Stanford 

July 14, 1962:  Letter to family from Sam at Constitution Square Athens Greece

Dear family , 

Well, we managed to escape that depressing Yugoslavia, as you can infer from the return address. But it wasn’t all that way. I’ll relate from where I think I left off: on the boat from Split to Dubrovnik: 

Without a car, and with Yugoslavian roads the way they are, we abandoned our Zadar-Dubrovnik bus, commissioned after the Big Wreck, and took a boat from Split, halfway between the above mentioned cities. The weather was cool and windy, and we sneaked into first class very soon, so the trip was fine. Arriving in Dubrovnik late in the afternoon, we shacked up with a private family halfway up the Alps (cheaper, more picturesque, and excellent for the legs), Saw a concert in town, and slept late the next day. Dubrovnik was worth the rest of Yugoslavia put together, if that’s saying anything: it has looks and history, and is well cared for by the government. It was in the city, moreover, that we confirmed that all our American guidebooks on Yugoslavia were crazy: they said living in Yugoslavia is expensive. We invariably ate the most expensive dishes in the most expensive restaurants in town, and the meals invariably less than $.60. Big Len might like this too: pastries are practically free, and good sometimes; four cents was the most I ever paid for a piece of cake.

We spent a full day in Dubrovnik, and then commissioned another large vessel to take us all the way back to Zadar. Cheaper than buses, and a lot smoother. Unfortunately, the sea was rough this time, and it rained, and they wouldn’t let us into first class, and it got very cold, and I almost barfed, but that’s another story. So we got back, and the car wasn't ready yet – it seems that July 4 is a national holiday in Yugoslavia also (Tito’s birthday, or something), so we had to wait another day. We wait. Now, a whole day of waiting for a car to be fixed in Zadar, Yugoslavia, may seem dull, but it isn’t. You see, I still had to pack up a copy of the police account of the accident, which was supposed to be waiting for me on my return. This action may seem, on the surface, at least nothing but a simple exercise, but the preliminaries go much deeper – like finding the police station, finding policeman in it, communicating with them, etc. So that day was well filled up. I went to a movie that evening to relax, but the film (really very funny because it stank so very much) was spoiled by the loud laughter and general noise-making of the spirited Yugoslav audience. When it was over, they just got up and silently filed out. Kind of spooky.

The car was ready late the next day, and off we went, after sending the bill to the insurance company (about $80 so far – would’ve been around $250 in the states).  We drove to Split the first day, and spent the night there with a family again. Before going to bed, however, I wanted to check up on a phenomenon I had previously observed in Zadar and Dubrovnik, and, yes, I found it in Split too. The other cities we stayed at in Yugoslavia also exhibited the phenomenon. I call it the “mysterious crowd effect “ (not to be confused with “the cloud effect” of thermonuclear physics).  It seems to begin around six in the evening, but the start is always gradual. Somebody waits off the curve for the light to change, or crosses the street on yellow instead of green. Then somebody else takes a step or two in the street gutter, and returns to the sidewalk. The people are encouraged. Stealthily, they cross streets outside of the pedestrian walks, where they encroach on the asphalt. The momentum is picked up, more and more people gathering, and with a sudden great surge, they overflow into the street. From that moment, until around 11:30 PM, the street is just one mass of people, aimlessly walking around, looking at each other. When Jim and I first saw the crowd effect, we thought a parade was coming up or something, but, waiting around to see, we found out we were mistaken. The people just walk around, from when end of the street to the other, and then disperse all of a sudden around 11:30. Frightful.

The next morning we headed for Sarajevo - We averaged 30 km an hour the whole way, and just made it that evening. Belgrade next night, a day there, a night outside the city (one dollar instead of $2.50 for the room), and, finally over the border to Greece. Beograd and Sarajevo together have nothing, but even nothing can be interesting if it comes in big enough quantities. We are now experts on Yugoslavia, but will never go through there again.

Greece gave us a great introduction. We were looking for a place to stay over the border, and immediately a crowd of Greeks on the side of the street gathered to help us out – lots of noise, advice, handshaking. What a country. After the night, we rose early, and drove past Thessaloniki, Salamis, through Thebes, and we were in fat city. The youth hostel was full, so we grabbed a room just off Constitution Square for $1.30 a night. (great, considering the location and the room), and we have been staying there ever since.  The acropolis, Agora, sound and light, and museums are behind our belts, and we are preparing to spread out. Tomorrow we hit Aegina for the day, and the last performance in the evening (Euripides the Bacchae: world premier one month ago so it should be good here).  Then we head back to Thebes, and further to Delphi, etc. with a friend, and then will be heading to the far east (in the Aegean).  

But about that when it comes. Send me the following info, either at Athens or Rome, where we will be in three months or so): when Bruce or Len are home towards the end of summer, and when they leave for school, and when their respective schools begin. Thank you.

Now back to the books - I have Mary Renault on my left, several mythologies on my right, and a large architecture book behind my neck. Hope your weather is hotter than it is here. (although I heard rumors of 104°.): they fried a few people in the sidewalk today.

Love,

Sam