The very street over whose reopening, or not, there is now so much fuss. It was the era when we were carefree and young.
It was back when Vissi and Karvelas were still inseparable. DISY was one party and not three or four, and AKEL was not searching among influencers and right-wingers for its candidate for the presidential elections. And kolokasi could not become a gourmet dish. Only pork suited it.
That is how Makariou was too. After you had cruised up and down in that old car your dad gave you so people would see you, once along Makariou and once along Stasikratous, you would then find somewhere to park (with difficulty), you would do the rounds at the (Christmassy)
City Plaza for the glass lift, you would go into that basement shop on Makariou to buy your singer’s cassette, and then you would end up, if not at Da Capo, which was packed with people, at some other café to drink a frappé with milk, or a cappuccino if you were the softie of the group.
