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Thanks, Pete & Phyllis

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Once on the island the topography changes as we drive along the gulf of Evia, across mountains reaching the Aegean sea on the east coast of the island. With our stomachs empty Stamatis asks if we would like to stop and have some “real” Greek food. But of course! He pulls in at what looked like an abandoned old warehouse right on the waters edge where there’s a scruffy looking guy hosing down wooden chairs. Stamatis said, “Oh no, I think they’re closed”. I thought, have they ever been open? After a brief conversation in Greek with the chair washer (who turns out is the owner), a table and some dry chairs are placed on the open air, paint peeling portico, where we are amazed at the presentation of the plate after plate of “real” Greek food. All of the vegetables come from their garden and the fish right from the sea at your feet. My favorite dish was the beans which resemble lima beans but bigger, brown, and perfectly seasoned with some herb I’ve never heard of or tasted before. We have traditional Greek salad, beets with roots, bread, fried zucchini (or a close cousin) and finally fried fish. The fish is WHOLE, head and all. Very mild and quite tasty if you don’t mind the fish looking back at you while you eat it. The owner brings out a plate of candied figs and plums to finish us off. You must understand that Greeks are very generous and hospitable and would be offended if you didn’t eat what they offered so in spite of feeling like we would bust, we forged on and finished them off.

Then it was back in the car for a short trip along the coast to the seashore or “paralia” in the “lower” section of Kymi where we check into a lovely hotel with magnificent views right on the water. Stamatis arranged our reservations and our stay was his gift. The only drawback being that we were on the 3rd floor and had 4 flights to walk up with our heavy luggage, no elevators here. (Peter didn’t mind too much and carried them all without dropping anything.)

After settling in Stamatis left us to go to his house in “upper” Kymi where his mother lives which is a short drive up the mountain, while we laid down for a siesta. The Greeks take this siesta thing fairly seriously. For about 2 hours in the afternoon from about 3 – 5 most everything shuts down, including the pool below our balcony which was noisy with children playing and running around, but from 3:30 to 5:30 silence falls as they pool is closed and doors shut for siesta. We sleep for almost two hours and awake, refreshed, relaxed, and in very loving moods. Maybe these Greeks are really on to something!

We go for a walk along the shore and back passing lots of tavernas and café’s at the harbors edge. We pass one taverna that has hanging out front (as an invitation for good seafood according to Stamatis) several fairly good sized octopus or is that octipie? Anyway, it’s quite quaint and a lovely little fishing harbor.

Stamatis returns to pick us up for a short drive up to Kymi to pick up his mother for dinner. The roads going up wind around and around with rather elaborate shrines for those who died on the drive up dotting the road. (Very reassuring!) Every year they hold road rallies here and the sharpest curves are lined with tires much like the grand prix. Stamatis' mother is 90 years old, a spry little woman who gets around like she’s 20 years younger. (Which comes in handy since most everything here involves going up or down, including getting to a “toilette” all of which for one reason or another are down a flight of stairs.) No handicap stalls here! Merika is her name and she has the most lovely expressive eyes through which she express her curiosity and love. Few words are needed here which is good, since she does not speak English and we don’t understand much Greek! We have a lovely dinner at another seaside taverna before being delivered back to our hotel around midnight. Dinner in Greece doesn’t start until after 9:00pm and we usually don’t get finished until 11:00pm. At that time of night you still find families with children eating and playing in the adjacent playgrounds (or the taverna’s much to Stamatis chagrin). Stamatis tells us the children aren’t put to bed until midnight (the one drawback we see to siestas). With the veranda doors open and a cool breeze off the sea we have no trouble falling fast asleep anticipating our tour of Kymi and the surrounding villages in the morning.

I try to see sunrise which Stamatis has told us is spectacular from our veranda but although I awake early enough, 5:30am, I can’t stay awake and reopen my eyes at 8:00.

Pete and I head out for a walk and start by going up the road beside our hotel. It is VERY steep and after a short while we turn back to walk along the seaside. Now I must tell you we almost weren’t allowed to leave the hotel by the clerk who was insisting that we have some breakfast. He finally relented when we promised to eat when we returned form our walk. There’s one thing the Greek’s love to do – feed you – and are offended if you don’t eat everything!

Stamatis picks us up for touring and sightseeing of Kymi and the surrounding areas. I’m happily ensconced in the back seat where the views of the hairpin turns and shear drops off the cliff are not quite as breath taking. I must admit once we reach the top of the mountain the view to the Aegean sea below was worth gripping the seat with my butt cheeks all the way up.

