It’s early, 7:30am. Filo sits outside a coffee and pita hole-in-the-wall, in the inner-city suburb of Psyri.

I order a freddo espresso and a mushroom pie and a frape for Filo.

He is a musician, who plays “Congolese, French and Greek music, it’s a similar sound.”

We speak in Greek. His English is poor and my French non-existent and I speak no Kingolo, or any Congo-based languages.

“Πήγα στο σχολείο για να μάθω ελληνικά για εννέα μήνες, (I went to school to learn Greek for nine months).”

Filo arrived in Greece “many years ago from Congo.”

And he is “a full citizen, a Greek” he says.

He’s is from “Kinshasa the capital”. The Second Congo War which sort of ended in 2003, made life difficult.

“The economy was very bad, things are better now, the government still lines its pockets,” he says gesturing with his left hand, grabs the air and shifts it to his back pocket.

“Armed gangs paid by Burundi, Rwanda, and Uganda attack Congo, for money, they kidnap and terrorise.”

“I live here now anyway,” he adds.

“Is there lots of racism in Greece?” I ask.

“No…, not really,” he stops to think, “it depends on the individual and the way they think, but I’ve been lucky lots of Greek friends have helped me.”

“Greeks are like Africans, they act the same, pale Africans” Filo laughs.

Filo has thoughts about going to France, especially as a Greek EU citizen and fluent French speaker. “I need to raise money first, and I think life can be gentler here.”

He’s fascinated that I come from Australia. “Greeks in Australia, so far away!”

I say “we were immigrants” like him.

“It’s good there, I hear there is lots of money, and lots of work” he’s has heard from others.

Filo had more venues to play at before in Psyri. “There are too many tourist bars now – not enough live music.” The tourists have also made it difficult to find a place to live.

The apartment in Psyri, where he lived, has become an Airbnb.

“The original owner sold my apartment, and the new owner made it an Airbnb and I can’t afford to live here anymore.”

Much of Psyri is now an Airbnb colonial outpost and Filo has been couch-surfing across friends’ places all summer.

“Winter is coming, and things will be hard, things are very expensive, and I need to find a job, the music is not enough.”

He waits for a friend who owns a shop across the café, where he can leave his guitar and amp and go out to search for work.

“I know of some painting jobs – lots of renovations around here but I’ve been playing all night and can’t take my guitar and amp with me.”