Into the Mountains

 Sept 29

I woke up excited to shower in the spiffy bathroom, but the best that rain shower head would give me was off-cool. Harumph. Breakfast was a tomato omelet in the same port-side restaurant where we sat for hours last night. Then I had to figure out how to get us out of town, when the one route west was blocked. It meant backtracking some 5 km, but it worked.

Woman fishing, Nafpaktos

To get from mainland Greece to the Peloponnese at the western end, there are two routes. One is the Rio-Antirrio Bridge, a 2-km suspension bridge that costs a toll of €15 to cross, or one of two ferries that depart directly below the bridge and shuttle back and forth all day, a 20-minute crossing that costs €8. We took the ferry, naturally. After using Google to arrive at a port that appears to be defunct, we quickly found the right port, and drove right onto the ship. 

Sister ferry to the one we rode, beside the Rio-Antirrio Bridge

Because there’s no real tide in the Mediterranean, docking ferries is quite a different matter than back home. Here, these ferries pull up to the paved shore, drop a ramp, and away we go. So fast! 

Our route took us first on a major toll highway, and then up into the mountains on a lot of hairpin turns. The road in the hills was wider than I’d expected for these parts, and though the going was slow, it wasn't too nerve-jangling.

Mega Spileo Monastery, named for the cliffs above it

Early in the planning stages for this trip, I’d found a cog train that winds through the spectacular Vouraikos Gorge, and I thought we’d take this little train through the gorge to a village called Kato Zachlorou, have lunch, then catch the train back down. A couple of months ago, I realized the train had been shut down due to safety concerns (falling rock, again), so I looked into hiking into the canyon instead, from Zachlorou. Well, it seems the season is over in these parts, because none of the several tavernas in Zachlorou were open, and we hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The trail head wasn’t obvious, and there was no one to ask. We ended up just walking the track for a bit, then turning back when it appeared that there wouldn’t be much in the way of scenery. 

Currently unused train station in the village of Kato Kachlorou

Creek beside the station

We drove on to Kalavryta to our hotel for the night, had lunch and a walk around this little ski resort. Here we find a lot less English spoken, but we get by with gestures and pointing. These interactions are a highlight for me of any trip. Kalavryta a pleasant town, with a lot of pharmacies and grocery stores and hardly any trinket shops. 

Great name for a pizza joint, an in-joke for anti conspiracy theorists

Kalavryta kitty

 

 

 

 

To Delphi and Beyond

 Sept 27

To Delphi

We had arranged to have a rental car brought to us. The driver was texting as he came, saying he couldn’t get here, because the one road into the area happened to be the road where the explosion happened the other day, and it was crowded with police and the press. He finally found a way around, which involved a bit of walking. He was a lovely young guy who learned to speak English by playing games and watching movies. He drove us to the edge of town so we didn’t have to negotiate Athens traffic. Brilliant! The company is Swift, if anyone’s interested.

Carol and I made an agreement that she would drive on the first day, getting us out of Athens, and I would drive on the last, taking us to the airport. Either one is a bit scary, but Carol was masterful driving standard, which neither of us has done for several decades. 

After long, green flatlands in wind and some rain, we wound up into the mountains and the sun came out. At the end of the 180 km drive, we came upon a long line of parked cars and buses, all parked for visiting the ancient site. We carried on into town and had fun parking. Lots of fun.

We were too early to check in to the Hotel Leto, so we grabbed lunch — dishes are made for sharing here, and our Greek Salad would have been enough for three or four people — and wandered the town, which consisted of two streets of hotels, restaurants, and trinket shops. Yes, the Trinket Cartel is here.

Steps lead between the lower road and the upper road in Delphi

 

We checked in to our room with a view out to the distant turquoise Gulf of Corinth and down to a lively street below. We took our mandatory afternoon rest, deciding that we’d do better to see the Delphi Archeological site and museum in the morning to beat the majority of the crowds, which come up here by the busload on day trips from Athens.  

We bought mini-bottles of white wine in the lobby of our hotel, and drank them at sunset on the rooftop garden, then finally had an actually good dinner tonight just across the street, a pastitsio that was as creamy and subtly spiced as I remembered. We have gotten into the habit of eating late, like the locals, and so we stumbled off to bed right after dinner.

