Turns out, Googling ‘how to move to Athens’ hasn’t fixed my problems. Instead, it’s confused them. So far, a good option could be a nomad visa, which could let me work in Greece remotely for two years, providing I meet criteria after one year. The only problem is I need a remote job to pay me at least three grand a month, and my job does not fit that bill.
My ankle almost gives way on the grassy terrain. Sam powers on, unperturbed.
‘Have you been here before?’
‘A year ago,’ Sam calls. ‘It used to be a worship site for Pan.’
‘Who is Pan?’
‘God of the wild,’ Sam replies. ‘And a gay icon.’
As I walk, I Google Pan, opening a new tab so as not to lose all the overwhelming information about Greek immigration. It presents me with images of literal pans, before I refine my search, and I’m greeted with images of a half-goat, half-man with a very large phallus.
‘He looks interesting.’ Tim would like Pan.
‘He’s a very primal god,’ Sam replies, letting me catch up with him. ‘You might see a few statues of him still dotted around the place.’
‘Why was he worshipped in a cave?’
‘Nature was the church,’ Sam says. ‘And where better to worship the god of nature than in his own domain?’
We continue to walk, not seeing a soul, just the two of us. The path descends, before disappearing all together, leaving us walking hand in hand over the rocky outcrop.
‘Is that it?’ I ask, looking into the dark mouth of what I’d assumed would be the cave entrance.
‘The very one.’
As we get closer, we climb down steps carved into stone, clutching on rope threaded through rock.
‘They get lots of people rock climbing here,’ Sam explains, glancing up at the jagged cliff edge above us. ‘But people like me would rather stay on the ground.’
‘It isn’t going to be one of those caves where you feel claustrophobic, is it?’
‘Nah, we’ll just step inside the entrance and have a sit down,’ Sam says. ‘Catch our breath. Plus, I brought food.’
‘I love food.’
My eyes take time to adjust to the dark, so I lean against the rock for support. It feels cool on the surface, but somehow, the heat has trapped itself inside. This dim clearing may as well be the wolves’ lair. I almost expect them to laugh at us.
Like hyenas.
Except they are wolves.
As Sam hands me a tuna baguette made by him, I picture a wolf leaping at us and eating our food, before eating us.
‘Well, this is nice, isn’t it?’
‘You’re on edge,’ Sam notes, getting ready to take the first bite.
‘Wolves.’
‘They won’t be in here,’ he reassures, giving me that calm Sam face.
‘Are you the wolf man or something?’
‘Do you want me to be?’
It’s just the two of us inside this cave, and unconfirmed wolves. The picture of Pan with his phallus comes to mind.
