I am back from a microtrip to Greece, the highlight of which was a short walk around the spectacular village of Oia in Santorini, a place that has been dear to me since I first visited it twelve years ago. Otherwise, the trip highlighted the increasing cultural incongruity between myself and the collective nous of my birth country. Orthodox priests raised their voices in anger on TV to claim that Dan Brown wrote the Da Vinci Code in order to undermine the church. Olympic Airlines streamed Eurovision songs through the airplane’s PA system as it taxied along in Heathrow, without any tongue anywhere near a cheek. And the service on the flight was reassuringly deplorable, making me embarrassed of the first impression my country seemed content to engender in its visitors.

The food was amazing!

Not on the plane.