This picture is of an artist's workshop near where I live, He has a 'totem pole'or perhaps a 'whare runanga'in his courtyard that looks like Poseidon or Tangaroa.
Now, down to my efforts to get my entry permit fixed. Yesterday I walked, following the directions Nick gave me, and finally located the Police Station, a new building down a narrow lane behind the new Gertman Embassy. These policement were in uniforms reminiscent of Blue Heelers, Lisa Kudrow would have looked cute in a pink singlet, but there were only males visible. The sergeant who beckoned me into his office without rising from his desk reminded me of the young cop who had an affair with the publican. Anyway I explained, slowly, that I needed my entry permit extended. He had a rapid conversation with the other policeman in the office before telling me I would have to go to my own ambassador, He had not yet invited me to sit.
"He's in Rome,"I told him, very tempted to add "Greece is not important enough to warrant and embassy," but realised that such an assertion would add nothing to my case. I handed him the address the courteous officer in Heraklion had given me,
He rang the number, and his voice almost came to attention when the other guy spoke. He took my passport, photocopied it then said, "You call this number to-morrow;"
Si, not wishing to appear too impatient I waited until 3 p.m. and rang the number.
The police station is closed, I have to ring in the morning.
In the words of the toyota add Bugger!
I wonder, if I ignore the regulations and happily spend an extra month here, it would probably take them six months to catch up with me. If they stopped me at Athens airport what could they do? Deport me? Great, I would be going home anyway,
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