The streets of Loutraki burned last Sunday night. And threading my hire car through a bunch of angry protestors wasn't going well. I opened my window and offered a tentative "kali spera". A thick-set fellow of six-and-a-bit feet slapped his hand on the roof, leaned into the car and glowered at me.
And then smiled.
"Rally?" he enquired.
I got the feeling rally was a good thing, so I nodded enthusiastically.