my cousin -- or rather, my
sister's cousin on her mother's side. She's gone back to Greece at last and
I didn't even mind taking her personally to JFK."

"I didn't know you had a visitor -- let alone a sister!"

"Yes -- you're so secretive Christos," added my wife. "Why didn't you tell
us. We would have had a party for her."

"I know you would," Christos handed his empty glass to me. "But I didn't
want to risk our friendship over Angeliki. A name, I might tell you, that
bears no relationship to its eponymous winged creature!"

"How long was she here?" I asked, handing Christos a refill.

"Twelve horrendous days. She had me running all over New York. You wouldn't
believe what I suffered."

"Suffered!"

"Yes, suffered. Listen to this. She had decided to shed her designer glasses
and start wearing contacts. Why? Her 'best friend' in Greece told her that
contact lenses would do more for her than Valentino or Gucci and gave her
the name of a Greek American optometrist in New York. I tried to persuade
her to come to my man -- thorough, reasonable and gets me soft lenses at a
discount. No! She wanted 'the best,' so I had to take her to this plush
office on Park Avenue where, after a long consultation, an exhaustive
examination and his normal exorbitant fee, Professor Dimitris
somebody-or-other informed her that, yes, she could wear soft lenses but she
must change them every day."

"That's absurd," said my wife. "I change them once a week."

"You're right! And that's what I told Angeliki. But she was adamant. Her
doctor knows best. So I took her back to pick up the lenses -- 720 of them;
'enough' he said, 'to be safe and last 12 months!' Enough, I muttered, to
last seven years -- without a change of prescription!"

"She's stupid," I said. "Why should you worry if she wants to waste her
money?"

"Ah!" Christos put down his drink. Not so stupid. She whined that she had no
American dollars, would I pay and she would give me the money in Greece."

"You're just too easy," I pointed out. "You're always acting like the rich
uncle. So what's your point?"

"The point? This is the point! There are people -- Angeliki isone of them --
to whom revealed truth cannot and must not be refuted."

"Revealed truth?" asked my wife.

"Yes." Christos picked up his Scotch. "Revealed truth only drips from the
mouth of certain qualified sources -- in this case her 'best friend' and
wife of the president of Hellenic Emporium Investment Company."

"Qualified source -- what's that, Christos?"

"A qualified source includes a relative, or can in certain circumstances be
a friend, of wealth. Money is the measure of knowledge, money is the measure
of wisdom. From these sources flow only revealed truth about any subject in
the universe. The best restaurant, the best cheese, the best doctor, the
best soap and, of course, the best optometrist. And, in all cases, the most
expensive!

My wife got up to get her coat. "Christos, that is just snob appeal."

"Absolutely. But, in my sister's cousin's case, snobbism 'ad absurdum.' A
normal snob will at least listen to advice -- might even take it, after due
thought. But Angeliki won't even listen. Her faith is firm and no one
(except perhaps a richer source) can shake it.

"Well, Christos. I think I can explain that," I said. "In fact you should
know it yourself. Her attitude is steeped in tradition -- the tradition of
village life. There's security in village life, at whatever level, comfort
in knowing and doing what your neighbor does. Life's structured --
relationships are governed by well recognized rules. Rules that derive
straight from the tradition of master/servant and interdependence. Patronage
from the top meets service from the bottom; truth as revealed from higher
mouth to lower ear.

"For your wife's cousin nothing has changed. One has 'upper' friends and
'lower' friends, and all know their place. When you are put in a 'lower'
slot, be prepared to carry out without question any request."

"And I can give you an example," my wife returned with her coat over her
arm. "Robert and I were flying to Athens for the summer and a Greek friend
'gave' us a suitcase to carry for her. Legally dangerous, but in any case
physically impossible as we were already over-baggaged. We didn't realize
she put us in the lower slot: her daughter and son-in-law were returning to
Athens at the same time but she didn't dare ask them. Family is different --
friends should know their place! After we apologetically refused, we never
saw her again."

Christos and I got up. I shrugged into my coat and helped Christos on with
his. "You've lost weight Christos." I said.

"I've been forcing myself to diet while Angeliki stuffed herself at all the
trendy restaurants in New York. But that's not the only thing I've lost!
Thank heaven's the market's up!

Jim Londos: San Diego's "Golden Greek"

By Minas Savvas

The name Jim Londos carried mythical strength for me when I was a child in
Greece. "Go ahead, finish your milk," mothers would say, "drink up, so you
can grow strong and be a Jim Londos," or, as I witnessed someone once
lifting a horse cart off the ground, a bystander exclaimed, "that rascal is
as tough as Jim Londos." The name, thereby, was deposited in the
consciousness of my childhood as a name almost like that of Hercules or
Achilles. Up to the age of 12 or 13, I could not be sure that anyone by that
name had ever existed. In my youthful mind, the image of Jim Londos had been
relegated into that magical, abstract and fantastical realm of Platonic
metaphor--one of the textbook heroes of my youth.

This legendary image, exactly three decades later, became reality. It was
July 26, 1974, in San Diego, California. A couple of days earlier, the
Turks, after tacit approval from Henry Kissinger's State Department, had
invaded Cyprus under the pretext of protecting the Turkish minority there.
Greek communities all over the world were enraged. It was during the local
obligatory demonstration and march through downtown San Diego; In the midst
of our speeches and our chants, Alex Rigopoulos, a tireless and ubiquitous
figure in southern California, turned to me and asked, while pointing to a
handsome, well-dressed, short and stocky old man, "Do you know Jim Londos?"
Of course, I was taken aback. I placed the sign with "KISSINGER MURDERER" on
the ground and mumbled something like "Jim Londos? The renowned wrestler Jim
Londos?" The curly haired head moved forward and backward and a smile
brightened the well-furrowed but handsome face.

