I know the blogging has been skipping around a bit now -- but that's because I'm a bit behind and there is a lot to write about. On Thursday, we landed in Bodrum, Turkey (I've already written about the afternoon).
It was strange taking the tender in -- generally when we go to a new country it's via plane (or even train back when I backpacked through Europe in college). Coming into a resort port on the tender made it still feel like the Greek Islands.
The port facilities are a bit of a walk from the main part of the town. Our one certain destination was the Castle of St. Peter. It was also one of just two watersport days on the ship (the first was back when we were on Milos), and we had promised the girls we'd let them do that for part of the day.
The Castle is all the way on the other side of the harbor, but it is well worth the walk. The streets took us first along harbors and the beach, and then through a shopping area (most stores were just opening).
We had no idea just how interesting and big the castle would be. The castle was built by the Order of the Knights of St. John (our friends from Rhodes too) back in the 1400s. We were able to go into the different towers, walk the walls of the castle, and go into various buildings in the castle. The views were incredible. At one point, Maddy said something that would warm the heart of any parent of a teenager. Unprompted as we were walking along the fortress walls, she exclaimed aloud "this is cool." Teenager seal of approval.
Although we could have used Graeme Jones or his equivalent, we still got a decent sense from some of the few displays. On the tender back to the boat, everyone who had been to the castle was raving about it.
One amusing aspect of the castle was that there were red arrows for the long tour, and green arrows for taking the short tour. Except that the arrows were so far apart that everything was totally random and there was no hope of consistently following one or the other option. We saw both types of arrows on our self-made tour, and they were generally pointing at us.
Because the girls (especially Torie) were eager to get back to the boat for the watersports, we skipped going to see the Mausoleum (one of the seven wonders of the Ancient World), and the 2400 year old theater. Instead, to keep our word, we headed back toward the boat. The streets were more alive at that point, although the shopkeepers were much less pushy than in Rhodes.
We stopped for lunch along the water at Blanca Restaurant on Cumhuriyet Cad (Cad is Turkish for street). Carol and I shared a two person meal of lamb, gravy, mushrooms, peas, and corn cooked inside an amphora. They brought the amphora to the table, with a fire still burning below it. Then, they broke open the amphora (makes it hard to reuse!) and served the dish. It was the tastiest local dish we'd so far.
Once we got back to the boat, Maddy, Torie and I headed down for a quick swim off the lowered back deck. The watersports guy then fired up the speedboat and took the girls tubing. It was a lot of fun for them as the water was rough and they got going quite fast, with huge bounces in the air. (I rode along in the boat, bouncing along.)
Julia had come down at some point, so we got her on the boat as well. At one point when Torie was riding bounced six feet above the water before slamming her down. Another time, Maddy got almost as high. Julia did not find the tubing as much as the other two.
I intrepidly took a ride, although I didn't last as long as the girls did. I actually took the last tubing ride of the day, as the waves were getting quite choppy as the wind picked up. Mark, the watersports guy from Australia, shut down the tubing. We headed back and went for a brief swim, but the current had grown so strong it was deemed unsafe. Poor Carol was all set for a swim, but when she saw how strong the current was, she wisely changed her mind.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
How to See Istanbul In a Few Hours
I'm in the hotel room now, the morning after our first day in Istanbul. The hotel has free wireless -- which allows me to compose directly on the blog instead of the painstaking process of writing on WordPerfect, emailing it to myself, copying on my blackberry, pasting in on bberry, then going back on to the laptop and editing for paragraphs. Phew.
It also allows me to upload photos -- so I'm trying to catch up. We'll see what Barcelona brings in terms of Internet. Almost as importantly, it allows me to go to ESPN and see that the Red Sox lost, the Nationals won, and the Yanks are clinging to the lead in Seattle in hopes of being up by 7.5 games. Also, apparently some guy named Tiger has a two shot lead in the PGA. Rumor has it he does well when leading on Sunday of a major championship.
Anyhow, we disembarked the ship (when you get on, do you "embark the ship?") in Istanbul, and were meet by our guide for the half day. Our travel agent (who is Turkish) suggested it was a good introduction to the major sights of the city, and that way we also had a way to carry our bags (not something we had to fuss with whilst on the ship) without trouble.
Our guide met us within a few minutes of our arrival. Unlike Athens, we didn't have a 48 person bus for five people. Instead, we had a 27 person bus. Overkill seems to be the watchword of the trip for these transfers. Including the driver and the guide, there were seven of us. Plenty of open seats.
Anyhow, our guide took us first to the Hippodrome. Although the area had been sacked multiple times (Crusaders, the British), there is still the impressive Obelisk of Theodosius. The obelisk is 3,500 years old, and still as beautiful and shiny as when it was created in Egypt. Theodosius brought it to Constantinople (which is now Istanbul) in 390 AD. We also saw the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain, the Snake Column, and the Rough Stone Obelisk.
The three heads of the Snake Column are all gone -- one is in a Museum, one is in the British Museum, and one is gone. The family joke now is that anytime something is missing, it is definitely in the British Museum.
Next, we went to the Blue Mosque. It's the first Mosque any of us had ever been in. Built in the 1600s, it was supposed to rival the Aya Sofya in grandeur and beauty (according to the guidebook). The Mosque is still in use, so the inside is still well decorated.
We had to take off our shoes to enter, and all of us had even broken down and wore either full-length khakis (me) or capri pants for the day. Carol and the girls did not have to wear headscarfs, although Julia's sleeves were too short so they loaned her a blue wrap to put around her shoulders.
The bad news with our guide is that her English was heavily accented, so sometimes it was hard to understand what she was saying. The good news is that her style was to explain what we were seeing for a while, and then to give us time to wander around, look, and take pictures. "First lecture, then picture" she joked.
No matter how you feel about Islam (more in a moment), the Mosque is beautiful -- beautiful tiles, stained glass windows, and the domes. There are six minarets (most of any in Istanbul, and two to five more than typical). Our guide gave us details of why mosques are built certain ways, as well as describing the prayer service. The prayer area is off limits to tourists (which is fine), but only a small railing separates us from that area. The women, of course, have to stay in the back area, far away from where the men are.
(It's the opposite of many churches in America, where the women come to church and many of the menfolk stay home.)
The challenge Islam presents (putting aside the theological aspects, which I'm NOT going to get into here) is its second class treatment of women. Not being allowed to prayer with the men, having -- in most countries -- to wear headscarfs and even cover their faces. Not being allowed to drive. Maybe that's not Islam but a perverted version of it, but this is the 21st Century. Christianity has had plenty of mistakes in the past -- and even now, but the worst problems are in the past.
Anyhow, after the Blue Mosque we crossed the street to the Aya Sofia, which is huge. Built in the 6th Century, it was a church for 900 years. Once Constantinople was conquered by Mehmet, he covered it into a mosque in 1453. In 1934, Ataturk changed its status to that of a museum.
There is ongoing restoration work -- which means scaffolding blocks half of the dome, but it is still an impressive building. Much of the main floor is still laid out as a Mosque, but the restoration work is uncovering the Christian mosaics. The size of the free standing dome is still amazing (even with the scaffolding blocking part of the view). Our guide toured us around the main floor. Given her accent and the number of people, she was hard to understand, but we still got the gist of it.
(By the way, unlike Greece, entrance fees in Turkey are quite steep. It cost us approximately $70 bucks for the five of us to go in, and kids aren't free unless they are under 12. It cost the same amount for Topkapi Palace, so what we gained in Greece, Turkey took away.)
She then gave us time to head upstairs via a stone ramp and see the mosaics. It also gave grand views of the main floor. Back downstairs, Torie and Maddy tried their hand (literally) at the weeping column. People place their thumb into the hole of the column, and try and spin their hand all the way around. Legend has it yor wish comes true if you are successful at it. Neither girl was successful, although we saw some Japanese tourists do it. (Apparently, it is a major attraction among Japanese tour groups.
We still had plenty of time on the half day tour after covering all three places, so we asked the guide to take us to Topkapi Palace. First, however, she insisted on taking us to a carpet store despite our protestations to the contrary. Clearly she wanted her shot at the commission she receives.
The owner of the store is a graduate of Ohio University, and his mother and brothers now live in Harrisonburg, VA, so he gets to the States quite often and speaks English with no accent. We politely watched as he had various carpets brought out. The coolest part is how they flip the rugs and the colors change because of the process. Beyond that, we weren't interested in buying, and the prices were higher than near Ephesus (more on that when I get around to writing that post tomorrow).
I noted that we appreciated his time and hospitality (green tea, water, and mineral water were served, I turned down the Turkish coffee). As we wound our way through the streets, we realized that another positive of having a guide is that we were not accosted by the shop owners -- they saw her guide ID, realized she had a deal with a store, and left us alone.
(Oh yes, in the Hippodrome, some guy started talking aggressively to us -- thinking the blonde young guide might be my fourth daughter. She shut him down immediately in Turkish, and he scurried off.)
Topkapi Palace is said to be the largest palace in Europe. Perched on the bluffs of Istanbul overlooking the Bosphorous and the Golden Horn, the place is huge, starting with the outer courtyard. It is where 25 sultans lived, and at its height it had a complement of family, staff, and hangers on of 2,000 people.
Unfortunately, parts are undergoing restoration, so the famous harem is closed right now to the public. We still wandered through the open exhibits, as well as many of the rooms. I won't go into all we say and did here -- there was almost too much to recount.
We did see the Imperial Treasury, the display of kaftans, the Kaskci Diamond, and the display of Holy Relics. The most interesting rooms, however, are the ones furthest in -- with cool breezes off the water, huge fountains, and beautiful views.
We then headed back to the bus, and made our way through Istanbul to our hotel, which is perched along the Bosphorous.
It also allows me to upload photos -- so I'm trying to catch up. We'll see what Barcelona brings in terms of Internet. Almost as importantly, it allows me to go to ESPN and see that the Red Sox lost, the Nationals won, and the Yanks are clinging to the lead in Seattle in hopes of being up by 7.5 games. Also, apparently some guy named Tiger has a two shot lead in the PGA. Rumor has it he does well when leading on Sunday of a major championship.
Anyhow, we disembarked the ship (when you get on, do you "embark the ship?") in Istanbul, and were meet by our guide for the half day. Our travel agent (who is Turkish) suggested it was a good introduction to the major sights of the city, and that way we also had a way to carry our bags (not something we had to fuss with whilst on the ship) without trouble.
Our guide met us within a few minutes of our arrival. Unlike Athens, we didn't have a 48 person bus for five people. Instead, we had a 27 person bus. Overkill seems to be the watchword of the trip for these transfers. Including the driver and the guide, there were seven of us. Plenty of open seats.
Anyhow, our guide took us first to the Hippodrome. Although the area had been sacked multiple times (Crusaders, the British), there is still the impressive Obelisk of Theodosius. The obelisk is 3,500 years old, and still as beautiful and shiny as when it was created in Egypt. Theodosius brought it to Constantinople (which is now Istanbul) in 390 AD. We also saw the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain, the Snake Column, and the Rough Stone Obelisk.
The three heads of the Snake Column are all gone -- one is in a Museum, one is in the British Museum, and one is gone. The family joke now is that anytime something is missing, it is definitely in the British Museum.
Next, we went to the Blue Mosque. It's the first Mosque any of us had ever been in. Built in the 1600s, it was supposed to rival the Aya Sofya in grandeur and beauty (according to the guidebook). The Mosque is still in use, so the inside is still well decorated.
We had to take off our shoes to enter, and all of us had even broken down and wore either full-length khakis (me) or capri pants for the day. Carol and the girls did not have to wear headscarfs, although Julia's sleeves were too short so they loaned her a blue wrap to put around her shoulders.
The bad news with our guide is that her English was heavily accented, so sometimes it was hard to understand what she was saying. The good news is that her style was to explain what we were seeing for a while, and then to give us time to wander around, look, and take pictures. "First lecture, then picture" she joked.
No matter how you feel about Islam (more in a moment), the Mosque is beautiful -- beautiful tiles, stained glass windows, and the domes. There are six minarets (most of any in Istanbul, and two to five more than typical). Our guide gave us details of why mosques are built certain ways, as well as describing the prayer service. The prayer area is off limits to tourists (which is fine), but only a small railing separates us from that area. The women, of course, have to stay in the back area, far away from where the men are.
(It's the opposite of many churches in America, where the women come to church and many of the menfolk stay home.)
The challenge Islam presents (putting aside the theological aspects, which I'm NOT going to get into here) is its second class treatment of women. Not being allowed to prayer with the men, having -- in most countries -- to wear headscarfs and even cover their faces. Not being allowed to drive. Maybe that's not Islam but a perverted version of it, but this is the 21st Century. Christianity has had plenty of mistakes in the past -- and even now, but the worst problems are in the past.
Anyhow, after the Blue Mosque we crossed the street to the Aya Sofia, which is huge. Built in the 6th Century, it was a church for 900 years. Once Constantinople was conquered by Mehmet, he covered it into a mosque in 1453. In 1934, Ataturk changed its status to that of a museum.
There is ongoing restoration work -- which means scaffolding blocks half of the dome, but it is still an impressive building. Much of the main floor is still laid out as a Mosque, but the restoration work is uncovering the Christian mosaics. The size of the free standing dome is still amazing (even with the scaffolding blocking part of the view). Our guide toured us around the main floor. Given her accent and the number of people, she was hard to understand, but we still got the gist of it.
(By the way, unlike Greece, entrance fees in Turkey are quite steep. It cost us approximately $70 bucks for the five of us to go in, and kids aren't free unless they are under 12. It cost the same amount for Topkapi Palace, so what we gained in Greece, Turkey took away.)
She then gave us time to head upstairs via a stone ramp and see the mosaics. It also gave grand views of the main floor. Back downstairs, Torie and Maddy tried their hand (literally) at the weeping column. People place their thumb into the hole of the column, and try and spin their hand all the way around. Legend has it yor wish comes true if you are successful at it. Neither girl was successful, although we saw some Japanese tourists do it. (Apparently, it is a major attraction among Japanese tour groups.
We still had plenty of time on the half day tour after covering all three places, so we asked the guide to take us to Topkapi Palace. First, however, she insisted on taking us to a carpet store despite our protestations to the contrary. Clearly she wanted her shot at the commission she receives.
The owner of the store is a graduate of Ohio University, and his mother and brothers now live in Harrisonburg, VA, so he gets to the States quite often and speaks English with no accent. We politely watched as he had various carpets brought out. The coolest part is how they flip the rugs and the colors change because of the process. Beyond that, we weren't interested in buying, and the prices were higher than near Ephesus (more on that when I get around to writing that post tomorrow).
I noted that we appreciated his time and hospitality (green tea, water, and mineral water were served, I turned down the Turkish coffee). As we wound our way through the streets, we realized that another positive of having a guide is that we were not accosted by the shop owners -- they saw her guide ID, realized she had a deal with a store, and left us alone.
(Oh yes, in the Hippodrome, some guy started talking aggressively to us -- thinking the blonde young guide might be my fourth daughter. She shut him down immediately in Turkish, and he scurried off.)
Topkapi Palace is said to be the largest palace in Europe. Perched on the bluffs of Istanbul overlooking the Bosphorous and the Golden Horn, the place is huge, starting with the outer courtyard. It is where 25 sultans lived, and at its height it had a complement of family, staff, and hangers on of 2,000 people.
Unfortunately, parts are undergoing restoration, so the famous harem is closed right now to the public. We still wandered through the open exhibits, as well as many of the rooms. I won't go into all we say and did here -- there was almost too much to recount.
We did see the Imperial Treasury, the display of kaftans, the Kaskci Diamond, and the display of Holy Relics. The most interesting rooms, however, are the ones furthest in -- with cool breezes off the water, huge fountains, and beautiful views.
We then headed back to the bus, and made our way through Istanbul to our hotel, which is perched along the Bosphorous.
Thoughts On The Cruise
I had been dead set against taking a cruise for many years. This seemed like the right approach -- post-hopping in the Aegean Sea on a small ship that wasn't the typical large cruise ship. And, it turned out to be a good way to go.
The best aspects about it are:
The best aspects about it are:
- You don't spend much valuable time getting from one location to the next. Instead, we traveled generally at night. Taking ferries or another way to get there would have chewed up a lot of daylight.
- You don't have to pack and repack for a week. We unpacked in our staterooms when we got on the ship, and then just came and went from island to island/port to port as needed.
- We had friendly relationships with several of the crew members, which was nice.
The weaker aspects about the cruise are:
- There is no choice but to follow the ship's schedule. As noted, we left Santorini mid-afternoon for Rhodes, and we could have spent more time on the former island. There was a bit of a rushed feeling to Santorini.
- That also means there is no ability to be flexible. I would have taken another day on Rhodes, rented a car, and gone to Lindos and some of the other parts of the island.
- The meals are pretty much continental -- no much different than what we might eat at home.
All in all, I'm glad we did the cruise. A 142 person boat is the way to go for us. The stateroom was large enough. We had enough privacy on the day going from Kusadasi to Istanbul that we never felt closed in or crowded.
The largest cruise ship launches from Ft. Lauderdale this December -- 6,000 people, plus 2,200 crew. We won't be on that ship.
Friday, August 14, 2009
You don't have to be a Rhodes Scholar to work there. . .
