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The covid lunacy of Greece as we prepare for a most holy day – a Greek Post Office

Tom Winnifrith
Saturday 14 August 2021

Here in the little mountain village of Kambos, the closest settlement to the Greek Hovel,  we shake hands, few wear masks, there is no social distancing and all the other pointless measures our leaders ignore themselves but insist we sheeple follow are largely ignored. But as you head into towns there is a more deferential approach to the diktats from those who know better. Hence, I borrowed a mask from the Mrs as we headed into Kardamili to post three cards and a letter.

In Greece stamps can only be bought in Post Offices. And the dead hand of the state works only in the morning so Joshua was forced from his bed before ten am which he insisted was a breach of his basic human rights. Wait till September 2 my boy, and 7.30 wake up calls as you start school.

Joshua and I wandered into the Post Office as the Mrs headed off to window shop the overpriced “tuch” which Kardamili specialises in. I wore the borrowed face nappy. There were two other customers and two staff neither of whom were wearing masks. So I took mine off as I sat on a chair.

“Mask, mask” screamed an old harridan on the other chair. I looked at the workers who were maskless and said to the old bag“but they don’t work, you do know that don’t you, it won’t save you”.  Keen to diffuse the situation the man behind the counter decided to enforce the 2 customer rule which he had happily ignored for a few minutes and which was made even more ludicrous by the temporary presence in his office of a second worker, there only to collect mail.  So I had to walk outside and the old bag, who on reflection was only a few years older than I am, smirked.

A few minutes later I walked back in as the only customer. Joshua was by this time enjoying a lemonade with the Mrs who had, rightly, concluded that the shops had nothing to offer. I wore a soiled and sweaty face nappy which, even your average street cat would recognise as utterly pointless and walked up to a counter where the man, sheepishly put on his pointless mask and sold me stamps for my three cards, an envelope and a stamp for that letter – a work related missive to my pals at the IRS on a matter I have done further investigations into while here in Greece.

You have to lick stamps here in Greece so I took off my mask and licked the stamps putting them onto the cards and sealed envelope handing them, still maskless, to the man.  I imagine many other folks, even that poisonous mask fanatic are forced to remove their sweat laden face nappies to lick stamps in that small Post Office. Does that very necessary act make it a hub of super spreading of Covid?  What do you think?

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About Tom Winnifrith
Tom Winnifrith is the editor of When he is not harvesting olives in Greece, he is (planning to) raise goats in Wales.
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