I had never seen Jim Londos in any previous gathering of Greeks and, in
fact, the next time he was to be seen again in Hellenic surroundings was at
the local church during his funeral in August of 1975. He had established
residence in Escondido in 1950, after purchasing a 20-acre ranch there
during his prime in 1935. He lived there until his death, at 1124 Avocado
Avenue, with his wife Alva and his three daughters--Diana, Demetra and
Christina--doing various chores at his ranch, walking three miles each day
and dabbling in some real estate. Those who knew him note that he was a
fairly quiet man, not especially impressive socially or intellectually, but
judicious and unpretentious.

Either because he honestly did not know or because he didn't wish to reveal
it, no one knows exactly when Londos was born. Nat Fleisher, whose book From
Milo to Londos: The Story of Wrestling Through the Ages (The Ring Inc. 1936)
is among the very few authoritative sources on the wrestling champion, gives
Londos's date of birth as January 2, 1897. He was born in Koutsopodhi, near
Argos, the last of the 13 children of Theophilos and Maria Theophilou. The
people of Koutsopodhi, incidentally, celebrated the centennial since the
birth of Jim Londos during the last days of August 1995--which would mean
that as far as the village is concerned Jim Londos was born in 1895.

Londos's father wanted him to be an army officer, his mother apriest. At a
young age, the boy was herding goats and tilling the soil and, through
observation in various chores, the child's strength was noted from the
beginning. The boy's father, a rough, Zorba-like man and himself an amateur
wrestler, was unable to control his 14-year-old son, and so the boy was
allowed to immigrate to America under the guardianship of a trusted friend
of the family, Chris Jekas. So, Chris Theophilos (Londos's real name) left
for San Francisco ready to carve out his future. The year was 1911 or 1912.

At first he worked as a waterboy, selling drinking water to construction
workers in the neighboring hills of burgeoning San Francisco. Later he held
jobs as a busboy, as a stevedore and even as a member of a vaudeville team.
In his spare time, the young teenager would train with weights and by
running. In a brief statement he was asked to draft for San Diego's Hall of
Champions a half century later, he wrote, "I began going to gym because
gymnasium fee was less than night school charge." His interest in wrestling
was ignited during this time. Londos had a kind of epiphany while attending
a match between Zbyszko and Demetral. Since Demetral was a Greek, Londos's
interest in the match becomes more obvious. Fleisher quotes Londos: "When I
was 15 I saw my first professional match between Zbyszko and Demetral, the
Greek, and I paid 25 cents for a ticket and sat high on the bleachers.
Zbyszko looked like a whale, with a chest as big as beer barrel. I wanted to
see him at close quarters, and after the match followed him to St. Francis
Hotel in San Francisco. I was so impressed with I had seen that I decided to
quit my job in the mountains and be a wrestler." He joined the YMCA and,
after arduous training, by the age of 17 he came to win both the
light-heavyweight and the heavyweight amateur championships of the Pacific
coast. He turned professional at the age of 20, and it was around this time
that he decided to change his name, after adopting and Hellenizing the name
of Jack London, the popular and celebrated writer of the time.

Few years later, in his late twenties, Londos was to fight and defeat both
Demetral and Zbyzsko. Karol Zbyzsko, in fact, was his opponent in Athens, in
a 1928 charity match for Greek orphans sponsored by the Greek government.
The match drew a throng of 70,000. The "Greek Adonis," as he was nicknamed
by then, was escorted to the ring by his now proud father--an ancient
athletic custom. Zbyzsko was beaten in match that lasted one hour and 38
minutes, after an airplane spin by Londos.

In a career that lasted 34 years, Londos is said to have wrestled 2,000
matches. Though 5'7" and about 175 to 205 pounds, Londos frequently defeated
opponents who were both taller and heavier. On July 29, 1930, by defeating
Dick Shikat in Philadelphia, he became the world's champion free-style
wrestler. He held the title until 1935, when he was pinned by Don O'Mahony
in Boston. He regained the title in 1937 from the fierce Bronko Nagurski in
a one-fall match that lasted one hour and 27 minutes. Nagurski,
incidentally, was eight inches taller and almost 40 pounds heavier than
Londos during that championship match. Londos was to keep the title until
1946, when he officially retired from the ring. During this whole period,
Londos was challenged and went onto defeat celebrated opponents like Joe
Stecher, Jim McMillan, Man Mountain Dean, Gus Sonnenberg, George Zaharias (a
fellow Greek), Everett Marshall, Ray Steele and Ed ("The Strangler") Lewis.

Londos's greatest hour, as even he admitted, was his 1933 famous match in
Athens in the Olympic Stadium before a crowd of 100,000, with some 40,000
outside unable to buy tickets. No wrestling match anywhere in the world has
since gathered so many people. Londos's opponent was Kola Kowriani, the
Russian champion, at 230 pounds, 35 pounds heavier than the "Greek Adonis."
The one-fall match lasted almost two hours, and Londos's victory was to give
the Greeks the hero and legend of subsequent years.

Londos's father and brothers were present, and the Royal Guards paraded both
Jim and his father around the stadium in triumph, as the celebrations in
Athens and other cities lasted for days. In Greece (and even in the rest of
the wrestling world), a legend was born: a Greek from abroad had come to
show his compatriots how they could excel in the world's stage. A Greek
shepherd boy was defeating established luminaries of wrestling like Jim
Browning and Joe Stecher and the Great Zbyszko. King Paul, few years later,
was to bestow the Gold Cross of the Phoenix to Londos in acknowledgment not
just of his wrestling prowess but for his contributions to Greek charities.
President Reagan, too, more than two decades later was to honor him with an
equivalent commendation.