Our sightseeing and touring include views of the village where his mother grew up and a beautiful chapel where his father and sister are buried in a peaceful tree lined courtyard out back.

Another stop includes a visit to a spring that is purported to have healing properties one of which is ridding oneself of kidney stones. Herbie, as he was known then, remembers this spot as being quite beautiful, which I’m sure it was, but unfortunately the times have been rough here and there is graffiti along with a horrible smell from a stream running alongside. Stamatis assures me that the spring and the well are not connected so we fill and drink our glasses with the mineral rich spring waters and quickly retreat.

Another highlight of our visit in Kymi was to a monastery perched high up overlooking the Aegean sea below. It was absolutely beautiful, well maintained and restored. We arrived in time for evening vespers and sat in the courtyard
listening to the nuns singing the hymns acapella with birds joining in. We enjoyed the peace of this place and lingered here quietly for a short time even enjoying small treats which the nuns had placed on a table in the courtyard with pastries and sweets for visitors. See, even the nuns must feed you!

Later we stopped at Stamatis house to pick up his mother. The house they live in is over 120 years old. The architecture is beautiful and there is a lovely courtyard out back where we have café before heading out to dinner where we are to be met by one of Stamatis sisters, Ariathani or “Na Na” for short, who remembers “Herbie” quite fondly.

You must also drink lots of coffee and/or juice at all hours of the day as each meal is preceded by a visit to a café where you spend an hour or so talking and greeting neighbors as they pass by. Ariathani joins us and appears genuinely happy to see Herbie. She doesn’t speak or understand English but Stamatis is a good translator and we spend the evening reminiscing the Woodhead’s and Hondroyiannis time together in the beautiful village of Kymi.

On our last day in Kymi we will be having lunch at the house in upper Kymi which Nana will prepare for everyone. We are hoping to see Dimytrys who is the same age as Herbie and played together when they were boys. We stop at the square and have some Frappe’s while Stamatis takes care of some business in the bank. The square is full of people and conversations, laughter and playing children. This is one of the things that is strikingly different from America. People gather outdoors and are very social, unlike Americans who tend to only go from place to place and not create any sense of community.

When we arrive at the house the aromas from Nana’s cooking are heavenly! We dine on very tender veal with a delicious red sauce over rice, barbeque meatballs, salad, feta, vegetables and bread. Every time our plates start to empty, more is added. Herbie and Dimytrys spend some time reminiscing and sharing pictures with everyone over delicious Greek coffee which is lovingly prepared by Marika. It is finally time to start the drive back to Athens and we bid a fond farewell, waving goodbye to our “new” family in Kymi.

We promise to work on our Greek and come back next year. Marika turns to Stamatis and asks him, “should I stay around for another year?” He kisses her and laughs, saying, Of course Mama!” She reminds us of Woody with her wit and charm.

Arriving back at the Park Hotel we catch a few winks before heading out for our last dinner in Greece. We head back to the square where we had our first café and meal when we arrived. The rain is gently falling much as it was when we arrived. One other thing we haven’t mentioned is the dogs. They’re almost as numerous as the street vendors, hawkers and beggars. Most of them just lay quietly waiting for a morsel of food to fall close enough to eat without having to get up. We joke that we don’t believe they actually have legs because we never see them walking – just sleeping on the sidewalks. However there are two dogs at the café who are actually up and working the crowd very effectively with cocks of their head, perking up one ear and eliciting the biggest tug in your heart to throw them some food and/or take them home with you.

Our last night is polished off after midnight with macadamia nut brittle ice cream at Haagen Daas. The rain is falling as we crawl into bed around 1:00am holding our new very large bellies for our last night’s sleep in Greece.

Stamatis picks us up in the morning for the short drive to the airport where we enjoy breakfast and café while watching all the comings and goings squeezing our last bit of time together before parting at security. We will carry home in our hearts all the memories and the time we have spent together with Stamatis very dearly. He has been so wonderful it’s hard to express in words what it meant to us, dropping everything to escort us, feed us, act as tour guide, interpreter and friend as he put his life on hold to be with us. I wasn’t sure how comfortable it would be spending so much time with this man whom I’d never met and who Peter hadn’t seen or talked with in over 40 years, but he was so sweet and with a wry sense of humor that we both enjoy. We will miss him! Hopefully his book will do so well in Europe that it will be translated to English and we can then be his hosts when he comes to the US on promotional tours.

We say goodbye at security, once again sailing through check-ins and check points, boarding and taking off right on time. The Delta crew hands us our five course menus and we settle in for the 11 hour 17 minute flight back to Atlanta and then home to Lake Christopher.

