In July 2003, I was in Greece for a Socialist Youth camp. It was a pretty amazing experience, with 7,000 youths in one campsite by the beach, sharing and learning together. After the camp, we (the group from Malaysia) spent a few days in Athens seeing the sights.
I was up at 6am to go exploring the Anafiotika area with its whitewashed houses (which lies in the shadow of the Acropolis) -- a la the touristy Greek island images you often see -- when I decided to stop for breakfast. I was the only one in this family-run restaurant and the owner sought to make pleasant but limited conversation with me (his English was pretty hopeless and my Greek was non-existent). He then decided he was going to pluck me a bunch of grapes! Isn't that sweet of him?
Moments like this are one of the main reasons why I love travelling so much.
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