After the wall around Rhodes Old Town (maybe Jim Moran could get stimulus money to build an old wall around Old Town Alexandria), we took a break for some water. Then we marched off down Sokratous Street, which is a cobblestone street with plenty of shops and a few restaurants. Maddy and I climbed up the Burgos clock tower (and had a good view of the Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent).
We caught up to the other three whilst they were shopping. We had lunch in a café on a side street in-between the Street of Knights and the Street of Greek Merchants Trying to Sell You Stuff. The food was so-so, but at least it was expensive. Thank God Europe has united, so that no country is inexpensive any more! (We first got the Euro shock in Ireland in 2003 – these heretofore affordable countries now cost too much!). I know there’s no such thing as a free lunch, but I wouldn’t mind an affordable one.
We then headed back to the ship, but detoured via Plateia Ippokratous – a central square in front of the Marine Gate that includes a famous medieval fountain. The square is lined with restaurants and tourists. Quite the scene – like Times Square, although the biggest danger had yet to rear it’s head (read further down).
The plan was to rent a car and head to a beach. And maybe Lindos. But it was getting toward mid-afternoon, so I hired a taxi and we squeezed in. (Note to Bonnie Orleans – Torie had to sit on Julia’s lap to fit, but we did not get a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt.)I always believe taxi in a foreign country is a fun way to get around. (I’m telling you, put a camera in the front of a taxi in Rome, live stream on the web, and it would be great Net TV!). I’m glad our cabbie was driving, because getting out of Rhodes wasn’t the easiest route to find. Our cabbie’s name is Angelos – I didn’t have to heart to tell him everyone in Baltimore is unhappy with his cousin’s ownership of the Orioles.
We went to Filaraki and hung on the beach from about 2:30 till 5:30, when he picked us up. It’s a very resorty beach, but more in the Ocean City, MD style than in the Outer Banks, NC style. We rented three lounge chairs and spent the afternoon swimming and sunning. Torie, of course, stayed in the water the entire time.
With several hours to kill before dinner, we gave the girls money so they could walk into Rhodes Old Town and get some ice cream. Carol and I walked in separately, just to get a drink. The restaurant and store hawkers were out in full force. I even had a guy yelling at me for not looking him in the eye when I said no thanks. So I turned around, held up my hand apologetically, and said, "no thanks." If he was looking for a fight, he was messing with the wrong guy (in that I’m a lover, not a fighter, so he wouldn’t have had one).
Anyhow, it had the feel of the scene in Airplane when Leslie Nielsen uses martial arts to fight off the Hare Krishnas, peace protestors, and others at the airport (I may have the scene slightly wrong, but if you’ve seen that classic, you know what I mean).
Eventually we sat down at the Square with the medieval fountain – and watched the world go by. There were two amazing parts to the time. The first was how competitive the side-by-side bars are for customers. At one point, I thought our "caller" (for lack of a better word) was about to get into a brawl with the next door caller over a couple. The callers take a guess as to nationality/language, and started aggressive conversations. Not sure if it works, but clearly they believe it does.
The other amazing aspect was when they finally brought our drinks (service is optional in Greece). I had ordered a large beer – it was a huge glass in the shape of a boot. It had to be the equivalent of 2-3 beers. We were sitting in the front row – and a tourist even asked to pose with the beer for a picture. Sure, why not.Afterwards, we made our way to the nearest gate so we could safely escape without too many callers trying to persuade us.
The girls reported the same experience – and found it the most annoying part of Greece.
(We’re now steaming into Istanbul – so I’m hopefully going to post this and go up and watch the sunrise over Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque.)
We caught up to the other three whilst they were shopping. We had lunch in a café on a side street in-between the Street of Knights and the Street of Greek Merchants Trying to Sell You Stuff. The food was so-so, but at least it was expensive. Thank God Europe has united, so that no country is inexpensive any more! (We first got the Euro shock in Ireland in 2003 – these heretofore affordable countries now cost too much!). I know there’s no such thing as a free lunch, but I wouldn’t mind an affordable one.
We then headed back to the ship, but detoured via Plateia Ippokratous – a central square in front of the Marine Gate that includes a famous medieval fountain. The square is lined with restaurants and tourists. Quite the scene – like Times Square, although the biggest danger had yet to rear it’s head (read further down).
The plan was to rent a car and head to a beach. And maybe Lindos. But it was getting toward mid-afternoon, so I hired a taxi and we squeezed in. (Note to Bonnie Orleans – Torie had to sit on Julia’s lap to fit, but we did not get a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt.)I always believe taxi in a foreign country is a fun way to get around. (I’m telling you, put a camera in the front of a taxi in Rome, live stream on the web, and it would be great Net TV!). I’m glad our cabbie was driving, because getting out of Rhodes wasn’t the easiest route to find. Our cabbie’s name is Angelos – I didn’t have to heart to tell him everyone in Baltimore is unhappy with his cousin’s ownership of the Orioles.
We went to Filaraki and hung on the beach from about 2:30 till 5:30, when he picked us up. It’s a very resorty beach, but more in the Ocean City, MD style than in the Outer Banks, NC style. We rented three lounge chairs and spent the afternoon swimming and sunning. Torie, of course, stayed in the water the entire time.
With several hours to kill before dinner, we gave the girls money so they could walk into Rhodes Old Town and get some ice cream. Carol and I walked in separately, just to get a drink. The restaurant and store hawkers were out in full force. I even had a guy yelling at me for not looking him in the eye when I said no thanks. So I turned around, held up my hand apologetically, and said, "no thanks." If he was looking for a fight, he was messing with the wrong guy (in that I’m a lover, not a fighter, so he wouldn’t have had one).
Anyhow, it had the feel of the scene in Airplane when Leslie Nielsen uses martial arts to fight off the Hare Krishnas, peace protestors, and others at the airport (I may have the scene slightly wrong, but if you’ve seen that classic, you know what I mean).
Eventually we sat down at the Square with the medieval fountain – and watched the world go by. There were two amazing parts to the time. The first was how competitive the side-by-side bars are for customers. At one point, I thought our "caller" (for lack of a better word) was about to get into a brawl with the next door caller over a couple. The callers take a guess as to nationality/language, and started aggressive conversations. Not sure if it works, but clearly they believe it does.
The other amazing aspect was when they finally brought our drinks (service is optional in Greece). I had ordered a large beer – it was a huge glass in the shape of a boot. It had to be the equivalent of 2-3 beers. We were sitting in the front row – and a tourist even asked to pose with the beer for a picture. Sure, why not.Afterwards, we made our way to the nearest gate so we could safely escape without too many callers trying to persuade us.
The girls reported the same experience – and found it the most annoying part of Greece.
(We’re now steaming into Istanbul – so I’m hopefully going to post this and go up and watch the sunrise over Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque.)
He's Not Ian, But He's Not Bad
After leaving the Palace of the Grand Masters, we headed up to walk on the City Walls (a family tradition – whenever possible, it’s great to walk along the fortress walls of an old city. York remains our favorite, primarily because it was the first. But there have been many since.)Torie had a muscle cramp going, so she opted to wait for us along the row of cannons near the entrance to the Grand Palace. Her loss.
We walked along the wall in the rising hot sun. I sensed that, between having split our family forces in two (leaving Torie behind), the rising heat, and the lack of provisions (i.e. water), it was going to be a short campaign along the walls – we wouldn’t make it all 2.5 miles around.So I picked a tower to walk to and turnaround at. We walked to the Tower of Spain, climbed up it (Carol declining, preferring not to risk the slick, narrow rocky steps). At the top, I was gently accosted by a British fellow who immediately engaged me in conversation. It was the most engaging conversation of the trip – so much so that Maddy and Julia crowded into to listen, and Carol changed her mind and came up the steps.
His name is Graeme Jones (he actually said, "you may have heard of my brother, Indiana") and he is retired from the British military. The history of Rhodes is his hobby – he spends three months at a time, then goes home to England for a month, before returning again to do further study and research..He first showed me painstakingly drawn maps he has done of the wall (the thickest city walls I’ve every seen). That was as interesting to me as my showing crosstabs to people who couldn’t care less. However, then he launched into a description of the walls, the moat, and the sieges of Rhodes. The stories he told were like silver and gold. It gave us a greater appreciation for the conflicts, how the battles were fought, the bravery of the knights, the leadership of Suleiman the Magnificent.
Graeme really made the history come alive. Carol and I kept asking questions (and Maddy and Julia hovered near by, soaking it in).
Finally we took our leave, having to go back to Torie after nearly an hour. He sold us a VERY readable pamphlet he had written entitled "A brief history of the Old Medieval City of Rhodes." The cost was only two Euros, which we were happy to pay in appreciation for his time and enthusiasm. So, if in Rhodes you get accosted by an Englishman who clearly is a frustrated tour guide/historian, spend some time with him. You’ll be the richer for it.(The Ian reference in this posting title will be clearer if you go back and read the Israel part of the blog -- March 2009.)
We walked along the wall in the rising hot sun. I sensed that, between having split our family forces in two (leaving Torie behind), the rising heat, and the lack of provisions (i.e. water), it was going to be a short campaign along the walls – we wouldn’t make it all 2.5 miles around.So I picked a tower to walk to and turnaround at. We walked to the Tower of Spain, climbed up it (Carol declining, preferring not to risk the slick, narrow rocky steps). At the top, I was gently accosted by a British fellow who immediately engaged me in conversation. It was the most engaging conversation of the trip – so much so that Maddy and Julia crowded into to listen, and Carol changed her mind and came up the steps.
His name is Graeme Jones (he actually said, "you may have heard of my brother, Indiana") and he is retired from the British military. The history of Rhodes is his hobby – he spends three months at a time, then goes home to England for a month, before returning again to do further study and research..He first showed me painstakingly drawn maps he has done of the wall (the thickest city walls I’ve every seen). That was as interesting to me as my showing crosstabs to people who couldn’t care less. However, then he launched into a description of the walls, the moat, and the sieges of Rhodes. The stories he told were like silver and gold. It gave us a greater appreciation for the conflicts, how the battles were fought, the bravery of the knights, the leadership of Suleiman the Magnificent.
Graeme really made the history come alive. Carol and I kept asking questions (and Maddy and Julia hovered near by, soaking it in).
Finally we took our leave, having to go back to Torie after nearly an hour. He sold us a VERY readable pamphlet he had written entitled "A brief history of the Old Medieval City of Rhodes." The cost was only two Euros, which we were happy to pay in appreciation for his time and enthusiasm. So, if in Rhodes you get accosted by an Englishman who clearly is a frustrated tour guide/historian, spend some time with him. You’ll be the richer for it.(The Ian reference in this posting title will be clearer if you go back and read the Israel part of the blog -- March 2009.)
". . .Like All Women. . ."
We are currently passing through the Dardanelles. We gone past the Narrows – some of the most historical happenings in the ancient world took place here. There are two stone forts on either side of the Dardanelles, as well as various monuments to World War I.
This was also the first day we had lunch on the ship – with Indonesian being the featured cuisine. It was quite good, and we’ve spent the day relaxing, reading, and writing. There’s certainly a lot to do in Istanbul.
Yesterday, we traveled for eleven hours from Bodrum to Kusadasi, only one hour of which was under sail. The ship covered 82 miles, with an average speed of 7.5 knots per hour. The head winds were tremendous.
Let’s go back to Tuesday. Rhodes is the last of the three Greek Isles we were visiting. It is also the largest of the three islands, and easily has to most to do and see. It is a very popular tourist spot. But, it also has some of the most historic and interesting backgrounds of any of the Greek Isles.
The main city/port on the island of Rhodes is helpfully called "Rhodes." We spent the morning exploring Rhodes Old Town. We live near Old Town Alexandria, VA. Old means something different in the New World than in Europe/Asia. People have been living in Rhodes Old Town for more than 2,400 years, so Old Town Alexandria has only 2,200 years or so to catch up.
The ship (the Windstar for those joining us late – one of the largest sailing vessels in the world, and one of the smallest cruise ships in the world!) was able to dock at the docks (is that the right expression?) – so no tender needed.
Old Town Rhodes is surrounded by the widest, sturdiest, most successful set of city walls in the Mediterranean Sea. We went through the Marine Gate, which stands approximately five stories tall (estimated by the author), and into a labyrinth of walkways and small streets with shops and restaurants. However, we made our way to the famous medieval Street of the Knights, which housed the knights of the different countries that belonged to the Order of St. John after they had been chased out of Jerusalem in 1291.
After living for a time on Cyprus, the Order bought the island from a pirate and then subdued the locals. The knights built the walls around the city (actually, slaves did the work but The Man always gets the credit).
Anyhow, we walked up the narrow cobblestoned street, and were able to go into the House of Spain. There was an art exhibit there, but we were more interested in the building. (I did read the description of the artists’ work – it was written by someone in the Ministry of Culture, and contained all the typical art buzzwords to either impress someone or make them laugh. I opted to laugh.)
Then we came to the Palace of the Grand Masters. That was ten Euros each to enter – but only for Carol and I. The girls got in free (including Julia and Maddy, ages 16 and 14 respectively) to nearly everything in Greece. I suppose when you have a birth dearth, you do anything as a country to encourage having children.
The Palace is, well, grand, and well worth the price of admission. The Grand Masters (different from Dutch Masters) were the various leaders of the Knights. There is much to see, including many early Roman mosaics that were taken from nearby islands to decorate the palace. They also had Exhibits from Ancient and Medieval Rhodes. All very interesting.We were impressed that so many rooms were open to wander around in. Reprising a photo from Italy, Torie stood in one of the huge fireplaces
(Quick aside: looking aft from the stern of the ship, there are six big freighters and a car ferry plying the Dardanelles.)
I had to laugh, however, when I came across part of the exhibit on Ancient Rhodes. Written by a Greek professor who apparently specializes in misogyny, the sign next to the various ancient bottles/stuff started with – and I kid you not:
"The women of ancient Rhodes, like all women, appear to have spent long hours taking care of their appearance."
And the professor wonders why he never gets a second date. For some reason, Carol and Julia were not as amused by the awkward sign as I was.
This was also the first day we had lunch on the ship – with Indonesian being the featured cuisine. It was quite good, and we’ve spent the day relaxing, reading, and writing. There’s certainly a lot to do in Istanbul.
Yesterday, we traveled for eleven hours from Bodrum to Kusadasi, only one hour of which was under sail. The ship covered 82 miles, with an average speed of 7.5 knots per hour. The head winds were tremendous.
Let’s go back to Tuesday. Rhodes is the last of the three Greek Isles we were visiting. It is also the largest of the three islands, and easily has to most to do and see. It is a very popular tourist spot. But, it also has some of the most historic and interesting backgrounds of any of the Greek Isles.
The main city/port on the island of Rhodes is helpfully called "Rhodes." We spent the morning exploring Rhodes Old Town. We live near Old Town Alexandria, VA. Old means something different in the New World than in Europe/Asia. People have been living in Rhodes Old Town for more than 2,400 years, so Old Town Alexandria has only 2,200 years or so to catch up.
The ship (the Windstar for those joining us late – one of the largest sailing vessels in the world, and one of the smallest cruise ships in the world!) was able to dock at the docks (is that the right expression?) – so no tender needed.
Old Town Rhodes is surrounded by the widest, sturdiest, most successful set of city walls in the Mediterranean Sea. We went through the Marine Gate, which stands approximately five stories tall (estimated by the author), and into a labyrinth of walkways and small streets with shops and restaurants. However, we made our way to the famous medieval Street of the Knights, which housed the knights of the different countries that belonged to the Order of St. John after they had been chased out of Jerusalem in 1291.
After living for a time on Cyprus, the Order bought the island from a pirate and then subdued the locals. The knights built the walls around the city (actually, slaves did the work but The Man always gets the credit).
Anyhow, we walked up the narrow cobblestoned street, and were able to go into the House of Spain. There was an art exhibit there, but we were more interested in the building. (I did read the description of the artists’ work – it was written by someone in the Ministry of Culture, and contained all the typical art buzzwords to either impress someone or make them laugh. I opted to laugh.)
Then we came to the Palace of the Grand Masters. That was ten Euros each to enter – but only for Carol and I. The girls got in free (including Julia and Maddy, ages 16 and 14 respectively) to nearly everything in Greece. I suppose when you have a birth dearth, you do anything as a country to encourage having children.
The Palace is, well, grand, and well worth the price of admission. The Grand Masters (different from Dutch Masters) were the various leaders of the Knights. There is much to see, including many early Roman mosaics that were taken from nearby islands to decorate the palace. They also had Exhibits from Ancient and Medieval Rhodes. All very interesting.We were impressed that so many rooms were open to wander around in. Reprising a photo from Italy, Torie stood in one of the huge fireplaces
(Quick aside: looking aft from the stern of the ship, there are six big freighters and a car ferry plying the Dardanelles.)
I had to laugh, however, when I came across part of the exhibit on Ancient Rhodes. Written by a Greek professor who apparently specializes in misogyny, the sign next to the various ancient bottles/stuff started with – and I kid you not:
"The women of ancient Rhodes, like all women, appear to have spent long hours taking care of their appearance."
And the professor wonders why he never gets a second date. For some reason, Carol and Julia were not as amused by the awkward sign as I was.