Adio!

Kymi and Good Friends remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Sifnos was our last stop before returning to Piraeus and Athens… sigh.

The harbor where we anchored was very small and quaint. This was much more like the Greece I remembered and as they told us on the ship, the most Greek island of all we had visited. Thankfully also, there were no excursions or archeological sites to visit on Sifnos. I hate to say so, but by this point I was Ruined out! No, this was just a pleasant rest stop to ease our transition back to reality.

The first thing we did was buy a couple waffle cones of gelato. Gelato is one of those things we had not managed to try before this. It was very good. I had chocolate and Phyllis had Pistachio. This is the first time I can remember Pistachio actually tasting, like Pistachios. To stretch our legs and see something other than the small town, we strolled up the winding main road away from the village.

Did I say main road, I meant only road. It was a fairly narrow road and pretty much without shoulders. Anyway, after going a short ways, maybe a mile or so, Phyllis became nervous for some reason (possibly it was the trucks and cars hurtling by us so close you could feel the breeze), so we turned back to town. Following our walk we sat down in a litte taverna on the beach with some friends from the ship and sipped on Frappes while eating Teropita (cheese pie) and another interesting type of meat and cheese “pie”.

In case you are wondering, a Frappe is a cold whipped coffee with milk and sugar. Not a diet drink, and therefore pretty damn good. It is very popular all over Greece. After our snack we visited a few shops and watched a guy throw some pottery. He made it look very easy so I’ll probably make my own vases from now on..., just kidding! We took a few pictures of farms, the coastline, the beach and what we later learned was the remains of an old windmill.

My mind, which was completely run over with facts, feebly remembers that in ancient times at least, Sifnos was known for its gold and silver. During the time of Delos, for instance the gold used in temples there, etc. mostly came from Sifnos. Coincidence or not the water and sand on the beach now sparkle and glitter in the sunlight. Even the bottom of Phyllis’s feet had glitter on them after walking without shoes. Yes, even the sand is magical in Greece.

As I mentioned before, finally on our last day, Phyllis was lucky enough to catch a nude bather enjoying the sun and water out on the beach.

To see additional trip pictures check out the Photo Section.

Sizzling Sifnos remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On this entire trip, if I had only seen the terrace houses of Ephesus, I would have been awed beyond measure. The terrace houses are so named because they were build on the sides of hills by terracing the landscape. It is impossible to properly describe the emotion I felt as I walked through homes that were literally in use at least two thousand years ago. It gave me a entirely new appreciation for the level of civilization, accomplishment and sophistication this fragment of mankind had achieved by that time. For instance, would you believe central heat, hot water, running water, and indoor plumbing? I want to make it clear that these were the houses of obviously well off people. The square footage alone, of these homes, was impressive. The first home was approximately four thousand square feet of living space. The other was nearly as large. What makes the terrace houses of Ephesus so special is their extraordinary condition and level of preservation. The Turkish Government is doing a superb job of excavating, reassembling, and restoring these ancient domiciles. It would all be for not however, if it were not for the amazing scaffolding, roof canopies, and louvered wall systems that cover and surround the dig, protecting it from the elements. A German company has made this impressive protection, possible. They contributed and organized other mostly European sponsors, to pay for and provide this five million dollar weather shield. I say mostly European, because I did see there was a lone U.S. contributor, VA Tech. Other terrace houses, which were excavated prior to this shield, became completely eroded by the weather and were lost forever.

As I mentioned these houses were even centrally heated, and had hot water. The Ephesians accomplished this with a system of both clay and even metal pipes. The homes had marble and mosaic floors, and both marble and plaster walls. The walls were decorated with Frescos and faux marble finishes. I hope the pictures upload and somewhat portray what I have described.

As impressive, as this portion of the tour was it was only the first two hours of our excursion. Naturally, there was driving time and when we left Ephesus we ran a gauntlet of the small merchants in a market set up just outside the ruins. Lets, just say that the Turks take selling their wares very seriously. By comparison, we found the Greek merchants far less pushy. Once we were back on the bus we went to learn about rug making. I have to admit I never saw this one coming in spite of all the obvious signals, such as the tour guide referring several times to the dying art of Turkish rug weaving. When we entered the “Rug Museum” we were first led into a small room and shown how silk threads were removed from the cocoons. Following that, we were escorted in to a long narrow room. There were many rugs both hanging on the walls and rolled up standing on end against the walls. Near a low doorway there was a small loom was set up. A young woman in her late twenties to early thirties was demonstrating knotting and weaving techniques, etc.

