I have been avidly reading the recent posts of Kate Shrewsday, Andra and MTM, not that I haven’t found their previous posts equally provoking as a day doesn’t pass without my gaining some insight from their considered words . It’s the concept of the selection of 7 wonders of the world that has attracted my attention, and the fact that these wonders should be architectural. Architects are slowly sliding into the same bracket as footballers, by which I mean star architects and star footballers but in the end that includes all of them as, by their very nature, they all aspire to be stars. Showered with praise and money these golden geese only lay useless golden eggs which do nothing to truly help us, humanity, but sit balanced on their pointed ends in their magnificent pavilions demanding the massage of our adulation. A golden egg is certainly wonderful and the bigger it is the more wonderful it becomes. I remember shooting one of these wonders, the Acropolis, for a Nescafé ad for Japan. I know the Acropolis isn’t included in the Magnificent 7 but I’ve brought him off the bench in the no.12 shirt. The plan hatched by the agency was that the vision of a cup of Nescafe , the account director’s premier wonder of the world due to the wonderful Nestlé budget that fell like a shower of gold into the agency’s coffers, would be slightly improved, though it was hard for him to imagine what could possibly improve the client’s product by an iota, would be the diffused image of the sun rising behind the Acropolis in the background of the shot. The fly in this ointment was the young photographer who gave not a fig for Nescafé but, in the short time that he had spent in Athens preparing for the shoot, had built a strong and emotional relationship with ouzo. Ouzo and sunrise don’t mix well particularly when sunrise occurs at exactly the same time as young photographers fall down unconscious from an excess of ouzo. The full walleted tourists continue to stare in wonder at the glory of the Acropolis whilst missing the wonder of a modern European country in total meltdown all around them.
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I’ll have to tell you the ouzo story one day
I’ll be waiting:)
I find that Ouzo works better with sunset. I seem to remember a girlfriend getting so drunk on the stuff that she ate a whole tube of toothpaste before falling asleep on the bathroom floor!
Very nice light supper:)
Ouzo, I have no memory of it (laughter!). I do however really like that horse shot. I do hope you got the shot of the cup of sunrise before falling on your face.. oh dear.. c
There’s going to be blog of the whole Nescafe trip which included Madrid, Athens and Copenhagen. It could be entitled “Falling Down in Capitals”:)
Ouzo? Never had the ‘pleasure.’ But you have conjured from the fog some not-quite memories of Tequila…there’s a reason they call it “Ta-KILL-ya”…
Tequila,ouzo, raki any set of letters full of alcohol – they all hurt:)
If you look at my liquor “collection”, you’ll find nary a drop of ouzo nor grappa. Yet, put me in Greece or Italy and, suddenly, I cannot get enough of the stuff. Well, I do have a limit for each I just cannot seem to remember them when required. One thing’s for certain,though, never in my wildest dreams would I think it possible for me to rise before dawn to capture a photo of anything in either country.
You have the perfect qualifications to be account director of the Japanese Nescafe account:)
Ahhh.. ouzo was my partner while in my 20′s.. an able and willing partner, we’d dance many a night away! His flame shone brightly many a night! I have such fond memories of him! I think more photographers should become stars! I love your golden horses…
Photographers end up falling down and seeing stars:)
Ouzo may have to work its way into the series, Roger, now that you’ve brought it up.
Please don’t talk about bringing Ouzo up, Andra:)
I really enjoyed this post. Your wry commentary made me chuckle.
Thanks, Leta, glad you enjoyed it and thanks for stopping by.
We learned at an early age how to drink ouzo (my father being Greek) and rule number one was never before breakfast. Our Dad was quite sensible that way. Again, you made me laugh with your story, and feel a tinge of sadness too. You have a way of doing that. You’re a bit of a truth-teller Roger. Thanks for that! (And I adore the shot of the horses. Really lovely!)
Thank you. Antoinette. and I’ll take heed of your father’s wise words. No more OUzo with my Kellogs:)
Great Lewis Carroll reference!
He’s the best, isn’t he:)
Ouzo? Raki? Even tequila? No, actually: they all taste somewhat like medicine to this wineloving gal
! But remember being surprised when spending a summer in Hungary way back: in EVERY HOME, EVERY MORNING a tray of small glasses was handed around with apricot brandy ere breakfast was served. On Sundays a second glass was allowed 
! Supposedly to get the heart pumping and circulation moving!!
There is a medicinal taste to a lot of the dynamite alcohols, but none as bad as the digestif “Fernet Branca”. Apricot brandy for breakfast sounds extreme – apricot jam I can do:)
Actually: the ruddy stuff is pure white, a little similar to calvados [which I love!] and non-fruity!! Am I not a good source for inconsequential info
? Agree about Fernet Branca!!
Alcools blancs are my weakness as in Pillar of Weakness. I need to avoid them:)
Ouzo has been the downfall of many young men! Lovely comparison
And I, dear Lord, am one:)
Funny! I cannot imagine going to see the Acropolis having drunk Ouzo! The mere thought of going there it causes me fatigue. I went to Greece last year and the way to the Acropolis was very exhausting! I wonder what Athena goddess might have thought about a Nescafé cup among the Acropolis monuments such as the Parthenon!
I remember each of those endless steps up to the Acropolis. I preferred the view from the roof terrace of the Athens Hilton with a glass of Ouzo in my hand:)
Great story and photo. I have a really low tolerance for alcohol, so avoided ouzo in Greece. I was also traveling with a teetotaler boyfriend. That’ll ruin any buzz.
I didn’t realise how low my tolerance to alcohol was until I became a test pilot for Ouzo:)
Ha ha!
It looks like there are some “collected memories” of ouzo nights, or maybe that should be “vague memory of ouzo” – me included !
Through a glass very dimly:)