A Stranger Named Jimmy, In A Strange Land
We’re now cruising toward the Dardanelles, one of the historically important bodies of water in world history. To the port side (that’s the left, for any nautically-challenged readers) will be Gallipoli (in Europe), and to the right is Asia.
This is our full day at sea. We are nearly to the end of our time on the Aegean Sea. There are a lot of freighters coming through from the Black Sea. I also got the stats – there are 142 passengers and 98(!) crew aboard the Windstar.So, while I might not be able to post, I hope to get caught up on writing. I’m now three days behind on the narrative portions of the trip, but with nothing but time today. . .
Anyhow, I’m now at the point of the trip where the day-by-day accounting gets a tad boring to follow, so I’ll be jumping around from day to day.
Wednesday afternoon in Bodrum, after the tubing, we were hanging out on the boat. The girls were tired after sightseeing, swimming, and tubing. I got a bit restless, so Mrs. Iron Tourist released me to go back into Bodrum (remember, it was our first day in Turkey, so I wanted to see a bit more). The last tender wasn’t until 8:15pm, so it was a late departure to go to Kusadasi.
It’s a bit of a long walk from where the tender drops people off to the main part of Bodrum. I then turned off the main beach front into the back alleyways of Bodrum. Just one block proved to be a fairly dramatic shift from active resort area to slightly run-down beach town. There were betting shops, lots of small barbershops, and all the stores had much lower prices than the main drag. There were a number of closed stores, and a bunch of doner kebab take-aways. I was tempted to get one, but I didn’t have any Turkish Lira yet – the first ATM we had hit that morning only offered British pounds or Euros – even when I went with the Turkish language ATM screen.
(That proved to be a fun time guessing which is the right button to push. It all seemed to work out fine, although it is possible I transferred every dollar in our accounts to some son of a dead Nigerian diplomat.)
No one bothered me – or really even paid any attention to me. The sales work in the resort towns provided to be much less bothersome than in Greece, although I expect the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul to be the topper.
After a bit, I made my way back to the waterfront. I purchased a piece of fruit from an old guy sitting on a curb in a park selling. He cut both ends, peeled it and I ate it. It was green on the outside, citrus on the inside, and shaped like a barrel. Even though I’ve asked a few people, I have no idea what I ate. It was pretty tasty – any ideas from the readers on what it might be?
It was on the meandering walk that I was hit with a traveler’s revelation. I was a little discomfited that we had come to Turkey and were basically at a resort town – rather than getting the true flavor of the country (although, to be fair, you can’t do everything).
It then occurred to me that this was still an authentic traveler experience (as it were). These areas are where people from all over Europe come for their vacations, so it is a polyglot of tourism. The towns had morphed from sleepy fishing villages 30 years ago into major destinations. I didn’t get the sense that the people working in the tourist towns were unhappy or bitter that they were flooded with people during the summer.
After wandering around with no particular place to go, and goal other than people watch, I started heading back toward the ship. I found an ATM that actually dispensed the currency of the country I was in. Unfortunately, it was all in 50s. It’s a 2:1 TL to Euro exchange rate, and the dollar is worth 1.4 to the TL (Turkish Lira).
So, I needed to break a 50 to have something smaller. So I stopped at an ice cream stand where the Turk felt the need to use his English to trash talk at me. "Hi, Jimmy. Jimmy want some ice cream? Jimmy should know this ice cream good." So I ordered two scoops, and he then starting asking if Jimmy was from England. I said no. Jimmy from Ireland? No. Jimmy from Scotland? No. Jimmy from Wales? No. I couldn't stand the suspense, so I finally broke in and told him I was from America.
He was surprised. He told me that "Jimmy’s face didn’t look American" because it wasn’t dark enough. I was now totally confused. He told me "Jimmy look like Englishman." Now I just wanted to move along. I got revenge, because I paid for a 5 Lira ice cream with a 50 Lira note. He wasn’t happy and wanted a smaller bill. I blamed the ATMs.
(I swear, he must have called me Jimmy 15 times or so. I didn’t see the need to be on a first name basis with him, so I didn’t introduce myself. Since he was pretty content to call me Jimmy, learning that I was "Glen" would have disappointed him as much as learning I wasn’t from Great Britain or Ireland ).
Of course, you can bet that he didn’t call me Jimmy the Greek.
We then had the most fun meal of the trip so far. Because we were anchored in port, they closed the two shipboard restaurants and set up a BBQ on the back deck. They had a whole pig, beef, lobster tails, corn on the cob, shrimp, and a whole host of other good food. We were on the top halfdeck, with a relatively private table.
It was Carol’s birthday, and everyone was in a good, playful, talkative mood. We sat, talked, and joked around for quite some time. I had ordered a birthday cake for Carol, and they brought it up for her. We all sang happy birthday and hung out for a long time.
The crew then broke out the line dancing. (We didn’t join in, except from the upper deck when YMCA came on). Carol and I then embarrassed our kids once they switch to playing dance/rock songs (Love Shack, Old Time Rock and Roll, Runaround Sue) and we got out on the floor. It was a very fun, relaxing evening as we sailed toward Kusadasi.
This is our full day at sea. We are nearly to the end of our time on the Aegean Sea. There are a lot of freighters coming through from the Black Sea. I also got the stats – there are 142 passengers and 98(!) crew aboard the Windstar.So, while I might not be able to post, I hope to get caught up on writing. I’m now three days behind on the narrative portions of the trip, but with nothing but time today. . .
Anyhow, I’m now at the point of the trip where the day-by-day accounting gets a tad boring to follow, so I’ll be jumping around from day to day.
Wednesday afternoon in Bodrum, after the tubing, we were hanging out on the boat. The girls were tired after sightseeing, swimming, and tubing. I got a bit restless, so Mrs. Iron Tourist released me to go back into Bodrum (remember, it was our first day in Turkey, so I wanted to see a bit more). The last tender wasn’t until 8:15pm, so it was a late departure to go to Kusadasi.
It’s a bit of a long walk from where the tender drops people off to the main part of Bodrum. I then turned off the main beach front into the back alleyways of Bodrum. Just one block proved to be a fairly dramatic shift from active resort area to slightly run-down beach town. There were betting shops, lots of small barbershops, and all the stores had much lower prices than the main drag. There were a number of closed stores, and a bunch of doner kebab take-aways. I was tempted to get one, but I didn’t have any Turkish Lira yet – the first ATM we had hit that morning only offered British pounds or Euros – even when I went with the Turkish language ATM screen.
(That proved to be a fun time guessing which is the right button to push. It all seemed to work out fine, although it is possible I transferred every dollar in our accounts to some son of a dead Nigerian diplomat.)
No one bothered me – or really even paid any attention to me. The sales work in the resort towns provided to be much less bothersome than in Greece, although I expect the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul to be the topper.
After a bit, I made my way back to the waterfront. I purchased a piece of fruit from an old guy sitting on a curb in a park selling. He cut both ends, peeled it and I ate it. It was green on the outside, citrus on the inside, and shaped like a barrel. Even though I’ve asked a few people, I have no idea what I ate. It was pretty tasty – any ideas from the readers on what it might be?
It was on the meandering walk that I was hit with a traveler’s revelation. I was a little discomfited that we had come to Turkey and were basically at a resort town – rather than getting the true flavor of the country (although, to be fair, you can’t do everything).
It then occurred to me that this was still an authentic traveler experience (as it were). These areas are where people from all over Europe come for their vacations, so it is a polyglot of tourism. The towns had morphed from sleepy fishing villages 30 years ago into major destinations. I didn’t get the sense that the people working in the tourist towns were unhappy or bitter that they were flooded with people during the summer.
After wandering around with no particular place to go, and goal other than people watch, I started heading back toward the ship. I found an ATM that actually dispensed the currency of the country I was in. Unfortunately, it was all in 50s. It’s a 2:1 TL to Euro exchange rate, and the dollar is worth 1.4 to the TL (Turkish Lira).
So, I needed to break a 50 to have something smaller. So I stopped at an ice cream stand where the Turk felt the need to use his English to trash talk at me. "Hi, Jimmy. Jimmy want some ice cream? Jimmy should know this ice cream good." So I ordered two scoops, and he then starting asking if Jimmy was from England. I said no. Jimmy from Ireland? No. Jimmy from Scotland? No. Jimmy from Wales? No. I couldn't stand the suspense, so I finally broke in and told him I was from America.
He was surprised. He told me that "Jimmy’s face didn’t look American" because it wasn’t dark enough. I was now totally confused. He told me "Jimmy look like Englishman." Now I just wanted to move along. I got revenge, because I paid for a 5 Lira ice cream with a 50 Lira note. He wasn’t happy and wanted a smaller bill. I blamed the ATMs.
(I swear, he must have called me Jimmy 15 times or so. I didn’t see the need to be on a first name basis with him, so I didn’t introduce myself. Since he was pretty content to call me Jimmy, learning that I was "Glen" would have disappointed him as much as learning I wasn’t from Great Britain or Ireland ).
Of course, you can bet that he didn’t call me Jimmy the Greek.
We then had the most fun meal of the trip so far. Because we were anchored in port, they closed the two shipboard restaurants and set up a BBQ on the back deck. They had a whole pig, beef, lobster tails, corn on the cob, shrimp, and a whole host of other good food. We were on the top halfdeck, with a relatively private table.
It was Carol’s birthday, and everyone was in a good, playful, talkative mood. We sat, talked, and joked around for quite some time. I had ordered a birthday cake for Carol, and they brought it up for her. We all sang happy birthday and hung out for a long time.
The crew then broke out the line dancing. (We didn’t join in, except from the upper deck when YMCA came on). Carol and I then embarrassed our kids once they switch to playing dance/rock songs (Love Shack, Old Time Rock and Roll, Runaround Sue) and we got out on the floor. It was a very fun, relaxing evening as we sailed toward Kusadasi.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Greece Is The Word
Well, we're in port at Kusadasi, Turkey getting ready for the long run to Istanbul. I have a little free time now, so I figured I'd write some riffs on both Greece and Turkey (as well as the cruise ship). The various activities of the last few days will be written and (hopefully) posted tomorrow, if we get any wireless.
Today we toured the ancient city of Ephesus with a private guide. More on that tomorrow, but a very fascinating time.
First, the sailing info update from Stat Boy. Two days ago, going from Santorini to Rhodes (seems like a whole 'nother country ago -- oh, there's a reason why), it took the Windstar 15.5 hours to travel the 149.2 miles. The heavy winds weakened enough so that we were under sail for nearly 10 hours of the trip -- all coming at the final two thirds. Our average speed was 9.2 knots per hour (11 mph or so).
From Rhodes, Greece, to Bodrum, Turkey was only 70.2 miles (which is why we didn't leave Rhodes till 11pm). We were at sea for 9 hours, an average of 7.8 knots per hour (9-10 mph). The sails were up for less than a half hour.
We've had good chats with folks on the ship, but not hung out with them or anything. It is great family time -- not just during the day, but also during dinners. By the way, dinner in the main restaurant was much better the second time we tried -- we went later, and got our entrees in 30 minutes -- which is only an HOUR faster than the first try. Still prefer eating outside at the smaller, less formal Candles restaurant. Sometime you wanna go where everybody knows your name.
Turkey is my kind of Muslim country -- at least in the resorts, beer and wine sold at all restaurants. In Bodrum, there were signs advertising the cocktail(s) of the day. We're not hard alcohol drinkers, but it was a good secular sign to see. I was also surprised to see a few topless sunbathers, as well as posters with bikini-clad women advertising chick clothing stores. With the exception of the minarets of the mosques, it's difficult to see much Islamic influence on the culture (remember, I've just been here two days). I'm sure Istanbul is a bit more Muslim-centric.
The most refreshing difference between Greece and Turkey so far is that (I know change is coming in Istanbul), the Turkish restauranteurs and shop keepers are near as aggressive and in your face as their Greek counterparts.
It's funny on board -- we have the ship staff who know us and want to be friendly and helpful, and then there are other staffers who have "adopted" other guests. We are docked near a 2000 person Royal Carribean ship and a 750ish Seabourn Odyssey ship -- I can't image there is much of the guest/staff friendliness going on with those ships. Too big. If this were "Battleship", it would take two hits to sink our ship, and five to sink the RC behemoth.
Okay, so I'll admit that I only now fully grasp the impact of the sea on these two countries. While I'm getting the view from the Greek Islands and Turkish ports, it's clear why the sea has played such a huge role in the development and culture of the two nations. Another historical lesson from this trip (reinforced) is that, regardless of what some people think -- you can't stop trade. It's been happening for countless centuries under much more difficult life/travel conditions than exist now. And, that won't change.
While I haven't written about Rhodes yet, here's my take on the islands. Milos -- one day was enough to cover the island highlights. It would have been nice to have two more days in Santorini -- one to see the historic sites that are closed on Monday, and one to explore more of the beaches and the towns. When I'm reincarnated as a media consultant, I won't have to work as hard, and I'll have more time to travel.
Rhodes definitely needs three days, and maybe a fourth. We totally missed Lindos (it's national historic site -- if you are thinking of an oft-injured hockey player who never quite reached his potential, that's "Lindros" not "Lindos."). There are also some beautiful mountains and valleys that we would have liked to explored, as well as hitting more of the various beaches.
I wrote recently about the superiority of American beaches (body surfing, comfortable sand, shelling, etc. etc.). I will say three things for Greek (and Turkish, from what I've seen) beaches. There is a lot of variety in the beaches just on the same island -- so if you don't like one beach, drive a short ways and there will be a totally different type of beach. Secondly, the water is staggering clear. And thirdly, it's VERY easy to go there. You can easily rent lounge chairs, umbrellas, and buy drinks right on the beach. I would note a fourth advantage, but this is a family publication.
The flip side is that there is more litter, and a ton of cigarette butts on the ground. By the way -- I keep hearing that Europeans are great environmentalists, but I saw multiple instances in different parts of Greece where people just tossed litter on the street/beach/park as though they had never seen the crying Indian ad from the late 1960s/early 1970s.
Speaking of which, reaching back to Athens, it's pretty clear they think that refrigeration is the main cause of global warming. Warm water, warm soda, and semi-warm beer. At least in the islands things were refrigerated -- same with the Turkish resorts.
You want a bargain on real estate? Try the coast of Turkey -- great views, nice beaches, great food, low cost of living, and cheap prices. In fact, the two best meals we've had on the trip (besides on the ship) have been in Turkey for lunch. Of course, you need to be willing to overlook the chilling rise of the Islamist Party in Turkey, which may spoil all the fun in a few years. More to be written on that in a later post.
Today we toured the ancient city of Ephesus with a private guide. More on that tomorrow, but a very fascinating time.
First, the sailing info update from Stat Boy. Two days ago, going from Santorini to Rhodes (seems like a whole 'nother country ago -- oh, there's a reason why), it took the Windstar 15.5 hours to travel the 149.2 miles. The heavy winds weakened enough so that we were under sail for nearly 10 hours of the trip -- all coming at the final two thirds. Our average speed was 9.2 knots per hour (11 mph or so).
From Rhodes, Greece, to Bodrum, Turkey was only 70.2 miles (which is why we didn't leave Rhodes till 11pm). We were at sea for 9 hours, an average of 7.8 knots per hour (9-10 mph). The sails were up for less than a half hour.
We've had good chats with folks on the ship, but not hung out with them or anything. It is great family time -- not just during the day, but also during dinners. By the way, dinner in the main restaurant was much better the second time we tried -- we went later, and got our entrees in 30 minutes -- which is only an HOUR faster than the first try. Still prefer eating outside at the smaller, less formal Candles restaurant. Sometime you wanna go where everybody knows your name.
Turkey is my kind of Muslim country -- at least in the resorts, beer and wine sold at all restaurants. In Bodrum, there were signs advertising the cocktail(s) of the day. We're not hard alcohol drinkers, but it was a good secular sign to see. I was also surprised to see a few topless sunbathers, as well as posters with bikini-clad women advertising chick clothing stores. With the exception of the minarets of the mosques, it's difficult to see much Islamic influence on the culture (remember, I've just been here two days). I'm sure Istanbul is a bit more Muslim-centric.
The most refreshing difference between Greece and Turkey so far is that (I know change is coming in Istanbul), the Turkish restauranteurs and shop keepers are near as aggressive and in your face as their Greek counterparts.
It's funny on board -- we have the ship staff who know us and want to be friendly and helpful, and then there are other staffers who have "adopted" other guests. We are docked near a 2000 person Royal Carribean ship and a 750ish Seabourn Odyssey ship -- I can't image there is much of the guest/staff friendliness going on with those ships. Too big. If this were "Battleship", it would take two hits to sink our ship, and five to sink the RC behemoth.
Okay, so I'll admit that I only now fully grasp the impact of the sea on these two countries. While I'm getting the view from the Greek Islands and Turkish ports, it's clear why the sea has played such a huge role in the development and culture of the two nations. Another historical lesson from this trip (reinforced) is that, regardless of what some people think -- you can't stop trade. It's been happening for countless centuries under much more difficult life/travel conditions than exist now. And, that won't change.
While I haven't written about Rhodes yet, here's my take on the islands. Milos -- one day was enough to cover the island highlights. It would have been nice to have two more days in Santorini -- one to see the historic sites that are closed on Monday, and one to explore more of the beaches and the towns. When I'm reincarnated as a media consultant, I won't have to work as hard, and I'll have more time to travel.