She was amazingly fast. She had to slow way down just so we could see how she was doing it. Our new host answered questions from his audience and then the young woman left us. Now we were as shown seats along the wall and offered refreshments as our host began to explain the “knotting process and types of fibers used and how the quality each rug was decided.

Several more men appeared and rugs began to be unfurled on the floor before us. At this point for me at least the handwriting was on the wall. Under the pretext of explaining “double knotting”, knots per square inch, wool on wool, wool on cotton, cotton on cotton, and silk on silk, blends, etc., rug after arrggeeea rrgguug was displayed before us. Each time came the invitation to touch, feel, walk on, etc.. Oh yes, as I mentioned, just prior to our “instruction” they offered everyone a hospitality drink, which ranged from harmless apple tea to a 40 proof anisette like liqueur. Naturally, the rugs were magnificent, but it also became clear this education that was not going for the simple joy of learning. Long story short we now own a verry nizze 10’ x 7.5’ arrggeea rrgguug. It is to be delivered, to our door, in 6 to 8 weeks, and you are welcomed to drop in a see it. I believe we’ll be serving apple tea.

Just about everyone in our tour group became a proud owner of one variety of rug or another that afternoon. Based on this experience I suggested some changes to the cruise folks. First, I told them they should rename this tour to “The we’re going to show you some nice ruins right before we sell you a new arrggeea rrgguug”. Secondly, I suggested they throw in the tour as charging us for them really adds insult to injury!

Kusadasi, Turkey Home of Ephesus & Arrggeea Rguuggs remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Having set sail from Piraeus Saturday night. At 0730 Sunday morning, we dropped anchor off shore from Camliami, Turkey. This was a swimming and water sport stop that would last until noon; after that we would sail around the bend to Kusadasi. At about 9:00 AM we took a tender from the ship to a pier next to the beach. The plan was to do some snorkeling along a rocky portion of the coastline. Leaving the tender we made our way to a beach near the snorkeling area.

Tut ta da daaa… TOPLESS ALERT!

At exactly 0930 I had my first bare breasted woman sighting. At that point, I had to honestly reconsider my options. I mean snorkeling is fun, but I’ve been snorkeling dozens of times, bare breast gazing, never. Also, I discovered even though European women think nothing of sunbathing topless, for some inexplicable reason, they feel compelled to put their tops back on when they enter the water. If only it was otherwise one could still snorkel and enjoy the best of both worlds. Oh well, life is seldom that simple. So, where was I, oh yes, staring at a women’s bare breasts, very tanned and rising like twin peaks as she lay on her back on a beach chair. Per Phyllis, the breast’s owner had had some work done due to their unnatural perkiness. By this point, I had lost all interest in snorkeling. However, after a few minutes Phyllis scolded me saying that I could not just stand there staring. So, after pretending to adjust a beach chair for a minute or two, allowing me a few more surreptitious peeks and side glances, I begrudgingly entered the water to do some snorkeling.

As it turned out, snorkeling in Camlaimi was actually a bit frightening. Allow me to explain. You see the coastline was extremely rocky. I’m talking jagged boulders rocky. This is normally very good for snorkeling. Lots of plant and animal life like to grow on the rocks beneath the water making them an excellent habitat for fish etc.. Do to the clarity of the water this was absolutely the case here. The water was a bit choppy, but because it was so clear, it was easy to see from the surface that there was an abundance of sea life below. Though distorted by the small swells and I could make out the rocks, sea grass, fish, etc.. I could also make out many black growths on all of the rocks. I waded out into the water, through the rocks with flippers on (picture, a drunk duck). I did my best to hold back shrieks as I adjusted to the water temperature, which was cool to put it mildly. When I was in a place where I could put my face in the water I slipped on my mask and lowered my head into the water, allowing myself for the first time, to clearly see the underwater sea life. I was looking outward at first and saw a whole school of shiny silver minnows, swimming amongst the sea grass, as I turned toward shore I could see a fur like growth on the rocks and then I could see the black spots clearly. Attached to the furry rocks were THOUSANDS OF SEA URCHINS. I felt as though I was in a bizarre sci-fi horror movie. I was literally surrounded and to make it worst I had to go back though them to get out of the water.

Since, I’m not sure everyone knows what a sea urchin is, I’ll do my best to describe one. Picture a tennis ball sized creature clinging to the rocks beneath the water. Now picture it completely covered with hundreds of sharp, black, sewing needle size quills. Now understand that all the quills are barbed at their tip. The bottom line here is, if you are unlucky enough to touch or bump a Sea Urchin it does not just end with a prick, it hooks into your flesh and is very painful to remove.

