Monasteries on Rocks

"It's a good trail."

I could tell from the young woman's hiking boots and glowing expression it would, indeed, be a good trail.

I gratefully accepted the walking stick (tree limb) her companion was ready to discard as they left the trail.

I clambered over rocks and headed away from the idling tour buses.

Views from a Rooftop Bar

"Great view."

I kept looking at the Acropolis. Then I realized I was being spoken to. I turned around to see a man in his 70's. I muttered something in agreement.

Hearing my accent he started a "Your Country" routine about British politics.

"Wrong country," I interrupted.

Once he determined my actual citizenship he started another "Your Country" routine, this time directed at American national politics.

"I don't talk politics in bars."

He deftly switched course to prime ministerial politics in his country, New Zealand.

"Sir, I do not talk politics in bars."

But I now had an inroad. I enthused about trekking in his country.

This led to a decent conversation about our daily lives--stuff that unites rather than divides us.