in the summer of 1966 we hitch-hiked to Greece. We had both learnt a few words of Greek, but it was Lena’s reading about ancient Greece and her study of drama that enriched and inspired our visits to the Parthenon, Mycenae and Epidaurus. 

We did use our Russian on one occasion. We were trying to have a little rest in a park and some guys kept hassling us. So we pretended to be Russian. Within minutes they had dug out some hapless Russian emigré, who was thrilled to bits that he might meet some young Soviet women. He did kindly see off the pesterers, but we felt very guilty to disappoint him.

It was Lena’s brilliant idea to clamber up to the Parthenon so early in the morning. The man sweeping was the only other person there. It was magical.