Okay, hopefully, I have given you a clear picture of the Sea Urchin. Now imagine you are in the water, being pushed around by the waves, next to and just inches above rocks covered with hundreds of Sea Urchins! I’m not sure how, but I think I walked on water that day and with flippers on to boot. So, that was my brief snorkeling experience in Camliami. I know I can be a bit slow on the uptake, but even I recognized the benefit of topless beach peeping and wrath of Phyllis, over certain impalement and possible death by sea urchins.

P.S. Nude Beach alert! We’re in Sifnos as I write this. Apparently, the beach was clothing optional. Phyllis captured the action on film! Check out “Sizzling Sifnos”.

Getting the Point in Camliami, Turkey remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday we successfully navigated the Acropolis, its small museum, the Parthenon, other temples, both amphitheaters (one Greek and one Roman), the national archeological museum, the Ancient Greek Agora and the Roman Agora. We also saw the Temple of Zeus from across a very busy street in central Athens. Think Clark Griswald for this one as he took in the majesty of the Grand Canyon in National Lampoon’s Family Vacation. By this time we were both completely worn out having been on our feet and constantly standing, walking and or climbing for hours every day. I for one had seen more broken stuff than I could possible comprehend. It’s kind of like when you go to one of those giant outdoor flea markets and you see parts and pieces to things you think you recognize but are never really sure. Seriously, it was incredible, but still exhausting.

Confidentially, on Friday things did begin to unravel just a bit. Everything went fine until we left the museum (after only 4 hours and 30 minutes). Phyllis and I found we could not exactly agree on how to get from where we were to where we wanted to be next, the Plaka. In our wanderings we ended up on the opposite side of the Acropolis and far from where we wanted to be. This literally involved miles of walking up and down narrow streets, back alleys and god knows where. This also involved numerous shopping side trips, with Phyllis trying on stuff, etc., while I stood by staring blankly at walls. I don’t know about Phyllis but after a while the sighing, complaining, whining, bitching and sarcasm was really getting on my nerves. Anyway, I finally stopped, and ever though we were still lost, that singular action seemed to have a dramatic effect on the mood.

Unfortunately yet another situation interrupted our ruins regalia. Phyllis developed a stomachache about 6:00 PM. Her stomach began cramping intensely across the top of her abs. Not that there is necessarily any connection, but earlier we had stopped at a rather touristy taverna in the Plaka to eat something we were promised, was Terropita. Now Terropita is a baked, approximately 6” round cheese pie made with filo pastry dough and feta cheese. What we were proudly served, was exclaimed to be homemade, the same as Terropita and one of their most sought after delicacies. What thye were was several small triangular, very flat filo and feta paddies which had been deep-fried in olive oil. Now I love olive oil, I love filo and I love feta, hell, I really liked this greasy Filo Feta thingy, but what ever it was, it was not Terropita. The oil literally squirted out of each paddy when we cut into them with our forks. Phyllis didn’t even finish hers (so I did). Besides the fried cheese thingies, we also had a poor rendition of a Greek salad, and we chased it all with some bread and water. Phyllis became certain that this much sought after, homemade, delicacy was in some way the root of her problem. At the time, I’m wondering how I could have eaten exactly same thing, actually more and felt right as rain. Trying to set aside personal suspicions as to how much she really wanted to complete our rampage of the Ruins, I set myself to the task of tying to feel empathy and indulge her theory. At this point, I really wanted to make our way to the Temple of Zeus, it was the last thing on our list, and we already had tickets. It became clear that Phyllis’s condition was going to prevent this. So I arranged a stop for rest at a café, but the symptoms only lessened and returned completely as soon as we got up to leave. As I pondered this situation, angel Pete and devil Pete were hard a work. Angel Pete finally won out convincing me that if things were reversed Phyllis would consider my discomfort and cut things short, besides I knew we were going to be spending a lot of time together. So I accepted this was the right thing to do, even though I had spent all that time shopping and being lost because of her; time that could have been spent seeing the Temple of Zeus for example. I mean since it won’t happen anyway I’ll tell you I had a great gag picture planned of me looking like I had just knocked over one of the pillars. It would have been hilarious. Anyway, like I said, we cut our sight seeing short and returned to the hotel. While in no way do I confuse my actions with genuine compassion, it did, basically, accomplish the same results, so I’m taking the credit. Phyllis had fully recovered without further incident by the next morning. As she is fond of saying, “it’s progress not perfection, baby”. A motto I try to live by. At least when it suits me.

P.S.
The next day was Saturday. We visited the Roman and Greek Agora and of course did some more shopping. That afternoon, we made our way by taxi to Piraeus. Signed in and boarded our stately vessel the Star Flyer.