Rhodes definitely needs three days, and maybe a fourth. We totally missed Lindos (it's national historic site -- if you are thinking of an oft-injured hockey player who never quite reached his potential, that's "Lindros" not "Lindos."). There are also some beautiful mountains and valleys that we would have liked to explored, as well as hitting more of the various beaches.
I wrote recently about the superiority of American beaches (body surfing, comfortable sand, shelling, etc. etc.). I will say three things for Greek (and Turkish, from what I've seen) beaches. There is a lot of variety in the beaches just on the same island -- so if you don't like one beach, drive a short ways and there will be a totally different type of beach. Secondly, the water is staggering clear. And thirdly, it's VERY easy to go there. You can easily rent lounge chairs, umbrellas, and buy drinks right on the beach. I would note a fourth advantage, but this is a family publication.
The flip side is that there is more litter, and a ton of cigarette butts on the ground. By the way -- I keep hearing that Europeans are great environmentalists, but I saw multiple instances in different parts of Greece where people just tossed litter on the street/beach/park as though they had never seen the crying Indian ad from the late 1960s/early 1970s.
Speaking of which, reaching back to Athens, it's pretty clear they think that refrigeration is the main cause of global warming. Warm water, warm soda, and semi-warm beer. At least in the islands things were refrigerated -- same with the Turkish resorts.
You want a bargain on real estate? Try the coast of Turkey -- great views, nice beaches, great food, low cost of living, and cheap prices. In fact, the two best meals we've had on the trip (besides on the ship) have been in Turkey for lunch. Of course, you need to be willing to overlook the chilling rise of the Islamist Party in Turkey, which may spoil all the fun in a few years. More to be written on that in a later post.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, There's Always Tomorrow. . .
I know I'm a few days behind on blogging.
However, tomorrow we are spending the entire day (and night) sailing from Kusadasi (near Ephesus) to Istanbul.
So I don't go entirely nuts having a day with nothing to do but relax, I'm going to spend some chunk of the day writing and hopefully posting as well.
However, tomorrow we are spending the entire day (and night) sailing from Kusadasi (near Ephesus) to Istanbul.
So I don't go entirely nuts having a day with nothing to do but relax, I'm going to spend some chunk of the day writing and hopefully posting as well.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
You Say Oia, I Say Oy!
We drove from nearly to southern most point on Santorini to the northernmost point – a town perched at the top of the caldera named "Oia." No consonants were harmed in the naming of the town. In fact, we heard it pronounced by people on the Windstar three or four different ways.
The drive between Kokkin and Fria was an adventure – as was the drive from Fria north to Oia, but for different reasons.In America, driving in predicated on the rule of law. In Greece (and other Mediterranean countries like Spain and Italy) driving is predicated on an amazing amount of trust in your fellow man.
Scooters and motorcycles zip past on your left and right. Four wheel ATVs are used by tourists to get around, and cars just randomly pull around them even in the face of oncoming traffic. Buses thunder along two-way roads built for one. Cars pull into the middle of traffic to get out of shops or side roads, because forcing on-coming traffic is the only way to get into the flow. The safest place to be is in the towns along the small streets that are pedestrian, scooter, and (in Santorini) donkey-only.
My favorite is seeing the locals weaving their scooters or motorcycles in and out of traffic despite no helmet, wearing flip flops, balancing their groceries on their lap, talking on their cell phones, all while, of course, smoking. Orthopedic surgeons must stay busy. As must morgues.Don’t get me wrong – driving this way is fun and keeps you focused and mentally alert. It’s also not for everyone. All sorts of drivers put their trust in drivers who are just as reckless as they are.
North of Fria, the traffic died out, but the road became treacherous. High atop the cliffs, it wound around with a fairly sheer drop down to the lowlands on the East and Northeast part of the island. The trade off was spectacular views – although I didn’t take my eyes off the road very often.
Oia is a great town. Not just because it has plenty of easy, free parking (although that helps!). It is a white town, terraced into the steep cliffs of the caldera, for a very dramatic effect. Unfortunately we weren’t staying late enough, but apparently it has the best sunset views on an island famous for them.
(I can now see the Castle of St. Peter in Bodrum, Turkey from the stateroom windows.)
The main part of Oia is all narrow pedestrian streets/walkways, although donkeys are also used here. We found a nice place for lunch looking back toward Fria. Very dramatic views. The food was fine (I had lamb and vegetables cooked in tin foil). I’m not sure if there is a different menu price for English-speakers or what, but the restaurants are very expensive. I know it is more likely due to the cost of bringing in much of the food from the mainland, but it’s hard to eat lunch for five for less than 70 Euros, which is approximately $100. The food is fine, but NOT spectacular.
Oia is definitely worth a visit, and has the best Greek feel of the island towns we’ve visited so far.
Because of the long distance to Rhodes, the ship was departing early, so the final tender back was set for 3:50. So, we headed back to return the rental car to Mr. Tony. He was satisfied it had no visible damage (I forgot to mention to look at any new scrapes on the undercarriage of the vehicle).
Torie really wanted to ride a donkey down. I looked around and realized I was the only parent who might actually be willing to get on one of those animals, so I volunteered to ride down with her. Mrs. Iron Tourist puts up with a lot, but riding a donkey down steep stairs is not one of her bucket list items. Maddy and Julia also opted for the cable car trip down.
Torie got her wish and rode a white donkey down. Our donkey driver looked up at me on the donkey and said in broken English – "don’t be scared." Apparently it was writ large on my face.
On the way down I was relatively fine, although I learned that taking one hand off to point was not a good idea. My donkey also seemed to want to run me into the walls or poles along the way, although no actual physical contact was made. Like most donkeys I know, this one was easily led, not very interested in anything, closed-minded to different points of view, and stubborn. (Note to my Democratic friends reading this – settle down, I was talking about animals, not political symbols. Probably.)
Our donkey driver also had to take 15 donkeys down with him so there were enough at the bottom. So, it was an unusual ride of him cajoling, whistling, and otherwise flicking at the donkeys to make their way down. Our three donkeys were tied together, but these others were loosely rambling down hill. The few people walking or riding donkeys up showed fear and surprise when they saw the tidal wave of milling donkeys heading toward them pell-mell, but somehow it all worked out.
On the way down, the view back up to Fria was quite pretty, as was looking down at the boats/ships in the harbor. I got off with sore knees and a keen recognition that I’m not about to have a mid-life crisis that involves being a cowboy or anything else having to do with riding animals.
(Note to future Santorini visitors – of the three ways up/down the caldera cliffs to/from Fria, walking is the cheapest. But, there's a trade-off. Roughly 788 of the 800 stairs are covered in donkey excrement, smeared all along the long steps. I'm not sh/kidding you. But hey, do what you want.)
As we sailed out of Santorini, Carol, Maddy and I sat on deck and watched the island go by. After a point, Maddy went down to rest. After rounding the island, we could see the cliffs of the Red Beach (no sand involved), with the umbrellas awaiting another round of polyglot tourists the next day.
The drive between Kokkin and Fria was an adventure – as was the drive from Fria north to Oia, but for different reasons.In America, driving in predicated on the rule of law. In Greece (and other Mediterranean countries like Spain and Italy) driving is predicated on an amazing amount of trust in your fellow man.
Scooters and motorcycles zip past on your left and right. Four wheel ATVs are used by tourists to get around, and cars just randomly pull around them even in the face of oncoming traffic. Buses thunder along two-way roads built for one. Cars pull into the middle of traffic to get out of shops or side roads, because forcing on-coming traffic is the only way to get into the flow. The safest place to be is in the towns along the small streets that are pedestrian, scooter, and (in Santorini) donkey-only.
My favorite is seeing the locals weaving their scooters or motorcycles in and out of traffic despite no helmet, wearing flip flops, balancing their groceries on their lap, talking on their cell phones, all while, of course, smoking. Orthopedic surgeons must stay busy. As must morgues.Don’t get me wrong – driving this way is fun and keeps you focused and mentally alert. It’s also not for everyone. All sorts of drivers put their trust in drivers who are just as reckless as they are.
North of Fria, the traffic died out, but the road became treacherous. High atop the cliffs, it wound around with a fairly sheer drop down to the lowlands on the East and Northeast part of the island. The trade off was spectacular views – although I didn’t take my eyes off the road very often.
Oia is a great town. Not just because it has plenty of easy, free parking (although that helps!). It is a white town, terraced into the steep cliffs of the caldera, for a very dramatic effect. Unfortunately we weren’t staying late enough, but apparently it has the best sunset views on an island famous for them.
(I can now see the Castle of St. Peter in Bodrum, Turkey from the stateroom windows.)
The main part of Oia is all narrow pedestrian streets/walkways, although donkeys are also used here. We found a nice place for lunch looking back toward Fria. Very dramatic views. The food was fine (I had lamb and vegetables cooked in tin foil). I’m not sure if there is a different menu price for English-speakers or what, but the restaurants are very expensive. I know it is more likely due to the cost of bringing in much of the food from the mainland, but it’s hard to eat lunch for five for less than 70 Euros, which is approximately $100. The food is fine, but NOT spectacular.
Oia is definitely worth a visit, and has the best Greek feel of the island towns we’ve visited so far.
Because of the long distance to Rhodes, the ship was departing early, so the final tender back was set for 3:50. So, we headed back to return the rental car to Mr. Tony. He was satisfied it had no visible damage (I forgot to mention to look at any new scrapes on the undercarriage of the vehicle).
Torie really wanted to ride a donkey down. I looked around and realized I was the only parent who might actually be willing to get on one of those animals, so I volunteered to ride down with her. Mrs. Iron Tourist puts up with a lot, but riding a donkey down steep stairs is not one of her bucket list items. Maddy and Julia also opted for the cable car trip down.
Torie got her wish and rode a white donkey down. Our donkey driver looked up at me on the donkey and said in broken English – "don’t be scared." Apparently it was writ large on my face.
On the way down I was relatively fine, although I learned that taking one hand off to point was not a good idea. My donkey also seemed to want to run me into the walls or poles along the way, although no actual physical contact was made. Like most donkeys I know, this one was easily led, not very interested in anything, closed-minded to different points of view, and stubborn. (Note to my Democratic friends reading this – settle down, I was talking about animals, not political symbols. Probably.)
Our donkey driver also had to take 15 donkeys down with him so there were enough at the bottom. So, it was an unusual ride of him cajoling, whistling, and otherwise flicking at the donkeys to make their way down. Our three donkeys were tied together, but these others were loosely rambling down hill. The few people walking or riding donkeys up showed fear and surprise when they saw the tidal wave of milling donkeys heading toward them pell-mell, but somehow it all worked out.
On the way down, the view back up to Fria was quite pretty, as was looking down at the boats/ships in the harbor. I got off with sore knees and a keen recognition that I’m not about to have a mid-life crisis that involves being a cowboy or anything else having to do with riding animals.
(Note to future Santorini visitors – of the three ways up/down the caldera cliffs to/from Fria, walking is the cheapest. But, there's a trade-off. Roughly 788 of the 800 stairs are covered in donkey excrement, smeared all along the long steps. I'm not sh/kidding you. But hey, do what you want.)
As we sailed out of Santorini, Carol, Maddy and I sat on deck and watched the island go by. After a point, Maddy went down to rest. After rounding the island, we could see the cliffs of the Red Beach (no sand involved), with the umbrellas awaiting another round of polyglot tourists the next day.
There's a Reason It's Called "Red Beach" and Not "Red SAND Beach"
It’s 7am Wednesday morning, and we are sailing off the coast of Turkey into Bodrum. I can see a number of Turkish towns on the peninsula. It’s also Carol’s birthday, so I’m letting her and the girls have a sleep in till 8:30 – I must be getting soft in my old Iron Tourist age. I’ve got to both finish Santorini and write about Rhodes.
Anyhow, picking the story back up on Santorini, after leaving Pirgos, we headed to Kokkin Beach – the famed Red Beach of Santorini. (Just by putting "famed" in front of the name, it sounds worth visiting, doesn’t it?). There are a couple of black sand beaches (volcano) on the island, but the girls noted we had already been to a black sand beach in Hawaii, but never a red sand beach (also volcanic). There are a number of regular beaches on Santorini, but only one red one.
After driving through the town of Akrotiki (nearby, yet different from the ruins of Akrotiri) we were cruising down a one lane, two way road when a bus came roaring at us. I made the quick decision to avoid the bus by pulling in front of it into the courtyard of some house. The other option was to squeeze to the side of the road as much as possible and hope there was a centimeter or so of clearance.
We made our way down to the coast and parked in the relatively empty (for now) parking lot. Again – free parking at a beach! It’s almost as though they want people to come visit.There is a beautiful white church built up against the cliffs right by the parking lot. Then, we hiked the trail around the rocky point. It was probably 3/8s of a mile long, but was up and down on loose sand/rock.Turning the corner, you could first see the large cove, then the beach nestled up against the red nearly sheer cliffs. Off to the side are large sections of white pumice walls. Very pretty, with lots of blue/white umbrellas and lounge chairs.
Nearly everyone rents the chairs and umbrellas — even if the beach isn’t rocky (see Rhodes write-up). However, Kokkin Beach IS rocky. There’s essentially no sand. It doesn’t make for the most comfortable beach, but the variety of stone (including white pumice, which floats), as well as the rocks in the water made for a fun time.The water, like in Milos, was colder than we expected. In fact, there weren’t many people in the water – they were too busy smoking whilst topless on the beach. There are very few kids at these beaches – not none, but not many.
I wish I had a better ear for languages, but it seemed as though most of the people spoke Greek (escapees from Athens in August, I presume), although there were many Brits, many French, and some Germans. Didn’t hear any Americans or Eastern Europeans.
(Okay, time for a pro-America paragraph. Our beaches rock. Because there aren’t many rocks. The advantage the Greek beaches have is that the water is generally VERY clear – although not so at Kokkin. However, our beaches are bigger, the waves are good, and there are actually families enjoying themselves. And the smoking is at a minimum. It’s neat to have come here and checked out a variety of beaches, but no need to keep coming back for the beaches.)
Because we had a tight schedule to keep, we didn’t stay very long. After 90 minutes or so, we headed back to the car on the overland route, with a few stops for photos (a setting got changed on the camera in Pirgos, so the photos had no contrast. I had to figure out the problem and fix it, so all the photos from the day came after the fix. Pirgos is a beautiful town, but I’m not sure we’ll have good pics from there).
The fun part came on the return to the parking lot. It was significantly more crowded, with cars parked haphazardly in the MIDDLE of the narrow lot. So, there were cars parked properly on both sides, and then a string of cars down the middle. I guess the beach was so important to get to that the high chance of having another back right into your doors because they had no other way to get out was worth the risk. Fortunately, we were right at a spot before the car blockade started.
The incoming drivers were very friendly to me, mostly because they realized we were leaving and there would be an open spot they could fight for. After pulling out, we had to wait for incoming and outgoing traffic to sort itself out, and eventually made it out.
Anyhow, picking the story back up on Santorini, after leaving Pirgos, we headed to Kokkin Beach – the famed Red Beach of Santorini. (Just by putting "famed" in front of the name, it sounds worth visiting, doesn’t it?). There are a couple of black sand beaches (volcano) on the island, but the girls noted we had already been to a black sand beach in Hawaii, but never a red sand beach (also volcanic). There are a number of regular beaches on Santorini, but only one red one.
After driving through the town of Akrotiki (nearby, yet different from the ruins of Akrotiri) we were cruising down a one lane, two way road when a bus came roaring at us. I made the quick decision to avoid the bus by pulling in front of it into the courtyard of some house. The other option was to squeeze to the side of the road as much as possible and hope there was a centimeter or so of clearance.
We made our way down to the coast and parked in the relatively empty (for now) parking lot. Again – free parking at a beach! It’s almost as though they want people to come visit.There is a beautiful white church built up against the cliffs right by the parking lot. Then, we hiked the trail around the rocky point. It was probably 3/8s of a mile long, but was up and down on loose sand/rock.Turning the corner, you could first see the large cove, then the beach nestled up against the red nearly sheer cliffs. Off to the side are large sections of white pumice walls. Very pretty, with lots of blue/white umbrellas and lounge chairs.
Nearly everyone rents the chairs and umbrellas — even if the beach isn’t rocky (see Rhodes write-up). However, Kokkin Beach IS rocky. There’s essentially no sand. It doesn’t make for the most comfortable beach, but the variety of stone (including white pumice, which floats), as well as the rocks in the water made for a fun time.The water, like in Milos, was colder than we expected. In fact, there weren’t many people in the water – they were too busy smoking whilst topless on the beach. There are very few kids at these beaches – not none, but not many.
I wish I had a better ear for languages, but it seemed as though most of the people spoke Greek (escapees from Athens in August, I presume), although there were many Brits, many French, and some Germans. Didn’t hear any Americans or Eastern Europeans.
(Okay, time for a pro-America paragraph. Our beaches rock. Because there aren’t many rocks. The advantage the Greek beaches have is that the water is generally VERY clear – although not so at Kokkin. However, our beaches are bigger, the waves are good, and there are actually families enjoying themselves. And the smoking is at a minimum. It’s neat to have come here and checked out a variety of beaches, but no need to keep coming back for the beaches.)