The 1933 match in Athens may have been Londos's proudest moment, but his
toughest match and most memorable in wrestling circles was against his
fiercest opponent, Ed ("The Strangler") Lewis, in Chicago's Wrigley Field in
1934 before 28,000 spectators.

Nat Fleisher relates the match and, though somewhat lengthy, it is worth
quoting:

"It was a bout that set history in American wrestling circles... There was
never any doubt as to the sincerity of the contestants, who had until 1924
met 14 times, with Lewis's headlock always too much for the little Greek,
who at that time never weighed more than 172 pounds. Londos's long fight to
gain weight was proven when he scaled 205 pounds against Lewis's regular
240. Fans and experts alike paid tribute to the Greek's courage against the
weight handicap of 35 pounds and his strategy during the early portion of
the match, when that handicap told on him at least four times. He was caught
in the vise of Lewis's headlock three times, breaking out of one of them in
the center of the ring, and two others along the ropes. It was an armlock
applied by the Strangler, however, which nearly caused Jim's downfall. He
admitted as much later, and Lewis said that he himself was sure he had the
champion at that point. The real break of the match occurred when the two
wrestlers and Referee Ted Tonneman went over the ropes after 40 minutes had
elapsed. Lewis twisted his right arm at the elbow in attempting to free
himself from the top and middle ropes. The arm was numb and sore, according
to Lewis, from there until the finish. Londos, noting this weakness, took
advantage of it, and it was on this member that he finally secured the
hammerlock which won for him. Another decisive factorwas Londos's ability to
lift Lewis, a feat which preceded the application of the finishing grip. A
few days before the match, Lou Talaber, Lewis's trainer, said that if Jim
could lift the Strangler, an act he regarded as virtually impossible, he
would win the match. Londos did both. At the end of forty minutes, Lewis was
leading in the point scoring of Referee Tonneman and the two judges--George
T. Donoghue and Capt. Willard Malone--who would have assisted Tonneman in
rendering a decision had the match gone the full 90 minute limit. In Chicago
wrestling is scored on a point system. Each scored ten points for a ten
minute period. For the four full periods Tonneman gave Lewis 24 points and
Londos 16; Donoghue awarded the Strangler 21 points against Londos 19, and
Capt. Malone gave Londos 21 points to Lewis 19. This gave the Strangler a
total of 64 points against Londos's 56 going into the fifth ten minute
period. It was 18 minutes before Lewis took Londos to the floor, the first
time either had been off his feet. But in that time, the cautious retreat
and defense of the catlike Londos, and the aggressive, persistent bulling of
Lewis kept the thousands on edge. Here was power. Here was intense effort.
Each given the opportunity was capable of twisting the other into a spasm of
agony. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, Londos moved in to attack. In his
very eagerness, however, he almost lost his title. Twice Londos swept in
against Lewis and sought a crotch hold, but Lewis's proximity to the ropes
kept him from danger. Then suddenly as the men sparred for an opening in
mid-ring, Lewis flapped his hairy arm around Jim's head and leveraged him to
the floor. The crowd boomed in approval. It was typical of Lewis, the same
Lewis who for a generation had reigned as the king of all wrestlers. For a
minute and a half Londos groveled on the floor, impotent in the grasp. Then
he twisted free. At the end of thirty minutes, the men lost patience. That
was the only time that either intentionally used a fighter's tactics. Londos
butted Lewis's face to beefy red and drew severe admonitions from Referee
Ted Tonneman. Lewis retaliated with forearm smashes to the Greek's head. The
tempo increased. Lewis applied another headlock, but Londos tangled in the
ropes, forcing the referee to order Lewis to break. At 40 minutes Londos
fell to the floor when Lewis obtained a wristlock. Unable to leave the
center of the mat, he suffered for three minutes and bridged repeatedly to
prevent the Strangler from scoring a victory. Londos came to his feet, his
right arm numb from pressure. Lewis apparently had no difficulty in gaining
his favorite hold, the headlock. Jim broke it but Lewis renewed the grip.
Then--almost it seemed in desperation--Londos rushed Lewis to the ropes and
both fell clutching at the edge of the mat with the referee futilely
striving to separate them. Londos regained his feet, but Lewis did not jerk
free of the entangling ropes and climb back until the timekeeper had rolled
eighteen of the twenty seconds permitted. Londos was now in far better
condition. His smooth flowing muscles rippled as he moved forward to meet
Lewis. The Strangler was caught in a hip lock and thrown heavily, the first
time he had been tossed in what is ordinarily one of the routine holds in
wrestling. Again Lewis fell, and this time Londos secured a hammer lock. As
Lewis lay inert, Londos held thehammer lock and switched his left arm to
half nelson. Gradually he forced Lewis over as the referee lay prone
watching for the "touch." Once the referee raised his hand but withdrew it.
Again as Lewis was forced over, he counted the required three seconds, then
slapped Londos on the back, and Londos was the winner.

Thus Jim Londos attained the goal of his ambition--a victory over his
arch-enemy. The man who had tossed him fourteen times when the Greek was
only a light heavyweight and had used those triumphs to belittle the prowess
of Londos after Jim had won the title and had broken from the camp to which
Lewis belonged, had finally been vanquished."

Londos was later to say that Strangler Lewis was "the toughest man I ever
fought. Fast and hard to get a hold of. Powerful, just powerful, legs."