Of Museums, Ruins and Other Broken Stuff remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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As I write this blog I hear what sounds like croaking frogs outside my cabin. Now I know this is not possible as we are currently sailing under an almost full moon in the middle of the Aegean sea on our way to Mykonos and Delos. Then I remember escaping this evening’s “entertainment” in the Tropical Bar, which just happens to be called “Frog Racing”. No they’re not real frogs but these flat wooden discs cut out in the shape of a frog, painted green and strung on a string. The sound I hear I am sure is the slapping of these things on the teak deck, which are just now reaching a crescendo. I had to bow out as in order to make the frogs move you have to be in a squatting position which is now impossible having spent the last two days hiking up on the islands of Samos and Patmos to look at, you guessed it, ruins, but wait, there’s more, tunnels, caves, and monasteries too! Actually, the last three days have been incredible with beautiful vistas, quaint seaside villages, and friendly villagers too. Today on the island of Patmos after a very strenuous hike up a steep cobblestone path to the Monastery of St. John, we found a treasure of a restaurant at the foot of the monastery called “Jimmy’s Balcony”. There we had the best Greek food of our trip with an incredible view of our ship, anchored way below in a majestic blue harbor. On the way out we complimented the cooks in our now practiced Greek, “poli kala” (which means very good) and the main chef turned and greeted us in unbroken, clear English and said he was from America too! After our hike back down to the harbor we snorkeled off a beach in crystal clear waters, napped among the topless sunbathers and bid a sad farewell to one of the most pleasant ports we’ve encountered so far. Tomorrow in Delos, in the AM, I’m hoping to view some magnificent Phallus statues which I’ll be sure to document with photos. I’ll post them on the blog for those who care to see. After that, we head into Mykonos late in the day, to party the night away with the beautiful people. We probably won’t get back to an internet connection for a couple of days so as the Greeks would say…….Adio!
P.S. Pete’s team won the frog race! Something else for the resume.

Of Frogs and Blogs remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Okay, as of Friday May 25th Stamatis had left for Kimi and we were completely on our own for the first time since we had arrived in Greece. Dhen Perazee (No problem), thanks to listening to a Greek language CD practically everyday for the last two months I had learned quite a few words. I didn’t have any idea on how to string them together exactly, but I could say a few phrases such as Eeme Hasee (I’m lost), Polee Akreevo (to expensive), simbo lenvonodae tatehera (is the tip included), Pooeene Toiletes (where is the toilet). Surprisingly that last came in the handiest. An important travel tip: Getting to a bathroom quickly is very important when you consume lots of olive oil and beverages. On that topic, I must comment on the Greek public bathrooms. When I left Greece in 1963 a public restroom, especially in a taverna or restaurant generally consisted of a lean-to attachment. It was a foul smelling afterthought, without running water and unlit, it consisted of four walls and a floor, usually concrete, with a hole in it. Toilet paper? And that was the ladies room. The men just went out back in the alley. Let’s just say that in 44 years there have been considerable improvements and from a standpoint of condition and cleanliness the public facilities in the states could learn a thing or two from the Greeks. With modern plumbing and self activating lighting my public bathroom experiences were hygienic, pleasant and even attractive.
My last topic is actually a pretty good segue to my next topic, male genitalia as it relates to ancient Greek statuary. Ladies this is for men only so read no further. If the phrase “To much information” means anything to you then go on to the next segment.

Okay guys hopefully we’re alone. The last few days after having wandered past hundreds of recovered artifacts and in particular the amazingly life like marble and bronze statues, it hit me like lightening that those ancient Greek statue makers were more than just gifted artisans. Those guys new the value of misleading advertising and somehow worked it into a conspiracy lasting centuries and possibly millennia. I’ve never seen this in print before so up until now I can only assume it’s been lost to antiquity or such a closely guarded secret that it’s been completely withheld. I’ve even debated over my right to reveal it. I mean when it hit me I was dumbfounded by the simple genius of what these guys perpetrated for hundreds and maybe even thousands of years. Look, I’m sorry to drag this out and I promise I’m working toward a point. First, allow me to lay some factual groundwork. I believe to do so will lend credence and give my discovery the relevance it deserves.
Fact: Obviously, the Greek god’s and goddess’s statues were made for the adulations of the populace.
Fact: They were part of the majority’s belief system and had a places of honor in all of the temples and customary places of worship.
Fact: The statues of the goddesses portrayed them with rare beauty and usually completely clothed; however, the statues of the gods although handsome and muscular were usually completely naked.
Fact: While the gods held a sword, Trident, shield, etc. none of these items offered much in the way of privacy.
Fact: The goddesses typically were depicted much more modestly, usually with full-length robes and gowns except for occasionally exposing nicely shaped buttocks, and possibly a single nicely shaped, perky boob.
Fact: The male gods have everything hanging out. No modesty for these guys, I mean they were gods after all, with chiseled well defined muscular bodies god like in EVERY WAY right…?