Because we had a tight schedule to keep, we didn’t stay very long. After 90 minutes or so, we headed back to the car on the overland route, with a few stops for photos (a setting got changed on the camera in Pirgos, so the photos had no contrast. I had to figure out the problem and fix it, so all the photos from the day came after the fix. Pirgos is a beautiful town, but I’m not sure we’ll have good pics from there).
The fun part came on the return to the parking lot. It was significantly more crowded, with cars parked haphazardly in the MIDDLE of the narrow lot. So, there were cars parked properly on both sides, and then a string of cars down the middle. I guess the beach was so important to get to that the high chance of having another back right into your doors because they had no other way to get out was worth the risk. Fortunately, we were right at a spot before the car blockade started.
The incoming drivers were very friendly to me, mostly because they realized we were leaving and there would be an open spot they could fight for. After pulling out, we had to wait for incoming and outgoing traffic to sort itself out, and eventually made it out.
Who loves you, baby. . .
We're getting ready to sail from Rhodes to Bordum. Turkey. From West to East.
Anyhow, had to get the Telly Savalas reference into a headline.
I will catch up on the blog tomorrow -- Gatesshallah (which means Gates-willing in Arabic), There's half of Santorini and all of Rhodes to go.
In the meantime, Opa! (No relation to Oprah!).
Anyhow, had to get the Telly Savalas reference into a headline.
I will catch up on the blog tomorrow -- Gatesshallah (which means Gates-willing in Arabic), There's half of Santorini and all of Rhodes to go.
In the meantime, Opa! (No relation to Oprah!).
Sail Calypso -- Riffs on the cruise and Greece
(These are random observations re the trip, the people, and the country. . .)
The oddest sight so far this trip has been the smoking areas in the two airports. Meant to mention this earlier, but in Frankfurt, the glass doors of the smoking lounges don’t shut all the way, so the smoke comes billowing out, defeating the purpose at least in the vicinity of the lounges.
In the Athens airport, the smoking lounge is even more comical. It’s out in the open, in an area that everyone passes through to get to the baggage claim, so everyone gets a goodly dose of smoke even though we don’t want it. There were a bunch of guys hunched up against the two big tables that literally had built in ashtrays. So the smoking section is confined to one part of the airport that we all hit.
The room on the ship is bigger than we expected. The ship (the Windstar) was built in 1986, and there is only room for 120 passengers or thereabouts, so I was expecting closets. Not that you want to hang out for hours in the room, but I expected a bathroom the size of a small closet, and a bedroom the size of a big closet. Instead, there is a decent amount of space.
Renting a car is the best, most independent way to see the islands. Driving is both fun and challenging (not for the faint of heart), and we aren’t captive to bus routes, tour groups, or tracking down taxis. And, for a family of five, it becomes an affordable option.
There are three really cool aspects to being on the ship:
The first is when we leave port. Sitting out on deck, enjoying a pint of beer, and looking at the rugged parts of the island is very relaxing, and also there are some beautiful rocky small islands nearby. Leaving Milos, there were two small islands with a narrow passageway in between (we didn’t go in between). With a lighthouse/building high atop one, and an outbuilding a little further down, it was easy to imagine a Bond scene could be filmed there.
The second cool aspect is after dinner, I like to go to foredeck (not sure that is the right boat term), and look up at the stars. The canopy is brilliant, and last night, with the use of binoculars, I was able to see the rings of Saturn. The first two nights Carol and I watched the moon rise – it started out red as it came above the horizon, and then eventually turned its more normal yellow.
The third cool aspect is that – except when the ship is entering port, in port, or leaving port, you can go onto the bridge and talk with the officer of the watch, look at the radar, study the charts. Last night, I had an extended discussion with the Officer of the Watch regarding the boat, stars, the planets. He had switched cruise lines because on the big traditional ships, he felt isolated – stuck in the bridge. Here, he just steps out and can see the night sky, talk to passengers, and generally be more of a sailor than a boat driver.The girls think the bridge is pretty neat – especially the charts and the radar. So far I’ve gotten Torie and Maddy on the bridge with me. Julia will be next. They are a little nervous that they will disturb the Officer of the Watch, but they then enjoy it when they realize we’re not in the way and the Officer enjoys the company.
My swim team friends call me "Stat Boy," so here’s the Stat Boy report. The first night, we spent 15 hours at see, averaging 6 knots (roughly 8 mph). The sails were up for 14.3 hours, and we sailed without power for 11.6 hours. The distance was 89.4 miles from Piraeus (the Port of Athens) to Milos.Then, from Milos to Santorini, we were at sea for 14.5 hours, with the sails up for 10.5 hours. We were under sail without engine power for 6 hours, average speed for the night was 5.5 knots, and covered 80.1 miles between the two islands. I happened to be awake at 3ish in the morning when the engines were fired up.
Oh – a really cool moment in Athens came atop the Acropolis. With the seven hour time difference, it was stunning to see the 0-0 game between the Yanks and Red Sox was still going on around 8:30 am Greek time. I hadn’t checked the score for a bit, and Maddy asked the outcome while we were walking across the Acropolis. I whipped out my Blackberry, and was able to report a 2-0 Yankee win on an A-Rod walk-off in the 15th.
(Given the Nats 8 game win streak and the Yankee sweep of the BoSox, apparently I should leave the country more often.)
The crew is very happy with how long the sails have been up so far. I don’t have last night’s stats (Santorini to Rhodes – which we haven’t yet reached as I write this early in the morning), but I know because of the high winds (which created high seas and extra rocking) we traveled with sails down and under engine power the whole trip (note to self – fact check, because the sails might have come up at some point in the early morning).
The officer last night also mentioned that a lot of time they rarely get to sail – because of the headwinds, so we’ve already done more pure sailing than they get for an entire week sometimes.I think the national sports of Greece are soccer, basketball, driving, parking, and smoking. Maybe it’s just more public here, but I’d love to see a comparison of the smoking rates of Greece and the US. Maybe I’m wrong, but it just seems more ubiquitous here.
The one drawback of the cruise is that we’re not really getting a flavor for Greek food, except at lunch. Readers of the Italy, Costa Rica, and Israel trips in the blog will note that food is an important part of any trip experiencing the country.
I bought a bottle of Santorini wine for us to try out. Now I gotta find a corkscrew without paying the $15 corkage fee. Maybe we can buy one in Rhodes.
(Clarification: Apparently Mrs. Iron Tourist did NOT wear a tennis skirt into the 11th Century Byzantine Church in Athens. Instead it was a GOLF skirt. Apparently there is a big fashion difference. Readers must be shocked that I didn’t, and don’t, know the difference.)
By the way, all the beautiful churches on the island are closed. If they opened some and charged a fee, they’d be making some money. I guess I’m used to Italy and Spain, where nearly all the historic churches are open.
So far, I’ve been patching together Internet access to download these posts. Hopefully in Istanbul I can get better coverage and download a bunch of photos. If you check it out one day and there are a string of photos, you’ll know there is an article somewhere further down.
Since some have asked, I just get up early each morning, and compose the blog posts while others sleep. Yes, I am doing the stereotypical blogger thing of writing whilst in my boxer shorts. At least I’m not in my parents basement.
The oddest sight so far this trip has been the smoking areas in the two airports. Meant to mention this earlier, but in Frankfurt, the glass doors of the smoking lounges don’t shut all the way, so the smoke comes billowing out, defeating the purpose at least in the vicinity of the lounges.
In the Athens airport, the smoking lounge is even more comical. It’s out in the open, in an area that everyone passes through to get to the baggage claim, so everyone gets a goodly dose of smoke even though we don’t want it. There were a bunch of guys hunched up against the two big tables that literally had built in ashtrays. So the smoking section is confined to one part of the airport that we all hit.
The room on the ship is bigger than we expected. The ship (the Windstar) was built in 1986, and there is only room for 120 passengers or thereabouts, so I was expecting closets. Not that you want to hang out for hours in the room, but I expected a bathroom the size of a small closet, and a bedroom the size of a big closet. Instead, there is a decent amount of space.
Renting a car is the best, most independent way to see the islands. Driving is both fun and challenging (not for the faint of heart), and we aren’t captive to bus routes, tour groups, or tracking down taxis. And, for a family of five, it becomes an affordable option.
There are three really cool aspects to being on the ship:
The first is when we leave port. Sitting out on deck, enjoying a pint of beer, and looking at the rugged parts of the island is very relaxing, and also there are some beautiful rocky small islands nearby. Leaving Milos, there were two small islands with a narrow passageway in between (we didn’t go in between). With a lighthouse/building high atop one, and an outbuilding a little further down, it was easy to imagine a Bond scene could be filmed there.
The second cool aspect is after dinner, I like to go to foredeck (not sure that is the right boat term), and look up at the stars. The canopy is brilliant, and last night, with the use of binoculars, I was able to see the rings of Saturn. The first two nights Carol and I watched the moon rise – it started out red as it came above the horizon, and then eventually turned its more normal yellow.
The third cool aspect is that – except when the ship is entering port, in port, or leaving port, you can go onto the bridge and talk with the officer of the watch, look at the radar, study the charts. Last night, I had an extended discussion with the Officer of the Watch regarding the boat, stars, the planets. He had switched cruise lines because on the big traditional ships, he felt isolated – stuck in the bridge. Here, he just steps out and can see the night sky, talk to passengers, and generally be more of a sailor than a boat driver.The girls think the bridge is pretty neat – especially the charts and the radar. So far I’ve gotten Torie and Maddy on the bridge with me. Julia will be next. They are a little nervous that they will disturb the Officer of the Watch, but they then enjoy it when they realize we’re not in the way and the Officer enjoys the company.
My swim team friends call me "Stat Boy," so here’s the Stat Boy report. The first night, we spent 15 hours at see, averaging 6 knots (roughly 8 mph). The sails were up for 14.3 hours, and we sailed without power for 11.6 hours. The distance was 89.4 miles from Piraeus (the Port of Athens) to Milos.Then, from Milos to Santorini, we were at sea for 14.5 hours, with the sails up for 10.5 hours. We were under sail without engine power for 6 hours, average speed for the night was 5.5 knots, and covered 80.1 miles between the two islands. I happened to be awake at 3ish in the morning when the engines were fired up.
Oh – a really cool moment in Athens came atop the Acropolis. With the seven hour time difference, it was stunning to see the 0-0 game between the Yanks and Red Sox was still going on around 8:30 am Greek time. I hadn’t checked the score for a bit, and Maddy asked the outcome while we were walking across the Acropolis. I whipped out my Blackberry, and was able to report a 2-0 Yankee win on an A-Rod walk-off in the 15th.
(Given the Nats 8 game win streak and the Yankee sweep of the BoSox, apparently I should leave the country more often.)
The crew is very happy with how long the sails have been up so far. I don’t have last night’s stats (Santorini to Rhodes – which we haven’t yet reached as I write this early in the morning), but I know because of the high winds (which created high seas and extra rocking) we traveled with sails down and under engine power the whole trip (note to self – fact check, because the sails might have come up at some point in the early morning).
The officer last night also mentioned that a lot of time they rarely get to sail – because of the headwinds, so we’ve already done more pure sailing than they get for an entire week sometimes.I think the national sports of Greece are soccer, basketball, driving, parking, and smoking. Maybe it’s just more public here, but I’d love to see a comparison of the smoking rates of Greece and the US. Maybe I’m wrong, but it just seems more ubiquitous here.
The one drawback of the cruise is that we’re not really getting a flavor for Greek food, except at lunch. Readers of the Italy, Costa Rica, and Israel trips in the blog will note that food is an important part of any trip experiencing the country.
I bought a bottle of Santorini wine for us to try out. Now I gotta find a corkscrew without paying the $15 corkage fee. Maybe we can buy one in Rhodes.
(Clarification: Apparently Mrs. Iron Tourist did NOT wear a tennis skirt into the 11th Century Byzantine Church in Athens. Instead it was a GOLF skirt. Apparently there is a big fashion difference. Readers must be shocked that I didn’t, and don’t, know the difference.)
By the way, all the beautiful churches on the island are closed. If they opened some and charged a fee, they’d be making some money. I guess I’m used to Italy and Spain, where nearly all the historic churches are open.
So far, I’ve been patching together Internet access to download these posts. Hopefully in Istanbul I can get better coverage and download a bunch of photos. If you check it out one day and there are a string of photos, you’ll know there is an article somewhere further down.
Since some have asked, I just get up early each morning, and compose the blog posts while others sleep. Yes, I am doing the stereotypical blogger thing of writing whilst in my boxer shorts. At least I’m not in my parents basement.
Monday, August 10, 2009
No need to be nervous Mr. Tony
The first day, we were the only ones on the first tender. The second day the first tender of the day was packed. In fact, because of the higher demand (or maybe local union rules) they used a much larger tender that was run by the locals, instead of the relatively small tenders on the ship.
Actually, they ran two tenders back-to-back because of the demand. The first was reserved for those taking the tour, while the second was for the "Independents" as we were called. The Independents were all jammed up in the reception area, waiting to catch the first tender (we didn’t know until it was announced that they had a bigger tender, so everyone was crowding round to make sure they would be one of the lucky ones on the small tender. Turned out not to be an issue.).
Anyhow, the tour group had gathered in the lounge for a briefing, and then were led, single file, through an opening in the Independents to catch the first tender. The whole scene had a West Side Story Sharks vs. Jets vibe to it. The Tour group looked like they were being led like sheep, whilst us Independents felt superior in our ability to strike out on our own to explore the island.
Santorini is a really neat island – with the main town, Fria, perched high above the port, on the rim of what was a volcano. The entire bay is a caldera from which there was a huge eruption in 1450 BC – the Minoans who lived here then are thought to be the inspiration for the legend of Atlantis.There are three ways up to Fria from the 885 feet from the small port – walk the 800 steps, take the cable car, or take a mule. Going up, we took the cable car – the cost wasn’t cheap – 18 Euros for the family, but it was the quickest, easiest option.
We wandered the narrow walkways of the town to find a rental car agency. At one point, we had to press against the walls as a mule driver drove a number of mules through the narrow walkway. If we hadn’t hopped out of the way, we’d have been like Republicans in the 2006/2008 elections – crushed by stampeding donkeys. (Btw, in the elephant, my political party got the far better animal symbol than the donkey.)
We found Tony’s rental car agency after a bit, and Mr. Tony himself took care of us. We rented a car that actually seats five – a Hyundai Accent. Mr. Tony is a very nice guy, but three things jumped out. He kept stressing it is an automatic – and the way he said it, he was implying that made it more difficult to drive. He was also very meticulous in pointing out the damage that had already existed on the car (which is fine – I didn’t want to be responsible for a pre-existing dent).
He also seemed very nervous renting to an American family, but of course, how could he know that I enjoy the challenge of driving in places like Spain, Florence, Ireland, and yes, even the wilds of Boston and Manhattan.The one disappointment is that on Monday, both ancient sites on the island are closed – so we couldn’t go see Ancient Thira or Akrotiri. So instead we patiently fought our way through the crowded Fira streets and headed for Pirgos. The town is the highest city on the island, and is the oldest surviving city, with many beautiful blue-domed churches with impressive bell towers.
I immediately confirmed Mr. Tony’s nervousness, as pulling from a parking lot to a cobblestone street I managed to scrape the bottom of the car (no visible damage, no leaks!). Sorry Mr. Tony!
We parked and walked up to the top of the town through winding pathways. Very pretty views of the Mediterranean all around, and we never knew what would be around the next corner. Torie was especially taken with all the random cats in Pirgos. (There are a lot of random cats and dogs all over Athens and Santorini. We didn’t see many in Milos. I think many of the dogs are strays, while the cats are cats.)
Well, we’ve just docked at Rhodes, so it is time to wake everyone up (7:25 am) and get ready for the day. I will finish writing about the day in Santorini tomorrow morning – writing the riffs has put me a bit behind schedule, but hopefully my faithful readers enjoy those.
Actually, they ran two tenders back-to-back because of the demand. The first was reserved for those taking the tour, while the second was for the "Independents" as we were called. The Independents were all jammed up in the reception area, waiting to catch the first tender (we didn’t know until it was announced that they had a bigger tender, so everyone was crowding round to make sure they would be one of the lucky ones on the small tender. Turned out not to be an issue.).
Anyhow, the tour group had gathered in the lounge for a briefing, and then were led, single file, through an opening in the Independents to catch the first tender. The whole scene had a West Side Story Sharks vs. Jets vibe to it. The Tour group looked like they were being led like sheep, whilst us Independents felt superior in our ability to strike out on our own to explore the island.
Santorini is a really neat island – with the main town, Fria, perched high above the port, on the rim of what was a volcano. The entire bay is a caldera from which there was a huge eruption in 1450 BC – the Minoans who lived here then are thought to be the inspiration for the legend of Atlantis.There are three ways up to Fria from the 885 feet from the small port – walk the 800 steps, take the cable car, or take a mule. Going up, we took the cable car – the cost wasn’t cheap – 18 Euros for the family, but it was the quickest, easiest option.
We wandered the narrow walkways of the town to find a rental car agency. At one point, we had to press against the walls as a mule driver drove a number of mules through the narrow walkway. If we hadn’t hopped out of the way, we’d have been like Republicans in the 2006/2008 elections – crushed by stampeding donkeys. (Btw, in the elephant, my political party got the far better animal symbol than the donkey.)
