Happy Accidents

Ripped pants and Athenian cobblestones.

It’s been a hot minute since I got myself together enough to go out for a drink, let alone to sit thoughtfully with the experience and write about it. Luckily I went on vacation last month, and spent a day in Athens doing some of my favorite things: walking around, rifling through vintage shops, and grabbing one (or three) drinks. I’ve only ever found myself exploring a foreign city completely alone once or twice before, and I was eager to trudge around the city. Naturally, I had to start by falling into a pothole, flinging my phone across the alley, and ripping my pants. There was only one place to from here: The Clumsies.

With the feel of a bar slash grandfather’s home office, this place was full of wood, secretary lamps, and odd little tchochkies. The menus fit this theme too, created from old hardback books. Each drink takes its name from a Happy Accident, and they all capture uncertainty and delight of an unexpected twist of fate. I had “Missing the Train” and “Discovering the Venus de Milo.” Fermented yogurt garnish and homemade mead, thyme bitters in a martini variation, all paired with truffle burger sliders? Hell yeah. While the cocktails were decent, not awe-inspiring, the whimsicaltake on craft cocktailing was a welcome way to start my afternoon.

Once the sun went down and I donned my impractical cool-girl outfit of a vintage cowboy shirt, lace bustier, jeans, and doc martens, it was time to venture out to Baba au Rum. I skirted the tiki-inspired drinks in favor of The Pearl Fisher, a low-abv amaro and cherry blossom tonic combo that I still think about almost daily. I made some small talk with the bartenders and one of the other guests, downed a fruity and light second drink, and left the riot of color behind to head back to the hotel. I had my headphones on (Midnight Ride by Orville Peck, of course), I looked badass, and I knew it.

This moment, this feeling of walking down a city street, feeling anonymous and autonomous, walking back from a good bar, this was a version of myself I hadn’t been since living in New York in 2019. Five years later, this breeze of freedom and fun is delicious to me. I love being alone and out in the world. After the forced loneliness of 2020 and 2021, I lost the joy of solitude, along with so many friendships as time stretched its jaws to swallow intimacies.So this delight, the walks through sunny sidewalks and uneven alleys, is a friend I am delighted to feel warmly embrace me as I slip off the slick Plaka street into my hotel room, patch the hole in my pants, and fall asleep below the Acropolis’ silhouette.

Cheers.