Err, me no think so. I mean take a look. Just look at the pictures and I promise this is a fair representation of what I saw every day and everywhere. These god statues will make even the most insecure of us feel better. These totally built, Adonis like, bodies all have the pee-pee of a three year old. So finally, I can get to my point. Who made the statues, men right? Ah, but who is looking at the statues, everybody and especially the women, get it! Okay, if you are still a little lost don’t worry. Just review the pictures and here’s the whole enchilada.

The way I see it ancient guys didn’t catch a lot of breaks I mean most of them did not have status, i.e. nobility, wealthy, high government positions. So that meant they were slaves, surfs, soldiers, tradesman or minor bureaucrats. In other words, they were hard working and trying to make ends meet. They were probably not even that well fed so the physique while not over weight was probably not Herculean either. Maybe from the ladies’ point of view not a terrific prospect. But, there also wasn’t mass media with the exception of statues. No printing press, no photography, no movies, no TV! That means no well photographed and publicized celebrities e.g. The Chippendales, male porn stars, etc.. Women saw statues of gods, and those nice muscular gods, had really small wieners. Now even though the guy they were married to smelled like fish, manure, broke rocks, drug rocks chipped rocks or wrote on papyrus scrolls, day in and day out he still had something going for him that even Zeus couldn’t boast. A pretty good sized (by comparison) shlong. And that’s why in spite of plague, poverty and mass un-enlightenment men named it the golden age!

On Potties and Pee Pee's remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Sailing, Sailing Over the Ocean Main remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Today being Thursday meant that Stamatis could not drive through the city since in Athens the number on your license plate regulates which days you can drive in the city center. Actually, it worked out well because we had a very pretty drive around the city to Glyfada. When we got to Glyfada we took the King George Highway which is the road that ran in front of the Hotel Rial. He had not been back to look for it since he had stopped working there shortly after that. Since that time the two lane road had been widened and there were tall Eucalyptus trees in the median separating the outgoing and incoming lanes. We were on the outgoing side (heading away from Athens) and the hotel would be on the incoming side. Stamatis sensing he was close, needed to get to the other side. The problem appeared to be the “No U-turn” signs, but I’ve learned in Greece those are merely suggestions. We made the U-turn and went half a block, even after 44 years, I immediately recognized the hotel. Interestingly although it is still the Rial, it now serves a new purpose, Home for the Elderly. No wise cracks!

After experiencing our moment we visited a shopping plaza and where Stamatis treated us to café and then to a delicious lunch, of meatballs, fried potatoes and Greek salad, at the famous George’s Steak House.
I ate in this same restaurant, as boy the only difference was that it is much bigger and nicer now.

Following lunch Stamatis drove us back to our hotel. He was going on to Kimi. Phyllis and I walked up to a local mini mart and picked up a liter bottle of Coke Light and Liter bottle of Mineral water. We returned to hotel to chill, eat snacks and watch a movie. Tomorrow we intend to hit a museum or two and shop for the grand kids.

We Visit Glyfada, The Scene of the Crime remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Disaster averted Phyllis and I had our coffee and tea, dressed and went for a 45-minute walk run through the neighborhood around the hotel. Upon returning I tried unsuccessfully to upload the blog update I’d written last night and some of the pictures we had taken our first day before. As I’ve yet to explain, the hotel’s wireless internet access has decidedly put the emphasis on “less”. All of you that know me well know that I’m not brimming with patience, but in this case I have had to yield to my situation. So, this morning I was still unsuccessful, but later this afternoon I did get some pictures to upload and I almost got Phyllis’s update from yesterday loaded. Maybe tomorrow I can find an internet café or something.

Athens Aviods a Near Miss remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Later the real storms did come forcing us to dash for any cover we could find sharing the shelter of doorways and awnings among swaggering beer swilling, Liverpool fans who were speaking completely incoherent English and uttering strings of obscenities such as a sailor’s daughter has never heard before. Apparently in Liverpool all sentences both begin and end with F**k or F**ken. Determined to reach the Acropolis we forged ahead crossing against rain gorged gutter rapids and the rapidly moving pedestrian and motorized traffic, all of which seemed to flow incessantly. The later ignoring all signals and attempts by the police to control or direct them. Atop the Acropolis the sun finally broke through and sanity seemed to reign as even the sulliest of fans stood in awe of the Parthenon, the Temples, and the incredible views of the surrounding city.