We found Tony’s rental car agency after a bit, and Mr. Tony himself took care of us. We rented a car that actually seats five – a Hyundai Accent. Mr. Tony is a very nice guy, but three things jumped out. He kept stressing it is an automatic – and the way he said it, he was implying that made it more difficult to drive. He was also very meticulous in pointing out the damage that had already existed on the car (which is fine – I didn’t want to be responsible for a pre-existing dent).
He also seemed very nervous renting to an American family, but of course, how could he know that I enjoy the challenge of driving in places like Spain, Florence, Ireland, and yes, even the wilds of Boston and Manhattan.The one disappointment is that on Monday, both ancient sites on the island are closed – so we couldn’t go see Ancient Thira or Akrotiri. So instead we patiently fought our way through the crowded Fira streets and headed for Pirgos. The town is the highest city on the island, and is the oldest surviving city, with many beautiful blue-domed churches with impressive bell towers.
I immediately confirmed Mr. Tony’s nervousness, as pulling from a parking lot to a cobblestone street I managed to scrape the bottom of the car (no visible damage, no leaks!). Sorry Mr. Tony!
We parked and walked up to the top of the town through winding pathways. Very pretty views of the Mediterranean all around, and we never knew what would be around the next corner. Torie was especially taken with all the random cats in Pirgos. (There are a lot of random cats and dogs all over Athens and Santorini. We didn’t see many in Milos. I think many of the dogs are strays, while the cats are cats.)
Well, we’ve just docked at Rhodes, so it is time to wake everyone up (7:25 am) and get ready for the day. I will finish writing about the day in Santorini tomorrow morning – writing the riffs has put me a bit behind schedule, but hopefully my faithful readers enjoy those.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Chaos Theory Is Greek For "Park Anywhere You Damn Well Please"
The sun is rising over the Mediterranean Sea, as we are on our way to Santorini. Yesterday, we were scheduled to go to Mykonos, but the high winds there caused the captain to divert the boat much further south to Milos.
The boat anchored offshore. The first tender left for shore at 8:30. Seeking to maintain our official Iron Tourist family status, my goal was to be on the first tender. We made it – and we were the only ones on the tender. Even on a cruise, we are certified (or certifiable) Iron Tourists.
I would write more about the ride to shore, but Billy Joel advises to "leave a tender moment alone." (Sorry – if you haven’t figured out that I go for the cheap joke by now, it’s time to find another blog to read.)
We came ashore in Adamas with one goal – to seize the island! (Not really, but it sounds much more dramatic that way.) Well, our real goal was to rent a car. Right along the port there are a number of car rental places. The first one we walked in, the guy said (after making a quick call to check avails) he only had a car that fit four people. So we tried next door. No cars till 11am. Down the street, the place was closed till 9:30. Another place had no cars (it is a small island, and it is August).
So, on the verge of being shutout like the Red Sox in a key August series, I went back to the first guy and beseeched him (possibly my first case of beseeching ever – it wasn’t begging, because it was too confident to be begging) to rent us the car. He shrugged and said, okay. I got picked up to be taken to the main location in a Jiminy that was a bit of a banger – no top over the back, and some bangs and bruises. Turns out that our car.
So, in a move that made Ralph Nader turn over in his grave (he’s not dead? Bummer of an analogy) we drove around Milos unsafe at any speed. Torie sat on Julia’s lap, with her head at the perfect level to bang into the metal covering Carol and I. My seat wasn’t far enough back for me to be comfortable driving, and given the stick shift feel, I was never exactly sure which gear I was in.
But at least the roads were narrow, windy, and steep. We first set out for the Tripitl/Plaka area to see the 1st Century AD Christian Catacombs. At points we were collapsing the side mirrors just so we could fit down the road between the houses. At least the Greeks on their way to church did everything they could to not get out of the road. Mrs. Iron Tourist looked at me at one point, and said – "well, you are happy now – you get to drive a beater car on tight, narrow streets." We only got lost once, because we were taking the back, more difficult way to the Catacombs, and the sign for the final turn was only visible from the other direction (apparently, no sane tourist would take the route we did).
Carved into the side of the cliffs overlooking the bay, the Catacombs were down a path. Not nearly as dramatic or moving as the ones outside of Rome, it was still nonetheless a worthwhile visit.We then took the easier route back, and headed for the north side of the island. We made a quick stop for water and provisions at a popular bakery. It was there that we first saw Greek chaos theory at work. People park half into the street, hither and yon, providing virtually no space to get through. In the States, half the cars would have been ticketed, and the other half would have been towed. The trick to parking in Milos (or Athens for that matter) is to find a square of land that appears to be unoccupied, and leave your car there.
We then drove to Sarakinko Beach, which is one of the most dramatic beach-scapes in the world. The rocks were stark white, carved by the wind and waves in a very dramatic setting. There was a small cove with about a 25 foot long sandy beach, set back in the rocks. As the waves pounded the rocks, the cove was an enjoyable oasis. The girls climbed nearby rock formations for dramatic white rock/pure blue sky photos.
(Speaking of photos, I’m having troubles downloading any to the blogger.com site. Hopefully in Istanbul when we reach land.)
We stayed at Sarakinko for an hour or so, and should have stayed longer. There may be other places like it on earth, but not many. More people were showing up when we left, but it was pretty deserted at first. We drove the north shore looking for Papafragas beach, but it turns out it was some scenic cliffs with water smashing the rocks. Very pretty, but not what we were looking for.
So we crisscrossed the island, heading for the "resort" "town" of Paleohori. This was Greek chaos theory at its best. Cars were strewn along the sides of the street (there’s pretty much only one street). While parking in a beach town in the States has more rules and regulations than any other human endeavor, parking here was – "if my car fits, it’s a space!"
We hung out on the sandy/rocky beach that was both very long and hemmed in by volcanic rock cliffs. I was struck by the number of women in bikinis who were smoking. The water is clear as can be, and the bay had the requisite sailboat anchored in the middle to make the picture complete.
We stayed for a few hours, and then went to Sirocco’s for lunch. They actually cook the meat in the volcanic rock. (I suppose if your meat gets cooked too quickly, that’s a bad sign). Maddy and I both had the pork kebab, which was both delicious and served in a very cool fashion – hanging straight down on the skewer on the kebab holder. Don’t get the crab salad – Mrs. Iron Tourist had it, and later lost her lunch (literally), but she did recover.
Afterwards, I hoofed it back to the car, and delicately made my way out of the town. No scrapes, despite gaps in the parked cars that appeared smaller than our small jiminy. We drove back to Adamas, and returned the car. We walked back to port, and caught the tender.
While Milos isn’t the most spectacular island, it was still a good stop. Renting the car was crucial. Others from the ship who didn’t rent a vehicle had a rather dull day. There are few better ways to feel like you’ve cheated death than to drive around in a Mediterranean country (see previous Italy blog posts, and Spain write-up).
After returning to the boat, we spent the afternoon relaxing. Carol had a massage in the spa, I worked on the blog and then watched the dramatic scenery as we left the bay in Milos. Maddy joined me on the bridge, where we talked a while to the captain, and checked out the charts. The ability to walk on the bridge, talk to the Captain, look at the radar and check out the charts is pretty cool.
We then hung out for a while on the back of the boat by the (very small) pool and pool bar. Very relaxing looking at the nearby islands.
Dinner was a disappointment. Not the food, but the service. The first night, we ate outside at the smaller "Candles" on the 4th deck (there are only four decks), and the service, the food, and the view was great. Tonight (the second night), we ate in the inside, dress-up restaurant. It took us 90 minutes from when we sat down to get our entrees on the table. The kids were tired and the wait was far too long. The food was good – although there’s no real Greek component to it.
The first night, we had a good bottle of Italian red. After dinner, we took our glass and stood on the 4th deck at the front (bow) of the ship. Both nights, once the sun went down completely, the red moon rise was dramatic, as were the stars that revealed themselves. Very peaceful, beautiful setting.
The sailboat cruise is a good way to see the Greek islands – you travel at night, and get up the next morning in a new port. Even now, as I write whilst the wife sleeps, I can look out the windows and see the dramatic cliffs on the island of Santorini.Now, I just gotta figure out how to post these articles more easily!
More observations about the sailboat cruise in a future post.
The boat anchored offshore. The first tender left for shore at 8:30. Seeking to maintain our official Iron Tourist family status, my goal was to be on the first tender. We made it – and we were the only ones on the tender. Even on a cruise, we are certified (or certifiable) Iron Tourists.
I would write more about the ride to shore, but Billy Joel advises to "leave a tender moment alone." (Sorry – if you haven’t figured out that I go for the cheap joke by now, it’s time to find another blog to read.)
We came ashore in Adamas with one goal – to seize the island! (Not really, but it sounds much more dramatic that way.) Well, our real goal was to rent a car. Right along the port there are a number of car rental places. The first one we walked in, the guy said (after making a quick call to check avails) he only had a car that fit four people. So we tried next door. No cars till 11am. Down the street, the place was closed till 9:30. Another place had no cars (it is a small island, and it is August).
So, on the verge of being shutout like the Red Sox in a key August series, I went back to the first guy and beseeched him (possibly my first case of beseeching ever – it wasn’t begging, because it was too confident to be begging) to rent us the car. He shrugged and said, okay. I got picked up to be taken to the main location in a Jiminy that was a bit of a banger – no top over the back, and some bangs and bruises. Turns out that our car.
So, in a move that made Ralph Nader turn over in his grave (he’s not dead? Bummer of an analogy) we drove around Milos unsafe at any speed. Torie sat on Julia’s lap, with her head at the perfect level to bang into the metal covering Carol and I. My seat wasn’t far enough back for me to be comfortable driving, and given the stick shift feel, I was never exactly sure which gear I was in.
But at least the roads were narrow, windy, and steep. We first set out for the Tripitl/Plaka area to see the 1st Century AD Christian Catacombs. At points we were collapsing the side mirrors just so we could fit down the road between the houses. At least the Greeks on their way to church did everything they could to not get out of the road. Mrs. Iron Tourist looked at me at one point, and said – "well, you are happy now – you get to drive a beater car on tight, narrow streets." We only got lost once, because we were taking the back, more difficult way to the Catacombs, and the sign for the final turn was only visible from the other direction (apparently, no sane tourist would take the route we did).
Carved into the side of the cliffs overlooking the bay, the Catacombs were down a path. Not nearly as dramatic or moving as the ones outside of Rome, it was still nonetheless a worthwhile visit.We then took the easier route back, and headed for the north side of the island. We made a quick stop for water and provisions at a popular bakery. It was there that we first saw Greek chaos theory at work. People park half into the street, hither and yon, providing virtually no space to get through. In the States, half the cars would have been ticketed, and the other half would have been towed. The trick to parking in Milos (or Athens for that matter) is to find a square of land that appears to be unoccupied, and leave your car there.
We then drove to Sarakinko Beach, which is one of the most dramatic beach-scapes in the world. The rocks were stark white, carved by the wind and waves in a very dramatic setting. There was a small cove with about a 25 foot long sandy beach, set back in the rocks. As the waves pounded the rocks, the cove was an enjoyable oasis. The girls climbed nearby rock formations for dramatic white rock/pure blue sky photos.
(Speaking of photos, I’m having troubles downloading any to the blogger.com site. Hopefully in Istanbul when we reach land.)
We stayed at Sarakinko for an hour or so, and should have stayed longer. There may be other places like it on earth, but not many. More people were showing up when we left, but it was pretty deserted at first. We drove the north shore looking for Papafragas beach, but it turns out it was some scenic cliffs with water smashing the rocks. Very pretty, but not what we were looking for.
So we crisscrossed the island, heading for the "resort" "town" of Paleohori. This was Greek chaos theory at its best. Cars were strewn along the sides of the street (there’s pretty much only one street). While parking in a beach town in the States has more rules and regulations than any other human endeavor, parking here was – "if my car fits, it’s a space!"
We hung out on the sandy/rocky beach that was both very long and hemmed in by volcanic rock cliffs. I was struck by the number of women in bikinis who were smoking. The water is clear as can be, and the bay had the requisite sailboat anchored in the middle to make the picture complete.
We stayed for a few hours, and then went to Sirocco’s for lunch. They actually cook the meat in the volcanic rock. (I suppose if your meat gets cooked too quickly, that’s a bad sign). Maddy and I both had the pork kebab, which was both delicious and served in a very cool fashion – hanging straight down on the skewer on the kebab holder. Don’t get the crab salad – Mrs. Iron Tourist had it, and later lost her lunch (literally), but she did recover.
Afterwards, I hoofed it back to the car, and delicately made my way out of the town. No scrapes, despite gaps in the parked cars that appeared smaller than our small jiminy. We drove back to Adamas, and returned the car. We walked back to port, and caught the tender.
While Milos isn’t the most spectacular island, it was still a good stop. Renting the car was crucial. Others from the ship who didn’t rent a vehicle had a rather dull day. There are few better ways to feel like you’ve cheated death than to drive around in a Mediterranean country (see previous Italy blog posts, and Spain write-up).
After returning to the boat, we spent the afternoon relaxing. Carol had a massage in the spa, I worked on the blog and then watched the dramatic scenery as we left the bay in Milos. Maddy joined me on the bridge, where we talked a while to the captain, and checked out the charts. The ability to walk on the bridge, talk to the Captain, look at the radar and check out the charts is pretty cool.
We then hung out for a while on the back of the boat by the (very small) pool and pool bar. Very relaxing looking at the nearby islands.
Dinner was a disappointment. Not the food, but the service. The first night, we ate outside at the smaller "Candles" on the 4th deck (there are only four decks), and the service, the food, and the view was great. Tonight (the second night), we ate in the inside, dress-up restaurant. It took us 90 minutes from when we sat down to get our entrees on the table. The kids were tired and the wait was far too long. The food was good – although there’s no real Greek component to it.
The first night, we had a good bottle of Italian red. After dinner, we took our glass and stood on the 4th deck at the front (bow) of the ship. Both nights, once the sun went down completely, the red moon rise was dramatic, as were the stars that revealed themselves. Very peaceful, beautiful setting.
The sailboat cruise is a good way to see the Greek islands – you travel at night, and get up the next morning in a new port. Even now, as I write whilst the wife sleeps, I can look out the windows and see the dramatic cliffs on the island of Santorini.Now, I just gotta figure out how to post these articles more easily!
More observations about the sailboat cruise in a future post.
Plaka by foot
Onbboard the ship now, heading to Milos. So, while waiting to get ready for dinner, I thought I’d write a bit more about Athens. Not sure when I’ll get to upload this, however. Internet service is slow and costly. Such is life on the harsh Aegean Sea.
Anyhow, after the Acropolis, we headed down to the Agora (the Greek market). It’s where Socrates spent his days in rational debate (clearly he was not a member of Congress), and, according to one guide book, Western philosophy (which is still pretty good, even if it is passe with many) and politics were born.
The Agora is also home to the Theseion, which is the best-preserved ancient temple in Greece. Built in the 5th BC, it has interesting friezes – one featuring Hercules (pre-Disney), and the other showing Centaurs battling it out (Let’s get ready to rumble!). The day was getting warm, so we stopped by Monstiraki Square and had some milkshakes (the girls), Coca Cola Lite (Carol), or Perrier (me).
From there, it was a short walk to the Roman Forum, which includes the 1st Century BC Tower of the Winds, an early version of the Weather Channel (albeit no radar map, alas). From there we traipsed back to the other side of the Acropolis (up hill, and hot – good times!). It is fun getting semi-lost in the Plaka neighborhood. The good news, since it is August, there are not many cars on the streets, so they were semi-pedestrian alleyways.
The girls weren’t as struck by the idea that wandering in generally the right direction is fun. I’ve always had a good sense of direction (except in Vegas – can’t figure that city’s layout out), and eventually we got where we were going – the New Acropolis Museum (another good name for a rock band). Built by the Greeks as a way to get the Elgin Marbles returned by the Brits, it’s a VERY impressive museum that is free for the kids, and only one Euro per adult.The Museum is well worth the price of admission. Beautiful pottery, sculptures, and other art recovered from the Acropolis grounds.
The Brits have so far declined to return the stuff they took from the Acropolis and now have in the British Museum. The Brits wouldn’t do it because they claimed the treasures would be damaged. So, the new museum was constructed – start of the art, and just opened this June.Now, the Greeks have space for those treasures, with plaster casts and signs indicating that the originals are at the British Museum. Except the signs say "BM", which I wonder if it is a scatological reference shot from the Greeks for the Brits.
Sorry Brits, even though I’m an Anglophile, your time with those treasures is running short – time to give them back.After an hour (which isn’t enough time, but the Iron Tourist knew the Iron Tourist fam was hungry, plus a time sched), we bid adieu to the Museum (see the Acropolis first, before the heat of the day, then hit the air conditioned museum). We headed in the general direction of the restaurants of Plaka.
We were hoping to find a restaurant named Psaras, which our friends Lisa Guide and John Passacantando recommended to us.Note to Athens tourist bureau – one map just of Plaka would be a Zeus-send. We wandered around, and then I said – well, either it is up this street (actually stairs carved into the hill) or we’ll just go somewhere else. I was right – it was Psaras restaurant.We ate outside – very pretty setting, with purple flowers streaming everywhere. The food, when it eventually got to us, was good.