Wine from the bottle -- more attractive than the glasses they offered

Good night kitties -- at the hotel doors

Sept 28

Delphi

The Greeks pronounce it Delph-eye, that is, with a long i. It’s hard to get used to saying it that way. Anyhow, we had breakfast with a view, then checked out of the hotel, loading our stuff in the car which was parked a hilltop away, opting to walk the kilometre to the ancient site rather than risk not finding parking any closer, or anywhere. It was a beautiful morning, and the views down the valley were stunning.

Between the town and the ruins

We didn’t quite beat the tour groups, but we managed to weave our way through them to get ahead for a relatively peaceful climb through the site. It consists of a couple of small reconstructed buildings and a lot of partial pillars outlining once magnificent structures. These places require some imagination on the part of the visitor. 

 

The Treasury, the only standing (reconstructed) building at Ancient Delphi

Delphi is known for its oracle, to which the ancients made pilgrimages in hopes of obtaining her blessings or advice. The oracle/priestess was an old woman, or likely a succession of old women, who sat atop a tripod over a fissure in the earth within the inner sanctum of the Temple of Apollo. Pilgrims would pose their questions (after sacrificing an animal or two), and she would answer in gibberish, which the priests would translate into some kind of cryptic message. I suppose one would interpret however one wanted. I believe mistakes were made of a magnitude that changed the course of history.

Bronze pillar in foreground, Temple of Apollo behind. You can see the ramp leading into the temple, once climbed by some rather famous pilgrims seeking advice.

The Temple of Apollo. The sanctuary would have been where the broken stone platform appears.

Folklore has attributed the priestess’s trance to vapours emitting from the fissure beneath her perch. This idea was considered myth until some twenty years ago, when geologists re-examined the site and found that the Temple of Apollo sits directly over the intersection of two geological fault lines. Testing local spring water, traces of ethylene were found. Ethylene’s sweet aroma matches the descriptions of the vapours in the folklore, and ethylene, when inhaled in small doses, induces euphoria, altered speech patterns, and uninhibited free association. Kinda like what was reported about the high priestess of Delphi.

Above the Temple site is a beautiful amphitheatre and a stadium that hosted the Pythian Games, lesser games to the Olympics. These were impressive, but I would say that the most impressive thing about Delphi, aside from its historical importance, is its setting on the slopes of Mount Parnassus. Magnificent.

Amphitheatre above the Temple of Apollo

Stadium, the site of the Pythian Games, one of the Panhellenic Games, some 2500 years ago

We made our way down to the road, to the museum, which holds sculptures, friezes, and other artifacts once found in the site. I’ve come to realize that nothing other than large buildings is left in situ anymore; rightfully, all the impressive pieces are held in museums for their protection.

 A sphinx who once sat upon a very tall pillar. I don't generally associate the sphinx with Greece, but I have seen several examples in museums here

The remains of sculptures from the pediment of the Temple of Apollo. Tour guide included for scale.

The most recognizable structure in Delphi, the circular temple with three standing (reconstructed) pillars, is in the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia, across the highway from the main site. This area is closed to the public at the moment, due to some concern about rockfall. This is disappointing. I have a memory of wandering about that area, but if some of my other “memories” of that time are an indication, that may well not have happened. 

The Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia, viewed with a telephoto lens from a great distance away

We walked back up through the town to get the car. It was my turn to drive, and while the stick shift felt like second nature to me, I managed to drive us in a full circle on tiny one-way roads before getting out of town. We hairpinned down to the sea, then followed the coastline to Nafpaktos, next stop on our trek. The highway was good. The speed limit was 60 most of the time, but I drove a comfortable 70, because 60 seemed too slow for the road, and the Greeks drove about 100. The double lines in the middle of the road are just a suggestion, apparently.

The fun really began when we got to Nafpaktos and discovered that the road we needed to use to get to our apartment was closed, the pavement having been torn up just today. We circled several times, trying to find some route that would get us close, and finally settled for what looked like the only acceptable parking spot in town, on a street that I hope we can find again. We walked and climbed our gear the three blocks or so to the apartment, where we were welcomed by a view that made the hassle worth it.

Welcome sight

And a gorgeous bathroom, but the shower never did get warm

 

By this time, we were sweaty and exhausted and when we let ourselves into our spacious apartment, we collapsed for a good hour. Hunger for lunch had long-since passed, so we decided to get a double scoop of gelato instead. We explored the Venetian port, far tinier than we expected, wondered at the mega-yacht anchored just outside the harbour walls, gazed at the Peloponnese across the gulf. Carol dipped her toes in the sea and reported that it’s the temperature of a warm lake. 

