"Alex sensed my unease and put his arm round my shoulder, pulling me tight towards him. "It's okay Lorna. It always goes like this on Greek demonstrations, just this one is very big. If often turns into a confrontation between anarchists and MAT. The speeches will be held up if a bomb really has gone off but I'm not bothered about the speeches. The only one worth listening to will be Alexis Tsipras of SYRIZA. Anyone further Left doesn't get a look in."
I had seen Tsipras on television and understood a fair amount of what he said. He seemed to me to be a pretty charismatic figure and the coalition was doing well in the opinion polls. The late afternoon temperature was dropping but I could feel my own rising as my cheek rested on Alex's coat. Once I let my fear and anxiety go I became aware of the streaks of pink and violet sky that sprawled like a canopy about Panepistemiou and its mass of human energy. I knew I would never forget the experience. This was no outpouring of disaffected, spoilt, middle class youth. Yes,
they were here as well. But the bulk of the demonstrators were an eclectic mix of young, middle and elderly. Pensioners were highly visible and vocal. Firefighters, wielding flares, marched in their uniforms. Militant teachers and their students, even nursery workers were represented. I saw two Greek Orthodox priests marching side by side in their robes, their heads protected by skufia. I guess the kalimvaki, the tall priest's hats, would have been too tempting as targets for missile throwers. I took all this in and I thought of the three thousand five hundred years of history that all these amazing faces reflected." (p251)
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