Londos retired from professional wrestling just when it had started becoming
orchestrated and theatrical. Some sports writers in the '40s (Paul Gallico,
"That Was Acting," Theatre News, Jan. 1949, for instance) charged Londos
with being an entertainer more than an athlete. At the end of the
Depression, "fixed" wrestling matches became increasingly common, and
Londos's legend becomes somewhat tarnished in the early '40s because he went
along with the flow of fixed bouts, he had lost the purity of the honest
athlete. Here was a man who had been applauded by thousands in every
continent, an athlete who had lost less than 5% of his professional matches,
a wrestler who had defeated the best. It was disheartening to his fans that
near the end of his career Londos had not resisted in the unfortunate trend
of histrionics in the sport. Yet, even his detractors could not deny that
Londos was among the finest wrestlers to grace a mat. When James Bryson of
The San Diego Union asked him in 1963 what he thought of modern TV wrestling
(of the Hulk Hogan variety), he smiled evasively: "The sport has been very
good to me," he quipped, "I will not be critical."

Fleisher, in fact, with a twist to the appellation "the Golden Greek," had
estimated that in 1935 the champion had assets that exceeded $2,000,000. As
late as 1962, still in excellent shape, he fought two or three exhibition
matches in Australia, but for most of the last three decades of his life, he
could be found in and around his ranch in Escondido, helping in the coaching
of the Escondido High school wrestling team, going to St. Spyridon Greek
Orthodox Church, attending a few public functions, but mostly spending time
on his ranch and with his family.

Meanwhile, though my gilded, Platonic ideal of the image of Jim Londos has
been deromanticized, it has not altogether vanished. The "Greek Adonis"
still smiles at me whenever I walk through San Diego's Hall of Champions and
I am sure he is still remembered with admiration by those whose mothers and
grandmothers were once admonishing them to drink their milk so that they can
be like Jim Londos.
Grande Bretagne

By Susan Spedalle

Most hotels are pretty anonymous, offering the standard-issue noncommittal
framed prints on the walls and serviceable bureaus for clothing. You hope
the bed is firm, the mini-bar key will work, and that room service will stay
up as late as you do.

But there are hotels, and then there are hotels. Some can be like a home
away from home; or a place that makes one feel special. Here, one doesn't
feel like a foreigner, or an out-of-towner, but rather a guest. Surrounded
by importance, it imparts a special feeling. That's the strength of Athens'
Grande Bretagne.

It's easy to love luxury hotels, but like many people, I'm loathe to spend
the money it requires to stay in them. Not at the G.B., as it is
affectionately called. It combines personalized, individual service which
exceeds a discriminating traveler's expectations. Steeped with history, it
falls in a category by itself, and as for luxury, it can't be beat. Majestic
tapestries and oil paintings adorn marble walls, and stately antiques fill
the lobby. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceilings of every room, and
huge bathrooms are outfitted in Greek marble.

The G.B. is an antidote to nine hours in an airplane seat. After landing, I
head straight for the cool white sheets and lemoncolored walls of one of the
400 impeccably decorated rooms. After sleeping off jet lag, I sit for a
while in the lobby to simply inhale the luxury. Fabulous oriental rugs cover
marble floors, and concierges in dark suits hustle across the great space,
on their way to fulfilling the guests' wishes. When I've had enough, I walk
over to the Plaka for a fashionable late dinner.

Of course, I could eat in the hotel. It has a reputable formal dining room
known for its sophisticated Greek cuisine. The sommellier gets first dibs on
Greece's best vintages (stored in a former bomb shelter in the hotel's
basement).

There is also a less formal restaurant, described as the fashionable G.B.
corner, but I've eaten breakfast there to the tune of $27 and didn't dare
find out what dinner would cost.

On the lighter side, it's possible to get high tea or drinks in the Winter
Garden. Last summer, we watched the World Championship Games on television
in the pillared and glass-ceilinged lounge, surrounded by the athletes who
were staying at the prestigious address. We were too late for supper, but
the kitchen was kind enough to throw together what turned out to be the best
chicken sandwiches we'd ever eaten.

Then there's the infamous bar. Half the patrons on any given night are
thought to be CIA or KGB agents working on important political intrigue,
passing information from the East to the West. And the truth is that during
both world wars, general manager Apostolos Doxiadis's grandfather did
perform secret intelligence missions.

This was the place, in 1944, where plumbers inspecting the sewers outside
the hotel noticed strange wires connected to a ton of dynamite in the
basement. There, a bomb was ticking. The explosion was meant to do away with
Sir Winston Churchill, thenBritish prime minister, who was to meet with
Greek Archbishop Damaskinos at the hotel on Christmas morning. A bomb squad
saved both the politician and the building.

On another occasion, in 1949, CBS reporter George Polk announced at, of all
places, the G.B. bar that he was headed to Thessaloniki to infiltrate Greek
communist guerrilla headquarters. It is thought that Greek right-wing
terrorists who were monitoring the bar heard of the plan. A few days later,
Polk was found in Thessaloniki; he was floating in the harbor. From then on,
the bar came to be known as the "Snake Pit."

An Athenian friend of mine, who as a young adult had to call her mother if
she stayed out past 11:00 pm, would always answer the maternal query, "Where
were you?" with the evasive tongue-incheek retort: "At the bar of the G.B."

Today, the G.B. is the unofficial conference center of the Greek government,
and politicians are frequently seen traversing the lobby.