After hours of hiking, climbing, and gawking we finally found respite at a café where we dined on Moussaka and lamb. Struggling to find our legs we once again headed back to the city stopping along the way for Haagen Das to fortify us as we dove into the belly of the beast (aka the metro) as the football fans were all trying to get through the same area enroute to the stadium.

Thankfully, once we maneuvered the throngs at the metro station we headed off in the opposite direction of the cheering, beer swilling crowds to our peaceful hotel and blissful sleep.
By Phyllis

Awash in History and Heineken remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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At 4:45 PM last evening, we took off from the Atlanta airport aboard the Delta jumbo jet. I must tell you, Business Class, which is actually 1st class when you are on a transatlantic flight, is quite the bomb. We enjoyed wonderful spacious seats, gourmet style meals and quite a lot of attention from the well-trained attendants. Our seats reclined almost fully and the leg supports came up so they were nearly bed like (pretty nice on a 10 hour flight). We each had our own TV monitor allowing us to view current on demand movies, documentaries, and TV shows. We could also listen to a variety of music or even play some video games. On another Monitor on the cabin bulkhead displayed a constant update showing our planes location altitude, distance, ground speed, etc. I really cannot say enough about how terrific our experience was. Oh yeah, poor Phyllis lost the last 7 hours of her birthday. At 5:05 PM, the pilot advised us all to reset our watches for Athens time, 12:05 AM, May 22.

At 10:30 AM, we arrived about 15 minutes early to the gate in the Athens Airport. By about 11:15 AM we had passed through customs, immigration and picked up our bags. As we walked out of the containment area, my old friend Stamatis immediately greeted us. We followed up with warm hugs and introductions. Helping us with our bags, Stamatis took us to his car and carried us to the hotel he had arranged for us, Park Hotel.

We checked in, carried our bags to our room, and hurried off to a nearby square Eeyeea Paraskavie (Saint Paraskavie, we’ll worry about spelling later). There we had had some delicious fruit smoothies and lunch. We spent about three hours chatting and catching up. About 3:00 PM Stamatis dropped us off at the hotel and we each caught a catnap. At 7:30 PM Stamatis picked us back up and we headed down town to central Athens and an area called Plaka. To get there we took the new Metro, which is excellent. Tomorrow Athens is the host for a big football (soccer) championship between Liverpool England and Italy. We walked through a huge crowd of Liverpool fans who were well into the party mood. We managed to make it through there just before they began pouring beer on each other. During our walk through this very charming area we could see wonderful glimpses of the Acropolis high above us. Since they do a very good job of lighting it I attempted a picture or two. About 9:45 PM, we sat down at taverna Stamatis recommended and had a very nice dinner. Dinner was very pleasant in spite of about eight thoroughly drunk and obnoxious Liverpool fans sitting next to us for about the first 45 minutes. After dinner we made our way back to the square we visited for lunch and had some delicious deserts. For the next part it’s important to mention that we dined outside at each of these places, because at 12:00 AM they turned out the lights and closed. About 10 Minutes later our waiter brought us some water and collected for the deserts. It was time to get some sleep. Back at the Plaka I can assure you the night life was in full swing. Greeks and apparently obnoxious Liverpool football fans love to party! Well that’s about it got to catch some shut-eye.

Mission Control The Woodheads Have Landed remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Well it is finally Monday morning. It's Phyllis's birthday and in about three hours we leave for Greece. Until then Adio

Renewing Old Friendships remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On Monday morning, May 21 we will leave the Norfolk Airport about 10:30 AM and fly to Atlanta. In Atlanta, we will get on the big boy and fly business class straight through to Athens, Greece. We arrive in Athens about 10:00 AM Tuesday May 22. We will be in Athens until Saturday when we go to the port of Piraeus and board the clipper ship Star Flyer for our cruise through the Northern Cyclades. A picture of the twin sail ships Star Clipper and Star Flyer is below.

On our first leg we sail directly from Piraeus east to Kusadasi, Turkey. From Kusadasi we sail back for a leisurely cruise to Piraeus stopping at several Greek islands and towns/villages on the way. If I am successful, you should be able to access a map and see our travel route and stops. The plan is that as we go Phyllis or I will also upload pictures and details of our adventures and fun.

Two Days to G-Day remains copyright of the author PeteW, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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