Gelato eases all distress

Archway through the walls of the Venetian Port. Note my super-yacht in the background.

We had a beer at one of the many harbourside establishments, and stayed on for a sunset dinner, sitting among mostly locals who weren’t anywhere near ready for dinner yet. As it got dark, we made our way home, plugged in our devices, and settled for a well-deserved sleep.

Refreshments!

 

I can't resist posting a bunch of sunset shots in the Venetian Harbour of Nafpaktos, where all the tourists are Greek.

Athens, Day 4 -- Ceremonies and Visits

 Sept 26

 

We woke to a light rain, but by the time we set out on our day’s adventure, it had let up. Think cloudy summer day — that was today in Athens. Quite pleasant.

The main mission today was to meet up with an old friend of Carol who lives part time in Athens. The route to his place happened to be close to the Parliament Buildings, where the changing of the guards occurs every hour. The most elaborate of these ceremonial changes happens at 11 am, and we were there, along with several hundred other tourists. We waited in the almost-rain, until at last, at 11:15, an army-style truck rolled out and backed up to the stairs where two guards were waiting, doing their guard thing of pretending to be statues. A camo-dressed soldier hopped out, opened up the back, and helped a costumed guard down. Said guard did a high stepping march to replace one of the statues, who high-stepped to the truck and climbed in. Then the second new guard came out to replace the second statue. The truck then drove away. That was it. Faces in the crowd looked rather bewildered, and everyone meandered off. 

Guards waiting for the non-event

Carol and I then strolled in the National Garden, adjacent to the Parliament Buildings, a forested chunk of relief in the busy city. 

 

National Garden

At one border of the Garden is the 60,000 seat Panathenaic Stadium, built as — a stadium! — back in 330 BCE, after which it went the way of many a ruin, disappearing under soil and foliage until it was excavated in the mid 19th Century.  It was then refurbished for the first of the modern Olympics in 1896, then used again for the 2004 Olympics. We paid the €6 (seniors’ rate) for the privilege of walking on the blue track. Some people were doing mock runs, of course. It was tempting to do that, a little bit. Maybe.

Should we run? Heck no, we might hurt ourselves!

Leaving the Stadium, walking along a leafy boulevard, we happened upon a changing of the guards that’s not advertised but much more elaborate than the advertised one. I recorded a bit of it. 

It was then time to head to meet Carol’s friend, Rodger, Schmidt. First, some info about Carol. She was a high-level competitive curler in the mid-70s to mid-80s, Early on her team won Junior Canadians. She started skipping (leading the team) in the early 80s. Around that time, she invited a young player named Sandra Schmerler to join the team. As we know, Sandra became something of a Canadian hero, leading the Canadian team to win Olympic Gold in Nagano in 1998.

Carol met Rodger at the University of Saskatchewan, where he was also a curler. He eventually moved to Germany and Switzerland, opening a curling academy, where he trained curling coaches, and coached numerous champion European teams over the years. He has now retired from that, spending his time, along with his wife, in Athens and Lucerne, Switzerland. He’s one of those Energizer Bunny types, now spending his time writing novels, poetry, and songs. He performs solo at a local Taverna, and also plays with a jazz trio that includes a piano player who was once Frank Sinatra’s piano man. 

I walk among giants!

My highly-accomplished best friends!

Rodger took us on a “short loop” walk (if this was short, I’m rather glad we didn’t do a long one!) in his neighbourhood, which straddles the line between an upscale shopping district and the university district where students and anarchists roam the streets and stage the occasional demonstration. Police move in with tear gas, that kind of thing. Today was peaceful, as Rodger gave us a bit of history of Athens and the elaborate buildings of the Academy of Athens.

The Academy of Athens, with Athena on her very high pedestal, and Lycabettus Hill in the background

After parting ways with Rodger (so that he could work on his second novel, sheesh), we were meant to climb Lycabettus Hill, the highest point in Athens, affording great views down onto the Acropolis. After climbing up the streets below the hill, the rocky face looked like too much for us, so we chickened out. We made our way home through districts with nary a tourist in sight.