When I arrive at the G.B., my plan is to stay just two nights, but before I
leave, I book a room for the last night of my trip, the night before I'll
fly back home. By "book-ending" the trip with stays at the G.B., I can get
the bellman to babysit the fragile kalimera mirror and large iconostasi that
I couldn't resist on my second day at Monastiraki. And the curtains,
pillowcases and other treasures I'll bring home are, for the next 30 days,
safe in the package room on the ground floor.

As the trip progresses through the islands or the mountains and my bags get
heavy, I post things I can't fit into my suitcase back to myself, care of
the G.B. Once I lost my Visa card and the company sent it international
overnight mail to my G.B. address.

At the end of the trip, after a month of sleeping in dhomatia, I arrive back
at the B.G. and slip into a hot bath in what must be one of the country's
only six-foot long, three-foot deep bathtubs. Emerging from the water, I
wrap myself in the hotel's plush white bathrobe (for sale in the lobby) and,
overlooking Constitution Square (and the construction of the new metro),
contemplate how much I dread getting back into the swing of things in New
York.

A Prestigious Guest List

If I had the money that Russia's Grand Duchess Helena did, I'd make the G.B.
my permanent residence for life, too.

Of course, she's just one of a long list of legendary guests. Foreign
governments house their delegations at the G.B. Crowned heads of state make
it their home, and invading armies have taken up residence until their
downfall. By name, they include the Agha Khan, Valery Giscard d'Estaing,
Helmut Schmidt, Marshall Tito, a variety of Russian princes, Lyndon Johnson,
Kennedys of all rank, Rothschilds, Dwight Eisenhower, Aristotle Onassis,
Rockefellers, the entire London Philharmonic Orchestra and Melina Mercouri.

My first opportunity to stay at the G.B. was seven years ago. I was
traveling with a Greek boyfriend, born and bred in a small town near the
Bulgarian border and completely intimidated by the television images he had
seen of the place. He wouldn't step footin the hotel, because "that's where
kings and queens stay, and not me." No amount of persuasion would change his
mind.

He was right, of course. A boy from Odessa, Russia left home at the age of
10 and became a cook's assistant in the royal palace. Hearing of his
culinary skills, the king sent Eustace Lampsa to Paris to learn more. Lampsa
returned with a French wife, in time to become the manager of a luxurious
two-story mansion the king wished to use for the wealthy British guests of
the court who stopped by on their way to see the Egyptian antiquities.

Lampsa named the hotel The Grande Bretagne, in their honor. The name
flattered the British, but the French spelling was in honor of his wife,
Palmyre Palfroy.

In time, Lampsa had the opportunity to buy the hotel, and started a
long-standing family business. He ran it with, and then in 1908 sold it to,
his son-in-law Theodore Petrocopolos. In those times water had to be brought
in pails to guests in the 80-bed hostelry. Petrocopolos, who performed his
own missions of espionage on behalf of Venizelos, turned it into a meeting
place for politicians, artists, lawyers, intellectuals, financiers and
theater people.

The Hotel and History

Some say, where the Grand Bretagne is concerned, hotel and history are
synonymous. In 1940, it was requisitioned as headquarters for the Greek
armed forces (guests had an hour to vacate their rooms). Six months later,
when Athens fell to the Germans, it became Wehrmacht headquarters. Before
the German attack on Russia in June 1941, Hitler himself arrived for a brief
stay in Greece and visited his functionaries at the hotel. After the Germans
left, the British Expeditionary Force made it their headquarters.

In the 1944 Greek Civil War, the hotel bristled with machineguns and
bloodstained the streets. About 1,500 people crammed inside, making due as
they could. English author Richard Capell described the hotel at the time as
"a stranded ship, a great helpless liner, and there is no telling whether
she will break up before aid comes to float her again. The servants have
gone, the lift stands still, water is intermittent and so is the light."

According to "A Hotel is like a Woman... The Grand Hotels of Europe," by
Will Frischauer, "There were ten to a room, and most of notable Athens took
refuge. There was Sir Ronald Scobie, the British Commander-in-Chief, Premier
George Papandreou in his early sixties, his ministers and their families,
refugees from Kifissia and Psikhiko, British and American oil big wigs, a
swarm of newspaper reporters, Welfare and YMCA ladies, police officers and
troops in the Wintergarden and the corridors... They lined up for plates of
stew and tea. Madame Papandreou herself made beds and helped serve meals.
For a few months in that dramatic December of 1944, the hotel was the heart
and soul of all that was left of Greek democracy."

After the war, the hotel became the headquarters of the UNRRA, the United
Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, which distributed American
supplies to the starving Greeks.

The Look of Luxury

"Megali Bretagne?" a cab driver once asked me incredulously. He couldn't
believe that was where I was staying. Such is the reputation of the place.
Certainly someone as ordinary as myself did not reside in that pantheon of
hospitality and luxury. Begrudgingly, he drove me there, and in true Greek
taxi fashion, left me where he felt like it, a block away from the front
door.

On another occasion, two well-heeled tourists from Texas stopped my daughter
and I a few blocks from the hotel, and with map in hand and asked us if we
could help them find their hotel. "Which one is it?" I asked.

"The Grand Bretagne," she replied.

"Oh, yes we can," my eight-year-old daughter piped right up. "That's our
hotel." And the woman took a small step back on the curb and her eyes
widened and her lip curled, and she said to the little girl. "Oh, I don't
think so."

But at the G.B. no one makes the distinction between you and say, Mary
Pickford, who back in the 1920s, not only housed valets and maids, and 50
pieces of luggage, but required an entire room just for her shoes.

The view of the Acropolis and the Parthenon on one side, and the Royal
Palace, now the House of Parliament, on the other, is for all.

