We’re sitting on the roof terrace of a restaurant at the foot of the Acropolis, with the brightly lit temple above us. But the mood among the company this evening is far from good. “I’ll never forgive those Syriza guys to the point that, thanks to them, I almost want the Conservatives to win the election,” one of the women there tells me. “Last week I spoke to my Dad, an old communist, who always stood firm in the fight against right-wingers. I sort of muttered under my breath: ‘Shouldn’t one for once not consider voting for the Conservatives?’ And even my Dad said: ‘Well worth thinking about.’ And if even he’s gone that far…”