They didn’t have sardines as Lisa promised, but I had lamb in a ceramic pot, and tried Alfa beer (Mythos beer yesterday). Two types of Greek beer tried, although the best selling beers appear to be Heineken and Amstel Light.The problem was that it took more than half hour to get our food. Big groups who got there after us were served before us. I think the service is impressive (not like Italy), but there was a clear breakdown in the kitchen on our food. As an apology, after lunch, they gave us a free plate of watermelon and honeydew melon. Note to businesses – when you screw up, acknowledging it with some tangible apology goes a LONG way. So, I did appreciate their apology. I’d still recommend the restaurant.
Anyhow, after the Acropolis, we headed down to the Agora (the Greek market). It’s where Socrates spent his days in rational debate (clearly he was not a member of Congress), and, according to one guide book, Western philosophy (which is still pretty good, even if it is passe with many) and politics were born.
The Agora is also home to the Theseion, which is the best-preserved ancient temple in Greece. Built in the 5th BC, it has interesting friezes – one featuring Hercules (pre-Disney), and the other showing Centaurs battling it out (Let’s get ready to rumble!). The day was getting warm, so we stopped by Monstiraki Square and had some milkshakes (the girls), Coca Cola Lite (Carol), or Perrier (me).
From there, it was a short walk to the Roman Forum, which includes the 1st Century BC Tower of the Winds, an early version of the Weather Channel (albeit no radar map, alas). From there we traipsed back to the other side of the Acropolis (up hill, and hot – good times!). It is fun getting semi-lost in the Plaka neighborhood. The good news, since it is August, there are not many cars on the streets, so they were semi-pedestrian alleyways.
The girls weren’t as struck by the idea that wandering in generally the right direction is fun. I’ve always had a good sense of direction (except in Vegas – can’t figure that city’s layout out), and eventually we got where we were going – the New Acropolis Museum (another good name for a rock band). Built by the Greeks as a way to get the Elgin Marbles returned by the Brits, it’s a VERY impressive museum that is free for the kids, and only one Euro per adult.The Museum is well worth the price of admission. Beautiful pottery, sculptures, and other art recovered from the Acropolis grounds.
The Brits have so far declined to return the stuff they took from the Acropolis and now have in the British Museum. The Brits wouldn’t do it because they claimed the treasures would be damaged. So, the new museum was constructed – start of the art, and just opened this June.Now, the Greeks have space for those treasures, with plaster casts and signs indicating that the originals are at the British Museum. Except the signs say "BM", which I wonder if it is a scatological reference shot from the Greeks for the Brits.
Sorry Brits, even though I’m an Anglophile, your time with those treasures is running short – time to give them back.After an hour (which isn’t enough time, but the Iron Tourist knew the Iron Tourist fam was hungry, plus a time sched), we bid adieu to the Museum (see the Acropolis first, before the heat of the day, then hit the air conditioned museum). We headed in the general direction of the restaurants of Plaka.
We were hoping to find a restaurant named Psaras, which our friends Lisa Guide and John Passacantando recommended to us.Note to Athens tourist bureau – one map just of Plaka would be a Zeus-send. We wandered around, and then I said – well, either it is up this street (actually stairs carved into the hill) or we’ll just go somewhere else. I was right – it was Psaras restaurant.We ate outside – very pretty setting, with purple flowers streaming everywhere. The food, when it eventually got to us, was good.
They didn’t have sardines as Lisa promised, but I had lamb in a ceramic pot, and tried Alfa beer (Mythos beer yesterday). Two types of Greek beer tried, although the best selling beers appear to be Heineken and Amstel Light.The problem was that it took more than half hour to get our food. Big groups who got there after us were served before us. I think the service is impressive (not like Italy), but there was a clear breakdown in the kitchen on our food. As an apology, after lunch, they gave us a free plate of watermelon and honeydew melon. Note to businesses – when you screw up, acknowledging it with some tangible apology goes a LONG way. So, I did appreciate their apology. I’d still recommend the restaurant.
A note on technical difficulties
These posts look ragged because I have outsmart the blog site (hard for me to do).
I write it on my laptop on wordPerfect. But, blogger.com won't let me paste for some reason.
So I am cutting and pasting into email, sending to myself, and then copÝing on my blackberry.
I sign in on blogger on bberry, and then paste it in. Can't really edit it, but I won't let the MAN stip me from spreading the word!
More posts soon.
I write it on my laptop on wordPerfect. But, blogger.com won't let me paste for some reason.
So I am cutting and pasting into email, sending to myself, and then copÝing on my blackberry.
I sign in on blogger on bberry, and then paste it in. Can't really edit it, but I won't let the MAN stip me from spreading the word!
More posts soon.
In an Athens minute Riffs on Greece so far....
We could write a book – Athens in 24 hours or less. During that time, we hit nearly all the highlights of ancient Athens, ate well, and got a decent night’s sleep. Iron tourism at its best.
Because we were there in August, there was none of the feel of Rome, where you take your life into your hands crossing any street, because Smart Cars, Vespas, or motorcycles might come out no where and kill. Here, we walked in the street until forced to step aside for the occasional droning scooter or racing taxi. Amateur work – but only because of the time of year.
Virtually eveyone speaks English, and many of the signs are in Greek and English. The bad news is, I only know one language. The good news is, it appears the be language that everyone else knows too. Maybe it’s having three blonde daughters and a blonde wife, but people immediately start speaking English to me. I hope they do the same to the French tourists. That thought makes me happy.
Yesterday, at a place called "Smileys" right next to our hotel, we were getting a drink (and ice cream for the girls) when a leggy, tall model-esque woman came up. The store owner lost interest in talking to us and was very attentive to her (to be fair to him, I might have made the same choice had my wonderful wife and lovely children not been sitting there). After she left, the owner told us she is a famous Greek model who stops by often and lives in the ‘hood. So, that’s the kind of Athenians we were hanging out with. (She thought about approaching me for my phone number, but being happily married, I waved her off.) You know, hanging out with her, if we’d actually talked and all.
Maybe because it is August, but the service everywhere was very attentive. I figured I’d have to reprise my Italian sport of tackling the waiter to place an order, and then pile driving him/her to get the check.
The weather was warm, but never the unbearable cauldron that was predicted. The cumulative impact of our long marches did up in sweat, but it wasn’t an automatic, first step discomfort that we feared. We probably covered six miles in the 24 hour span, and never felt completely ragged with sweat.
Am having significant technical difficulties. Am behind getting several posts uploaded, and plus am having problems downloading photos to the site. Such is the posh, posh traveling life.
Because we were there in August, there was none of the feel of Rome, where you take your life into your hands crossing any street, because Smart Cars, Vespas, or motorcycles might come out no where and kill. Here, we walked in the street until forced to step aside for the occasional droning scooter or racing taxi. Amateur work – but only because of the time of year.
Virtually eveyone speaks English, and many of the signs are in Greek and English. The bad news is, I only know one language. The good news is, it appears the be language that everyone else knows too. Maybe it’s having three blonde daughters and a blonde wife, but people immediately start speaking English to me. I hope they do the same to the French tourists. That thought makes me happy.
Yesterday, at a place called "Smileys" right next to our hotel, we were getting a drink (and ice cream for the girls) when a leggy, tall model-esque woman came up. The store owner lost interest in talking to us and was very attentive to her (to be fair to him, I might have made the same choice had my wonderful wife and lovely children not been sitting there). After she left, the owner told us she is a famous Greek model who stops by often and lives in the ‘hood. So, that’s the kind of Athenians we were hanging out with. (She thought about approaching me for my phone number, but being happily married, I waved her off.) You know, hanging out with her, if we’d actually talked and all.
Maybe because it is August, but the service everywhere was very attentive. I figured I’d have to reprise my Italian sport of tackling the waiter to place an order, and then pile driving him/her to get the check.
The weather was warm, but never the unbearable cauldron that was predicted. The cumulative impact of our long marches did up in sweat, but it wasn’t an automatic, first step discomfort that we feared. We probably covered six miles in the 24 hour span, and never felt completely ragged with sweat.
Am having significant technical difficulties. Am behind getting several posts uploaded, and plus am having problems downloading photos to the site. Such is the posh, posh traveling life.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
You Can''t Get There From Here.
Well, we're sitting in our room on the ship -- the Windstar, in case you want to Google it -- waiting to sail for the Island of Milos. It's a very large sailboat (holds roughly 120 passengers), so it is NOT one of the typical cruise ships. I've never wanted to take a cruise, but I think this is the way to see the Greek Islands.
We were originally supposed to go to Mykonos, but the Captain looked at the weather and decided it was too windy and rough. From my quick study, it appears Milos is a beautiful island and not at all a disappointing plan B.
Recapping the day, we had a nice breakfast at the hotel before heading to the Acropolis. The map of Athens covers most of the city, so the area in Plaka (the region we were staying, and where most everything ancient is) has very tiny, unreadable streets and names on the map. So, in general you travel by striking out in the direction you know you need to be, and hopefully finding it.
I know what you are thinking -- Glen, the Acropolis is a big hill in the center of Athens, with the Parthenon, etc. on it. Hard to miss. True -- but it's also hard to know exactly where the entrance is, or, with some of the buildings, if you are truly going in the right direction. Well, we found it with little trouble, and entered.
It's a good hike up to the top, but you pass the Theater of Dionysus on the way up, as well as many other sites. Upon reaching the summit, there are a number of temples to pass through and by -- the Propylaea, the Temple of Nike (and you thought that was in Oregon), the Parthenon, and the Erechtheion (say that five times fast). It's all pretty amazing.
We were up there by 8:45 or so, and glad of it -- because by 10am when we wandered out, the crowds had grown. There was an invasion of French tour groups.
This shouldn't be shocking, but the Acropolis is really cool. It was fun just wandering around the history. Being up on the hill and looking all around Athens -- seeing down to the Aegean Sea, for instance, and we were able to spot our hotel. It's the kind of place where you could (if it was a little cooler) just kinda hang and contemplate for the day. I felt like Socrates -- or at least So-crates (hat tip to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure). It was warm but not stifling hot, and in the shade Athens was comfortable. The breeze on top of the Hill also was cooling, not hot.
While the view is different, and the history is different, it reminded me a bit of Masada. High above anywhere else.
Afterwards, we walked down to the rocky hill where Paul had preached, and then to the Agora.
(Gotta run for the lifesaving drill on the boat -- will post some pictures and some riffs when I can -- possibly tonight or more likely tomorrow.)
We were originally supposed to go to Mykonos, but the Captain looked at the weather and decided it was too windy and rough. From my quick study, it appears Milos is a beautiful island and not at all a disappointing plan B.
Recapping the day, we had a nice breakfast at the hotel before heading to the Acropolis. The map of Athens covers most of the city, so the area in Plaka (the region we were staying, and where most everything ancient is) has very tiny, unreadable streets and names on the map. So, in general you travel by striking out in the direction you know you need to be, and hopefully finding it.
I know what you are thinking -- Glen, the Acropolis is a big hill in the center of Athens, with the Parthenon, etc. on it. Hard to miss. True -- but it's also hard to know exactly where the entrance is, or, with some of the buildings, if you are truly going in the right direction. Well, we found it with little trouble, and entered.
It's a good hike up to the top, but you pass the Theater of Dionysus on the way up, as well as many other sites. Upon reaching the summit, there are a number of temples to pass through and by -- the Propylaea, the Temple of Nike (and you thought that was in Oregon), the Parthenon, and the Erechtheion (say that five times fast). It's all pretty amazing.
We were up there by 8:45 or so, and glad of it -- because by 10am when we wandered out, the crowds had grown. There was an invasion of French tour groups.
This shouldn't be shocking, but the Acropolis is really cool. It was fun just wandering around the history. Being up on the hill and looking all around Athens -- seeing down to the Aegean Sea, for instance, and we were able to spot our hotel. It's the kind of place where you could (if it was a little cooler) just kinda hang and contemplate for the day. I felt like Socrates -- or at least So-crates (hat tip to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure). It was warm but not stifling hot, and in the shade Athens was comfortable. The breeze on top of the Hill also was cooling, not hot.
While the view is different, and the history is different, it reminded me a bit of Masada. High above anywhere else.
Afterwards, we walked down to the rocky hill where Paul had preached, and then to the Agora.
(Gotta run for the lifesaving drill on the boat -- will post some pictures and some riffs when I can -- possibly tonight or more likely tomorrow.)
Friday, August 7, 2009
When In Athens, Do Like the Greeks Do. . .
After we checked into our two rooms at the Electra Palace Hotel (I know, it sounds like an ABBA hit song), it was hard getting everyone moving. The plan was to check out the rooftop swimming pool, and then go get a late, light lunch (a little energy might get the Bolger troops going).
Once I saw the view of the Acropolis from the rooftop pool/restaurant/bar, I made a command decision to rally the troops to lunch there. While it is not exactly the finest in Greek cuisine (Maddy and Torie had spaghetti, Julia a club sandwich, and Carol and I had various salads), the view is pretty spectacular.
Thus refreshed, we headed off to see some of the sights. The goal on the first afternoon when coming to Europe is to always see a couple of cool things and stay moving until dinner. Immediately going to bed is a huge mistake, because then you never quite get right.
So we marched off in the 88 degree heat (although the humidity wasn’t bad) to Hadrian’s Arch, which was built by the Romans in AD 131 to honor emperor Hadrian (of course!) Looking back through it gives another great look at the Acropolis. (It’s almost like they planned it that way! They did? Oh.)
Right next to that is the Temple of Olympian Zeus, which sounds like a great name for a rock band. There are ten or so huge Corinthian columns still standing, of the 104 original columns. Also nearby are the remains of Roman baths, homes, and other nearby buildings. All in all, an impressive area to stroll around, given that the Temple was begun in 515 BC (the stimulus package had passed two years sooner, but they didn’t want to overstimulate the bad economy by actually spending the money during the recession. Although the first ever "cash for clunkers" program led to many new chariots on the road at a time when Greece’s domestic chariot industry was struggling thanks to those cheaper Roman imports.)
We then looped over and visited the Olympic Stadium from the first modern Olympics in 1896 – which was also the sight of the original Olympics in 330 BC. The site is called Panathinaiko Stadium, which proves that they need to sell the name rights to Fed Ex or something we Americans can pronounce. (Let’s hear Brent Musberger say – "You’re looking live at Panathinaiko Stadium for today’s 100 meter race. . ."
We cut through the national gardens to the Greek Parliament building. We watched the Evzones (soldiers) do their fancy routine at 5:30 as a precursor to the changing of the guard at the Greek Tomb of the Unknowns. After a rest for water and some ice cream for the girls, we walked a few more blocks past the hotel to the Panagia Gorgoepikoos, a small Byzantine Church built in the 12th Century. Carol’s tennis skirt allowed her entrance, while those of us in shorts just had to make do with wandering around the outside and getting glimpses inside.
That church is right next to the larger Metropolis Cathedral, which we were all allowed in. The girls were most interested in seeing the bones in the reliquary of the Saint.
After badly needed showers, we headed off to a casual Greek dinner at O Platanos, on a side street in Plaka. My friend Terry Nelson had recommend it, and it was good, inexpensive food in a nice relaxed outdoor setting. So far the service has been amazingly prompt and attentive. Not sure if that’s the Greek style, a sign of a weak economy, or boredom because it is August and crowds are down a bit. Either way, we’ll take it.
The girls each had a bite of my stuff vine leaves. They reacted as though I was ignoring the Geneva Convention on torture. I had a different opinion.
After dinner we walked back through the market streets, and Carol and I went to the rooftop bar for a drink and view of the Acropolis lit up at night. We concurred that of the places we’ve stayed, this hotel has the most impressive view ever. It’s hard to argue with 26 centuries of history from your table at the bar.
It's All Greek To Me
(Phew -- thank goodness I got that headline out of the way early. Now there's no pressure to use it again. To be fair to me, it's not like there are a ton of easy Greek references. I'm not doing a post on Greece's GDP, so I don't have to write the headline, "How Much Does A Grecian Urn?" I will figure some out -- after all, who loves you baby?)
After walking a good mile through the Athens airport to get to the baggage claim, there was no repeat of Italy 2007 and our bags came around to us on the carousel. They were so excited to see us their tails were wagging, they jumped off the belt, and licked us. (When you travel, your luggage is like your dog. Usually there is unconditional love between you and your luggage, but sometimes there is the luggage equivalent of the dog vomiting in the house. Bad luggage! Bad, bad luggage!).
But I digress. The oddest parts of the relatively uneventful (and sleepless) trip was yet to come. We walked through the luggage exit, fully expecting to have to get into a line for one more immigration stamp for our passports, but nope -- it was a maelstrom of families and drivers waiting for their clients and/or loved ones (whoops, order got reversed). The European Union is on the brink of being one big happy family (with the exception of the brooding French, of course), so the immigration line in Germany was enough.
Our travel agent had arranged a driver and a small bus to take us from the airport to the hotel. Turns out it was a small driver and a bus. There were 48 passenger seats (plus a driver seat!) for the five of us (plus the driver). Our carbon footprint upon coming to Greece was the equivalent of Al Gore's mansion for a day. We felt really badly for the planet (just as Gore does every time he takes a private jet somewhere). Political cheap shots aside, it was really weird. I felt like the Partridge Family (well, hopefully none of the girls is auditioning for the part of Danny Bonaduce!).