Royal Friends

The royal connection can be found repeatedly between the four walls of the
hotel. The main dining room was run for years by George Galiadsados, "Mr.
George," who was decorated by Denmark's King Frederick for suggesting what
the king might like to dine on. Crevettes platamonas (shrimp skewered with
bacon) and baccaliaro me skordalia (cod fish with potato garlic dip) were
among the king's favorites. The occasion of the dinner was the engagement of
Crown Prince Constantine and the Danish princess, Anne Marie, a pair who
were destined to become the king and queen of Greece.

Even the clubby G.B. Corner hasn't escaped the royal touch. The Tartan plaid
room is run by Lambros Kapiris, who is the former personal waiter to king
Constantine II.

Today, not much is left of the original hotel. Most of it was torn down in
1956 and rebuilt in the 19th-century style. It was new but looked old. In
1972, the G.B. was completely redecorated and refurbished; "Modernizing
backwards," Doxiadis calls it. The high ceilings, wide hallways, distance
from street noise and great views were not changed, and the old world
ambience was preserved. The sixth and seventh floors, which bring the
building to its legal limit on height, have similar rooms but narrower
corridors.

In 1995, the hotel became part of the Sheraton Luxury Collection, a sister
hotel to the Imperial Hotel In Vienna, the Hotel Daniell in Venice and the
Park Tower in London.

Last year, during the 100th anniversary of the modern Olympics,the hotel
celebrated its role during the first modern games. Carrying the designation
of Official Hotel of the Hellenic Olympic Committee, it hosted Baron Pierre
de Coubertin, visionary of the revival of the Olympic Games, the members of
the first international Olympic Committee, and world dignitaries and
celebrities. In 1996, the preview of the torch relay ceremony was aired
worldwide from the hotel's Winter Garden, followed by celebrations of the
launching of the flame to Atlanta. The Grande Bretagne will no doubt play a
significant role in the 2004 Olympics in Athens.
OCTOBER 13-OCTOBER 1998 * STATEN ISLAND, NY

Exhibit. The Staten Island Children's Museum, 1000 Richmond Terrace, is
presenting In the Heart of the Home, a hands-on exhibition of the kitchen
settings of the Greek, Mexican and Thai cultures. Please call (718) 273-2070
for further information.

NOVEMBER 6-MARCH 29, 1998 * KENT, OHIO

Exhibit. The Kent State University Museum is hosting an exhibit featuring
traditional costumes of Greece, drawing mostly from the collection of the
Peloponnesian Folklore Foundation of Nafplion, Greece, accompanied by
historic maps of the regions the costumes represent. For further
information, please call the museum at (330) 672-3450.

DECEMBER 5-FEBRUARY 22 * NEW YORK, NY

Exhibit. Nelly, from Athens to New York: A Retrospective Exhibition of Elly
Seraidari will be featured at the International Center of Photography (ICP),
1130 Fifth Avenue. Exhibition hours are Tuesday, 11:00 am to 8:00 pm:
WednesdaySunday, 11:00 am to 6:00 pm; closed Monday. Please call (212)
860-1777 or visit the ICP website at http://www.icp.org for further
information.

DECEMBER 11-JANUARY 4 * NEW YORK, NY

Exhibit. The Consulate General of Greece in New York, 69 East 79th Street,
will host the opening of the exhibition Illustration for Three Melodic
Impressions, featuring the paintings of Amalia (Paraskevopoulou), at 6:30
pm. There will be a presentation of the unique Greek publications Concise
Encyclopedic Dictionary of Byzantine Music, World Dictionary of Music and
Complete Works by Angelos L. Voudouris, which are illustrated by Amalia.
Musicologist Olympia Tolika will also make a presentation. The exhibition
will be transfered on December 16 to the Hall of the Union of Arcadians in
New York "O Geros tou Moria," 39-05 27th Street, Long Island City, (718)
482-1875. Visiting hours are on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday from 4:00 pm to
9:00 pm.

DECEMBER 31 * NEW YORK, NY

Gala. The New York Archdiocesan Greek Orthodox Young Adult League (GOYAL) is
holding its 2nd Annual New Year's Eve Gala at the Jacob Javits Center, 655
West 34th Street. Doors open at 10:00 pm. Admission is $100 per person for a
buffet-style dinner and open bar. For further information, please call (212)
570-3547.

JANUARY 16-18 * NEW YORK, NY

Conference. The Sephardic House, in cooperation with Congregation Shearith
Israel, The Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, will present The Sephardic
Experience, "an inspirational, spiritual and cultural experience, Sephardic
Style." The event will feature speakers on various topics concerning Greek
Jewry (such as "The Agony of the Greek Jews during WWII" by Michael Matsas
and Steve Bowman, music, luncheons and dinners, religious services, a
photography exhibit of the synagogues of Salonika and guided visits to the
Lower East Side Tenement Museum and the KehilaKedosha Janina Synagogue and
Museum. For further information, please call the Sephardic House at (212)
496-2173.

JANUARY 19 * HOWARD BEACH, NY

Luncheon. The Combined Philoptochos Charities of Brooklyn and Staten Island
are hosting their 26th Annual Luncheon at Russo's on the Bay, 162-45 Cross
Bay Blvd. All proceeds to benefit Breast Cancer Research at Memorial Sloan
Kettering. Donation $45. Please call Maria Konstandakis at (718) 336-8902 or
Eva Vardakis at (718) 763-6334 for further information.