After a rather long nap break, we went for a late dinner at a lively Taverna around the corner from our place. Live music, clapping patrons, the occasional dancing drunk. A fine last evening in Athens!

p.s. In case anyone think us lazy for not climbing mountains or running Olympic tracks, you should realize we are putting in an average of 18,000 steps a day. Not slouches!

 

 

 

Athens, Day 3: Gritty Neighbourhoods and Hilltop Temples

 Sept 25

Today it was Carol’s turn to sleep in. Our circadian rhythms have not fully re-set yet. We feel okay, however. Sort of.

We took a late morning walk through a neighbourhood called Psirri, adjacent to the Plaka, where tourism hasn’t (yet) hit. It was a graffiti-covered, gritty, work-a-day commercial area, a complete contrast with the sparkly thotchke streets just blocks south. It reminded me of India, a little, or Morocco. It was a reminder that this definitely is not Northern Europe.

Monastiraki Square, the start of our Psirri walk

We passed through spice row and into the public market. I don’t know how it happened, but what ought to have been a produce market turned out to be a meat market, bigger than I’ve ever seen, alley after alley of hanging carcasses. We did not love it, and I did not take photos. The fish market, as usual, made me wonder how on earth there are any fish left in the sea. 

Spices

Sausage

Olives

The vendors who display these fish are artists

For lunch we stopped in “Souvlaki Row,” adjacent to Monastiraki Square, for an obigatory (and cheap) Gyro. It was awful. 

After a rest, it was time for our visit to the Acropolis Museum. This is a gorgeous, modern building with lots of space, in case the British Museum decides to return the so-called “Elgin Marbles” to their place of origin. The excuse in the past has been that Athens had no place to house the reliefs safely. The Acropolis museum has an astounding number of remarkable artifacts, including the original Caryatids from the Erechtheion, a temple on the Acropolis. It also has an astounding number of guards stopping people from photographing or touching the artifacts. I’m not sure what the rationale is for not taking photos of these marble statues, but I hope people understand that everything will be put behind glass if they can’t keep their hands off them. As it is, for now, it’s wonderful to be able to get within centimetres of these ancient sculptures, to almost feel the hand of the sculptor.

 

Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and protector of young women. No one would dare accost a young woman with this one looking on!

The Caryatids of Erechtheion. These ones are the originals, while copies are in place on the Acropolis. These acted as pillars. Note the folds of their gowns representing the fluted surface of traditional pillars, and the thick braids buttressing necks that would be too fine for supporting the weight of a portico.

After the museum, we crossed the road to climb the Acropolis itself. While I expected something strenuous, it was really somewhat less than climbing George Hill on Pender Island, and with much greater reward. 

On the way up the hill: Odeon of Herodes Atticus. They put plays on here in the summer, but we've missed them by a couple of weeks.

After passing through the impressive entranceway, the Parthenon took my breath away. It is huge! Much bigger than I remember — or maybe it’s that I was less easily impressed at 19 years old, I don’t know. But this temple inspires awe by it’s size, to say nothing of it’s classic proportions, the definition of beauty, really. 

If you're lucky, you can sneak a moment where it looks like you're alone in the ruins

This suffering horse is probably a copy of the original horse that is suffering in the British Museum

I was mostly right about not being able to get a shot without people in it nowadays, but near the end of our visit, I was able to get up close and catch a shot. The multitudes are on this hill these days. We arrived around 4:30, and the crowd kept growing as the day cooled and the sun moved towards the horizon. By the time we left, there was hardly room to move. 

Close enough to eliminate people, but the wide angle lens distorts the proportions, which is what the Parthenon is all about, in my opinion

Views from the Acropolis 

We've heard there was an explosion in our neighbourhood this morning. It happened in the short street leading up to Hadrian's Arch. It's in the lower left of this photo, a street in shadows. If you zoom in, you can see the rubble and some machinery. I didn't know about the explosion when I took this photo, and I didn't notice what was going on in the street. This was a terrible tragedy for some tourists just like us.

 The Ancient Agora

 

Our accommodations, A Painter's House in Plaka. I zoomed in to get this shot. Our place is in the right-hand wing of the yellow building, which faces away from this view. The huge trees are in our courtyard. 

 

Carol had made us reservations at a restaurant called Anefani, a couple of blocks from our apartment. We climbed up and up and up to a busy rooftop, and had cocktails and dinner under the full moon, in the light of the Acropolis. Another perfect evening.