After a decent length drive from the airport to the Central part of Athens, the bus stopped, and the driver pulled our bags. There was no hotel in sight. I asked, "where's the hotel." He replied -- "go up, turn right, and go down a few blocks." I felt like the wife in one of the later scenes in Goodfellas where DeNiro (notice his first name is unneeded) offers her free dresses and go "just down and in there." She fears getting whacked, so she doesn't go.
We did follow his directions, and after about four blocks we found the hotel. We didn't get whacked (in case you were worried after the last paragraph).
After walking a good mile through the Athens airport to get to the baggage claim, there was no repeat of Italy 2007 and our bags came around to us on the carousel. They were so excited to see us their tails were wagging, they jumped off the belt, and licked us. (When you travel, your luggage is like your dog. Usually there is unconditional love between you and your luggage, but sometimes there is the luggage equivalent of the dog vomiting in the house. Bad luggage! Bad, bad luggage!).
But I digress. The oddest parts of the relatively uneventful (and sleepless) trip was yet to come. We walked through the luggage exit, fully expecting to have to get into a line for one more immigration stamp for our passports, but nope -- it was a maelstrom of families and drivers waiting for their clients and/or loved ones (whoops, order got reversed). The European Union is on the brink of being one big happy family (with the exception of the brooding French, of course), so the immigration line in Germany was enough.
Our travel agent had arranged a driver and a small bus to take us from the airport to the hotel. Turns out it was a small driver and a bus. There were 48 passenger seats (plus a driver seat!) for the five of us (plus the driver). Our carbon footprint upon coming to Greece was the equivalent of Al Gore's mansion for a day. We felt really badly for the planet (just as Gore does every time he takes a private jet somewhere). Political cheap shots aside, it was really weird. I felt like the Partridge Family (well, hopefully none of the girls is auditioning for the part of Danny Bonaduce!).
After a decent length drive from the airport to the Central part of Athens, the bus stopped, and the driver pulled our bags. There was no hotel in sight. I asked, "where's the hotel." He replied -- "go up, turn right, and go down a few blocks." I felt like the wife in one of the later scenes in Goodfellas where DeNiro (notice his first name is unneeded) offers her free dresses and go "just down and in there." She fears getting whacked, so she doesn't go.
We did follow his directions, and after about four blocks we found the hotel. We didn't get whacked (in case you were worried after the last paragraph).
Longing For That Good Old German Efficiency. . .Well, To An Extent!
Bolger family trip 2009 started last night (Thursday) with a slightly delayed flight out of Dulles. Unfortunately, since we were using frequent flier miles, Lufthansa decided to show us by placing us on what has to be the oldest plane in their fleet. But, hey, at least there was no leg room.
We made it to Frankfurt on time. Oddly, the Ambien that both Carol and I took had zero impact. In fact, it sort of worked as an upper. I think we’ll take two each tonight – and make mine a beer chaser. Carol didn’t sleep at all, the kids slept a little, and I got two blocks of nearly an hour of sleep before my next door neighbor poked me awake for a stroll and a trip to the restroom.
The surprising part of getting off the flight in Frankfurt (yes, Germany – where they do things right, even if they don’t always do the right thing) is that you have to walk upwards of one half mile until you come to an electric sign board listing flights, times, and gates. The other inefficient part is that you turn left to get to gates A1-A14, right to get to gates A15-26, and left to gates A27-A40. Failure to number sequential makes it harder to be sure you are going the right direction – either in the Frankfurt Airport OR on the Russian front.
We found the gate through good old American perseverance and pluck (okay, so maybe I’m overdramatizing it!). Shockingly, when it came time to line up, there was no orderly queue as in England or even American airports. Instead, it was a mob scene (the DNC immediately issued a press release claiming the mob scene was a bunch of extremist who were paid by lobbyists). If Lufthansa can’t even get people to line up for a flight, what hope do we have for the rest of the world? Fortunately, we did sleep most of the way between Frankfurt and Athens. Hot dog!
We made it to Frankfurt on time. Oddly, the Ambien that both Carol and I took had zero impact. In fact, it sort of worked as an upper. I think we’ll take two each tonight – and make mine a beer chaser. Carol didn’t sleep at all, the kids slept a little, and I got two blocks of nearly an hour of sleep before my next door neighbor poked me awake for a stroll and a trip to the restroom.
The surprising part of getting off the flight in Frankfurt (yes, Germany – where they do things right, even if they don’t always do the right thing) is that you have to walk upwards of one half mile until you come to an electric sign board listing flights, times, and gates. The other inefficient part is that you turn left to get to gates A1-A14, right to get to gates A15-26, and left to gates A27-A40. Failure to number sequential makes it harder to be sure you are going the right direction – either in the Frankfurt Airport OR on the Russian front.
We found the gate through good old American perseverance and pluck (okay, so maybe I’m overdramatizing it!). Shockingly, when it came time to line up, there was no orderly queue as in England or even American airports. Instead, it was a mob scene (the DNC immediately issued a press release claiming the mob scene was a bunch of extremist who were paid by lobbyists). If Lufthansa can’t even get people to line up for a flight, what hope do we have for the rest of the world? Fortunately, we did sleep most of the way between Frankfurt and Athens. Hot dog!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Final Posting
I started to title this post as "Final Thoughts," but realized that wouldn't be true. The twelve of us (New Testament imagery is purely coincidental) will think of this trip and what we learned, did, and saw for a long, long time.
The pollster of the group (that would be me, for any slightly confused readers) sent an email (and a chase email) asking each to reply with:
1. Your favorite site to visit.
2. What surprised you the most?
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget.
Here, in no particular order, are the responses I've received. Some folks were more verbose than others:
Maren:
Hey –
I haven’t been ducking your questions; just waiting for a moment when I could be thoughtful and reflective. Five days later I still don’t have time to be thoughtful and reflective, so now I’m just winging it.
1.
Your favorite site to visit: Two places for entirely different reasons. First, the Sea of Galilee, by myself at night. At the sites of ruins you have to use your imagination to envision that place two thousand years ago, but at Galilee I felt that I was seeing exactly what Jesus saw. That connection through time was incredibly powerful. Second, Beit She’an (sp?) because you could stare at those bones, and construct a living breathing city in your mind. Envisioning those markets on the side of the main thoroughfare was relatively easy, and brought home once again how far back the history of this land stretches, particularly compared to America.
What surprised you the most?: Absolutely the Golan Heights: I was looking for stark desert terrain (like Masada) and instead found lush, green rolling hills. I can’t remember a time when my preconceived notion was so off base.
What one thing you learned you'll never forget: I was struck again and again by the juxtaposition of this very young country in this very old land. Israel is just over 60 years old. In our own relatively young history we hadn’t even faced the Civil War. And yet this is a land where, as Ian put it on Day One, the archaeologists bulldoze through the first 200 years of a dig, because there’s nothing interesting there. Israel, a country that hasn’t written its own constitution, holds the sites where Jesus delivered the Beatitudes and Mohammed ascended – it is so new and so ancient all at once.
Also, I’ll never forget Mount Tabor.
There. I told Martha that I feel a little bit like a focus group respondent, and am sort of expecting a stipend (Editor's Note -- checks are in the mail.)
Chip:
1. church of the holy sepulchre...
2. the resolve of the Israeli people
3. see #2
Tom K.:
being a person of few words here are your answers:
site of the beatitudes
lack of military in every day life and the golan heights....the bees the bees
Maura:
1. Your favorite site to visit.I think I have to say the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was my favorite. It was overwhelming to me to be in a place that encompassed so much history and so much religious significance. An awful lot of stuff happened right there.
2. What surprised you the most? Two things: I was constantly surprised by the beauty of the country. I expected it to be much more barren and rocky. Rolling hills and brilliant greens in the north; the Mediterranean beaches in Tel Aviv; the stark beauty of the desert and the Dead Sea in the south ... It’s a much prettier country than I had imagined. And even though I obviously knew it was a small country, seeing how close together everything is really hammered home why it is that so many of these conflicts have become so intractable. When the Jewish holy sites and the Muslim holy sites are right on top of each other, and a Jewish settlement is right next to an Israeli Arab neighborhood and right across from a Palestinian town, it’s easy to see why tensions run so high.
3. What one thing you learned that you’ll never forget. Geography is a powerful determinative force. Also, a hangover in Israel feels just like a hangover in the US. I’ve tested this theory in some other countries also, and it holds true pretty much everywhere.
Ed:
1. Your favorite site to visit. Tough, tie between the church of the holy sepucur and the sea of Galilee. The church caught me off-guard, I expected something much more grand, it made it real. And, just the idea of being at the sea and how much had happened there was real moving, as a I put my stuff away I ended up walking straight down to the coast.(and of course did so in a different state of mind much later in the evening)
2. What surprised you the most? the land and the tightness of the country. No matter where we go, we saw another country who Israel had fought a recent war with.
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget. Coming into the old city Sunday night and looking at both the western wall and then right behind it the dome of the rock. Very clear to see the problems this small space of Old Jerusalem can cause
Rob:
Upon reflection…..
The Old City…but it’s a close call with Galilee
The Australian-Palestinian. Who knew?
That the First World abuts the Third World in the West Bank
Leigh:
Here are my answers. Just off the top of my head…
Massada and the WB settlement of Alfei Menashe (with Miri Eisen)
That I need not eat one Falafel!
Israel’s proximity to other nations in the region.
Thanks, for putting this together! Hope you are well!!
Jim:
Favorite Site to Visit – The Old City in Jerusalem where all three major religions intersect.
Surprised the Most—Bet She’an – I didn’t know it existed. A Greco/Roman city preserved in Israel. What will they do next?
Learned and Never Forget -- For Israelis politics is -- SECURITY, SECURITY, SECURITY
Caryn:
1. Your favorite site to visit.
I would say it all came together for me in the West Bank settlement of Alfei Menashe. Miri Eisin’s discussion and geography linked the problems and the necessity of the two state solution.
2. What surprised you the most?
While I know security was everywhere in the Old City and all over the country, I was surprised not to see more soldiers in uniform. I expected more of a military state.
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget.
I think the pure terror I felt when the bees went over our heads. In all seriousness, I will never forget what a love of country I felt from everyone we came across. I finally get the pro-Israel community and why they work so hard to keep a strong US- Israel relationship. I will also never forget the group I traveled with. I’ve been on the other side of so many races with each you, primaries and general elections yet I feel a special bond with each of you.
Martha:
1. Knesset was favorite site to visit. I am a municipal tourist. A “vacation” that includes hearing from four members of parliament directly is my kind of fun. The seats organized in the shape of a menorah was an added bonus.
2. I was surprised that the settlement we visited looked like a typical American suburb. There’s no way out of this question without the obvious comment about how tiny the country is – but I actually found that the middle class neighborhood feel of the settlement was contrary to what I had imagined – regardless of how close it is to the Gaza Strip. (Close second – the Greek Orthodox influence in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher was a surprise to my Catholic expectations)
3. I learned there are Ethiopian Jews and I will never forget that.
Aaron:
1) Church of the Holy Sepulcher
2) Over 70% of Israel’s population & economy are in the narrow strip between Tel Aviv and Haifa AND that Tom King is a big Oprah fan.
3) The schizophrenic nature of the country. Eminent threats surround everyone in Israel every day. The people are very conscious of those threats, but don’t let the fear of threats dominate their lives.
The pollster of the group (that would be me, for any slightly confused readers) sent an email (and a chase email) asking each to reply with:
1. Your favorite site to visit.
2. What surprised you the most?
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget.
Here, in no particular order, are the responses I've received. Some folks were more verbose than others:
Maren:
Hey –
I haven’t been ducking your questions; just waiting for a moment when I could be thoughtful and reflective. Five days later I still don’t have time to be thoughtful and reflective, so now I’m just winging it.
1.
Your favorite site to visit: Two places for entirely different reasons. First, the Sea of Galilee, by myself at night. At the sites of ruins you have to use your imagination to envision that place two thousand years ago, but at Galilee I felt that I was seeing exactly what Jesus saw. That connection through time was incredibly powerful. Second, Beit She’an (sp?) because you could stare at those bones, and construct a living breathing city in your mind. Envisioning those markets on the side of the main thoroughfare was relatively easy, and brought home once again how far back the history of this land stretches, particularly compared to America.
What surprised you the most?: Absolutely the Golan Heights: I was looking for stark desert terrain (like Masada) and instead found lush, green rolling hills. I can’t remember a time when my preconceived notion was so off base.
What one thing you learned you'll never forget: I was struck again and again by the juxtaposition of this very young country in this very old land. Israel is just over 60 years old. In our own relatively young history we hadn’t even faced the Civil War. And yet this is a land where, as Ian put it on Day One, the archaeologists bulldoze through the first 200 years of a dig, because there’s nothing interesting there. Israel, a country that hasn’t written its own constitution, holds the sites where Jesus delivered the Beatitudes and Mohammed ascended – it is so new and so ancient all at once.
Also, I’ll never forget Mount Tabor.
There. I told Martha that I feel a little bit like a focus group respondent, and am sort of expecting a stipend (Editor's Note -- checks are in the mail.)
Chip:
1. church of the holy sepulchre...
2. the resolve of the Israeli people
3. see #2
Tom K.:
being a person of few words here are your answers:
site of the beatitudes
lack of military in every day life and the golan heights....the bees the bees
Maura:
1. Your favorite site to visit.I think I have to say the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was my favorite. It was overwhelming to me to be in a place that encompassed so much history and so much religious significance. An awful lot of stuff happened right there.
2. What surprised you the most? Two things: I was constantly surprised by the beauty of the country. I expected it to be much more barren and rocky. Rolling hills and brilliant greens in the north; the Mediterranean beaches in Tel Aviv; the stark beauty of the desert and the Dead Sea in the south ... It’s a much prettier country than I had imagined. And even though I obviously knew it was a small country, seeing how close together everything is really hammered home why it is that so many of these conflicts have become so intractable. When the Jewish holy sites and the Muslim holy sites are right on top of each other, and a Jewish settlement is right next to an Israeli Arab neighborhood and right across from a Palestinian town, it’s easy to see why tensions run so high.
3. What one thing you learned that you’ll never forget. Geography is a powerful determinative force. Also, a hangover in Israel feels just like a hangover in the US. I’ve tested this theory in some other countries also, and it holds true pretty much everywhere.
Ed:
1. Your favorite site to visit. Tough, tie between the church of the holy sepucur and the sea of Galilee. The church caught me off-guard, I expected something much more grand, it made it real. And, just the idea of being at the sea and how much had happened there was real moving, as a I put my stuff away I ended up walking straight down to the coast.(and of course did so in a different state of mind much later in the evening)
2. What surprised you the most? the land and the tightness of the country. No matter where we go, we saw another country who Israel had fought a recent war with.
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget. Coming into the old city Sunday night and looking at both the western wall and then right behind it the dome of the rock. Very clear to see the problems this small space of Old Jerusalem can cause
Rob:
Upon reflection…..
The Old City…but it’s a close call with Galilee
The Australian-Palestinian. Who knew?
That the First World abuts the Third World in the West Bank
Leigh:
Here are my answers. Just off the top of my head…
Massada and the WB settlement of Alfei Menashe (with Miri Eisen)
That I need not eat one Falafel!
Israel’s proximity to other nations in the region.
Thanks, for putting this together! Hope you are well!!
Jim:
Favorite Site to Visit – The Old City in Jerusalem where all three major religions intersect.
Surprised the Most—Bet She’an – I didn’t know it existed. A Greco/Roman city preserved in Israel. What will they do next?
Learned and Never Forget -- For Israelis politics is -- SECURITY, SECURITY, SECURITY
Caryn:
1. Your favorite site to visit.
I would say it all came together for me in the West Bank settlement of Alfei Menashe. Miri Eisin’s discussion and geography linked the problems and the necessity of the two state solution.
2. What surprised you the most?
While I know security was everywhere in the Old City and all over the country, I was surprised not to see more soldiers in uniform. I expected more of a military state.
3. What one thing you learned you'll never forget.
I think the pure terror I felt when the bees went over our heads. In all seriousness, I will never forget what a love of country I felt from everyone we came across. I finally get the pro-Israel community and why they work so hard to keep a strong US- Israel relationship. I will also never forget the group I traveled with. I’ve been on the other side of so many races with each you, primaries and general elections yet I feel a special bond with each of you.
Martha:
1. Knesset was favorite site to visit. I am a municipal tourist. A “vacation” that includes hearing from four members of parliament directly is my kind of fun. The seats organized in the shape of a menorah was an added bonus.
2. I was surprised that the settlement we visited looked like a typical American suburb. There’s no way out of this question without the obvious comment about how tiny the country is – but I actually found that the middle class neighborhood feel of the settlement was contrary to what I had imagined – regardless of how close it is to the Gaza Strip. (Close second – the Greek Orthodox influence in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher was a surprise to my Catholic expectations)
3. I learned there are Ethiopian Jews and I will never forget that.
Aaron:
1) Church of the Holy Sepulcher
2) Over 70% of Israel’s population & economy are in the narrow strip between Tel Aviv and Haifa AND that Tom King is a big Oprah fan.
3) The schizophrenic nature of the country. Eminent threats surround everyone in Israel every day. The people are very conscious of those threats, but don’t let the fear of threats dominate their lives.
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