JANUARY 21-24 * CAMBRIDGE, MA

Conference. The 1998 International Conference on the Mediterranean Diet,
sponsored by Oldways Preservation and Exchange Trust and the Harvard School
of Public Health, will be held at Royal Sonesta Hotel. For more information
and/or registration, please call Oldways at (617) 621-300, fax (617)
621-1230 or e-mail Old...@tiac.net.

FEBRUARY 9,10 * NEW YORK, NY

Dance. Continuous Painting, a performance by modern dance company Analysis,
choreographed by Valia Alexandratou and with paintings by Nassos Daphnis,
will take place on Monday and Tuesday at 8:00 pm at The Sylvia & Danny Kaye
Playhouse at Hunter College of the City University of New York, on 68th
Street between Lexington and Park Avenues. For further information and
tickets, please call the Kaye Playhouse box office at (212) 772-4448 after
midJanuary.

FEBRUARY 10 * BOOT MILLS, MA

Lecture. The Hellenic Culture Society of Massachusetts will present a
lecture by University of Massachusetts Professor Mario Aste entitled "The
Influence of Greece in Italy," with culinary delights by Greek and Italian
"patrioti." The program will take place at the Folklife Center, 400 Foot of
John Street, 5th floor. For further information, please call (508) 453-5422.

FEBRUARY 12 * WORCESTER, MA

Theater. The Hellenic Arts Society of Worcester and the department of
classics of Holy Cross College are to cosponsor a production entitled Living
in Exile, a retelling of the Iliad, at 7:00 pm at the Hogan Campus Center,
Room 519, Holy Cross College. The event is free and open to the public.
Please call (508) 7529023 for further information.

FEBRUARY 20-22 * OAKLAND, CA

Symposium. The Preservation of Our History: Past, Present and Future, will
take place at the Greek Orthodox Cathedral of the Ascension, 4700 Lincoln
Avenue, and will focus on the critical problems confronting communities
endeavoring to preserve their culture, history, traditions and artifacts.
Symposium speakers include author and historian Helen Papanikolas and Dr.
Speros Vryonis, Jr., director of the Speros Basil Vryonis Center for the
Study of Hellenism in Sacramento. For further information, pleasecontact the
Ascension Cathedral, 4700 Lincoln Avenue, Oakland, CA 94602, tel. (510)
531-3400, fax (510) 531-3711.

MARCH 17 * MUNCIE, INDIANA

Reading. The Greek Studies Program at Ball State University begins its
Spring Semester 1998 Lecture Series with a reading of Dr. Robert Fagles' The
Odyssey by the author himself. Dr. Fagles is Arthur W. Parks Professor of
Comparative Literature at Princeton University. The reading will be held at
the Ball State University L.A. Pittenger Student Center Forum Room at 10:00
am. Lectures are free and open to the public. Please call (765) 2858711 for
further information.

MARCH 19 * MUNCIE, INDIANA

Lecture. The Greek Studies Program at Ball State University continues its
Spring Semester 1998 Lecture Series with a lecture by Dr. Vassos
Karageorghis, University of Cyprus, entitled "The Art of Cyprus at the End
of the Late Bronze Age." The lecture will be held at the Ball State
University Alexander Bracken Library, Room 225, at 10:00 am. Lectures are
free and open to the public. Please call (765) 285-8711 for further
information.

MARCH 24 * MUNCIE, INDIANA

Lecture. The Greek Studies Program at Ball State University continues its
Spring Semester 1998 Lecture Series with a lecture by Dr. Peter W. Edbury,
professor of medieval history, University of Wales, entitled "Cultural
Implications of the Frankish Conquest of Cyprus, 1191." The lecture will be
held at the Ball State University Alexander Bracken Library, Room 225, at
11:00 am. Lectures are free and open to the public. Please call (765)
285-8711 for further information.

MARCH 29 * LOWELL, MA

Exhibit. The Hellenic Culture Society of Massachusetts will present an
exhibition by Greek artist and poet Anthony James. The event will be held at
the Brush Gallery on Market Street, and will take place from 3:00 pm to 5:00
pm. At 4:00 pm the artist will read from his poetry. A reception is to
follow. For further information, please call (508) 453-5422.
Manhattan:
Periyali 35 W. 20th Street
(Between 5th and 6th Ave.)
Lunch: M-F, 12-3
Dinner: M-Sat, 5:30-11
All major credit cards
(212) 463-7890

Ithaka 48 Barrow Street
(212) 722-8886

Agrotikon 322 E. 14th Street
Dinner only
5:30-12, every night
All major credit cards
(212) 473-2602

Rafina 1481 York Avenue
(Between 78th & 79th street)
Dinner only
4-12, every night
All major credit cards
(212) 327-0950

Pelago 157 E. 55th Street
Lunch: M-Sat, 12-3
Dinner: M-Sat, 5:30-10:30
AmEx, Visa, Diners, TransMedia
(212) 832-5865

Nine Muses 592 Hudson Street
Dinner only
M-Th, 5-11
F-Sun, 5-12
MC, Visa, AmEx
(212) 741-0009

Estia 301 E. 86th Street
Dinner only
Sun-Th, 5-12
Fri-Sat, 5-1
All major credit cards
(212) 628-9100

Artos 307 E. 53rd Street
M-F: Lunch & Dinner, 12-11
Sat-Sun: Dinner, 5-11:30
All major except Transmedia
(212) 838-0007

Meltemi 905 E. 1st Avenue
Open 7 days a week
(212) 355-4040

Mykonos Taverna 234 W. 14th Street
(Between 7th & 8th Ave.)
11:30am-midnight, 7 days a week
AmEx, Visa, MC
(212) 675-7373

Gus' Place 149 Waverly Place
(1 block west of 6th Ave.)
Open 7 days a week
Lunch: 12-4
Sun Brunch: 10-4
Dinner: 5-midnight
All major credit cards
(212) 645-8511

Niko's Mediterranean Grill & Bistro 21-61 Broadway, 76th street
Open for Brunch, Lunch, Dinner
and Late Night
S-Th, 11am-11:30pm
F-Sat, 11am-12:30pm
(212) 873-7000

Uncle Nick's Greek Cuisine 747 9th Ave. (at 51st Street)
11:30-11:30, 7 days a week
AmEx, Visa, MC
(212) 245-7992

Queens, NY:

Mediterranean Grill 192-02 Northern Boulevard
(718) 357-4500

Akroyali 33-04 Broadway, Astoria
(718) 932-7772

S'Agapo 34-21 34th Avenue, Astoria
(718) 626-0303

Zenon 34-10 31 Avenue, Astoria
(718) 956-0133

Karyatis 35-03 Broadway, Astoria
(718) 204-0666

Vraka 25-15 31st Street, Astoria
(718) 721-3007

Uncle George's 33-19 Broadway, Astoria
Astoria, NY
(718) 726-0593

Elias Corner 24-01 31 street, Astoria
(718) 932-1510

Long Island, NY:
Metro 21 21 North Station Plaza
Great Neck
M-Sat, 7am-9pm
Sun, 7am-1pm
AmEx, Visa, MC
(516) 482-4389

Mykonian House 37 Cutter Mill Road
Great Neck
Lunch: M-Sat, 12-3
Dinner: M-Fri, 5-10
Sat. Dinner: 5-11
Sun. Dinner: 5-9:30
AmEx,Visa, MC
(516) 466-1194

New Jersey:
Odyssey Restaurant 6 East Ridgewood Avenue,
Ridgewood
Dinner only
Tue-Th: 5:30-10, F-Sat: 5:30-11,
Sun: 5:30-9:30
(201) 445-5056

Chicago
Roditys 222 South Halsted
11am-1am, 7 days a week
AmEx, Visa, MC
(312) 454-0800

Greek Islands 200 South Halsted Street
Sun-Thu: 11am-midnight
F-Sat: 11am-1am
All major credit cards
(312) 782-9855

The Parthenon 314 South Halsted Street
11am-1am, 7 days a week
All major credit cards
(312) 726-2407

Costas 340 South Halsted
M-F: 11am-11:30pm
Sat-Sun: 11am-1am
Live Music: Wed-Sun
All major credit cards
(312) 263-9700

LosAngeles/Southern California:
Le Petit Greek 100 North La Cienega Boulevard
No. 231 (Beverly Connection)
Tue-Sun: Lunch & Dinner
(310) 657-5932

Le Petit Greek 127 North Larchmont Boulevard
Lunch: M-Sat, 11:30-2:30
Dinner: Tue-Sat, 5:30-10
Sun: 5pm-9pm
(213) 464-5160

Aegean Cafe 540 Southcoast Highway
Laguna Beach
Tue,Wed, Thu, Sun: 4-10
Fri-Sat: 4-midnight
Lunch: Fri-Sun, 11-4
(714) 494-5001

Taverna Tony 23410 Civic Center Way
Malibu
(310) 317-9667

Dallas:
Zizikis 4514 Travis Street, #122
M-Th: 11am-11pm
Fri-Sat: 11am-midnight
AmEx, Diners, Visa, MC
(214) 521-2233

Greek Isles 3309 Central Expressway, Plano
M-Th: 11am-10pm
Fri: 11am-11pm
Sat: 5pm-11pm
All major credit cards
(214) 423-7778

Detroit:
Cyprus Taverna 579 Monroe Avenue
Sun-Th: 11am-2am
Fri-Sat: 11am-4am
All major credit cards
(313) 961-1550

Miami:
Maria's Greek Restaurant 1363 Coral Way
M-Fri: 11am-10pm
Sat: 4pm-10pm
Cash only
(305) 856-0938

Washington, DC:
Yannis Greek Taverna 4500 Connecticut Ave.
11:30am-11pm, 7 days a week
AmEx, Visa, MC
(202) 362-8871
Contemporary Greek Photography at In Khan Gallery

NEW YORK - In Khan Gallery will be hosting Intragrams, an exhibition of
chromogenic print photography by contemporary Greek artist James M. Lane,
from January 28 through February 28, 1998. An opening reception with the
artist will be held on Thursday, January 30, from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm.

Mr. Lane's photographs employ a combination of muted emotion and mutated
physicality. The choice of color reflects the "memory" of the womb; a
submersion into that inner sanctum where everything is beginning and has
begun. This subdued shift in bluish-bruiselike color is emotionally
intriguing against the chosen sharpwhite areas. Emotions like uneasiness and
the beginning of melancholia share the same body and moment with passive
reflection and comfort: the being is awake and asleep. Intragrams, the title
for this series of works, so aptly describes this state: the push-pull, of
memory and messages, within the body and from the being.

Mr. Lane resides in Athens, Greece. He was born in 1969 to an American
father and Greek mother, both of whom are painters. He studied at Parsons
School of Design at the New School For Social Research in New York City and
received a BFA in photography in 1992. He has had numerous exhibitions in
Greece as well as New York, and is included in notable collections such as
the Dakis Joannou-Deste Foundation, 3E Ltd., Athens, and the Ioanidis
Collection, Athens.

The In Khan Gallery is located at 415 West Broadway, and is open on Tuesday
through Saturday from 10:00 am to 6:00 pm. For further information, please
call (212) 226-6484.