Virgin To Greece

I arrived in Athens shortly after 2 a.m. local time. We had to get a bus from the plane out to the terminus - which reminded me of Novosibirsk airport. Because I had only hand luggage I was one of the first through the terminus out to the taxi rank. Eventually one the taxi drivers figured out where I wanted to get to and he motioned me down to the front of the rank. He waved me on past his taxi (which was 2nd in the rank) but when I got close to the 1st taxi he called me back; and back again. There must be some protocol about me getting the 1st taxi and so I had to wait until his taxi moved to the lead spot.

On the way into town we had a conversation (very limited) as the taxi swept through the otherwise deserted but broad streets. Most signs seem to be in English - trademarks are always in English. English is very much the 2nd language of Athens. We passed a police car that had stopped a motorist and my taxi driver was complaining about drink drivers. As we passed the old parliament(?) the guards were changing. Looming above Athens, and surrounded by Athens, was a high conical rock - which reminded me of Edinburgh Castle sitting on its rock, but much more impressive.

Stayed the first two nights in Hotel (N)Asty with condescending front desk people and my room was on the 8th floor (well, the 9th really). Magazine pages had been cut out as pictures to adorn the walls and the window was wide open to cool the room, which was fairly warm. I settled down to sleep, setting my alarm clock for a couple of hours later so that I would have lots of time the coming day to explore Athens.

Two hours later I woke up and shut the alarm up, but the roaring traffic resisted my silent wishes for quiet. Several hours later (8ish) I woke up to the sunshine and ventured outside. I went for a wander, thinking that perhaps the conical hill had been the Akropolis and setting off in what I thought was the correct direction.

Athens: belt shops, bag shops, etc. - really a glorified market place. After a few minutes I glanced to the right and saw another hill with ruins on it and I set off through the winding streets towards it. Along the way I passed a few little Byzantine churches that were beautiful. I encountered some Archaeological ruins and watched them for a while but progressed ever up towards what I suspected was the Akropolis, which indeed it was. Already at that early hour there were hundreds of tourists. I bought a historical street map of Athens and an Akropolis guidebook and walked up to the Akropolis itself where I was rewarded with a phenomenal view of Athens - a sea of flats upon flats in every direction as far as the horizon or the hazy mountains.

After sweeping through the Akropolis Museum I set off to find the National Museum and descended the mount to find myself back in the narrow streets - which in my short absense had blossomed into a flourishing tourist trap. I had a cheese thing to eat and half a can of Heineken (although I was willing to experiment with eating Greek foot, most of what I drank was non-Greek; Heineken was little more expensive than coca-cola), the half being spilt thanks to my clumsiness. I found a pair of silver axes to hang from my ears.

I bought three tops as well (2 T-shirts and a thing with a hood) and detoured through my hotel to dump most of the stuff I had been carrying around that morning; and found my way to the National Museum. I stopped to have a cappucino and then walked up to the doors - to discover the museum shut at 3 p.m.! All the tourist things in Greece (with a couple of exceptions) shut at 3 p.m. So I walked off and climbed a couple of hills; at the top of the 2nd hill I had an ice-cream&fruit cocktail.

I decided that the following day I would go off to Vravrona. I spent the evening searching for the bus station (which was right in front of my nose the whole time but a misconception mislaid me). The following morning I went to the bus station and asked about buses and bus tickets (which you must buy in advance) but I got bounced all around the centre of Athens (I learned how to ask `Where is the bus to Vravrona?' in Greek) until finding a bus around lunch time which took me there. I reached Vravrona, the village, about 2 p.m. and walked along the beach to the museum. I looked at the exhibits for half an hour or so. It was too late to see the sanctuary and I was told to return the following day.

So, I had to find a hotel! The Hotel Mare Nostrum in Vravrona didn't want anything to do with me and I was directed to a nearby village called Loutsa where I asked people how to find a hotel. In fact I found one readily but it appeared to be shut so I went in search of another - with no success. Asking locals where a hotel was resulted in vague and, to me, unintelligible answers and at long last, weary and depressed, I returned to the original, shut hotel and walked into the bar above it. While having a cheerful beer I interrogated the barmaid, who spoke no English but when I tried to speak Greek she recruited the aid of a nearby German chappie who was writing something. After a brief 3-way chat the hotel proprietrix was summoned and she spoke a mixture of Greek, English and Italian; but I got a room for the night (at a price that turned out later to be somewhat extortionate), and was to stay the following night there as well.

That evening I had battered whitebait at a fish tavern. The only English they spoke was `Hello! What is your name?' and that by one of the little daughters. We spoke sign language. I nearly had octopus but their surprise that I might want such a big meal dissuaded me. Whitebait have so many bones that I had no idea how to eat them and used my fingers as much as my cutlery; I felt very self-conscious as a result. (I have learnt since that they were supposed to be eaten bones and all!)

The following day I went out to the sanctuary where I sat by Ghenya's grave; and looked at Artemis's temple; and climbed the hill behind the sanctuary, imagining how Ghenya would have climbed up there. Very peaceful, were it not for the main road a half kilometre away. I chatted with the lady in charge of the sanctuary, who spoke no English - a very bizarre discussion because I was trying to ask how to pronounce `Iphigeneia' because in modern Greek it would be `ifiyenIa' not `ifigenIa' and I confused her thoroughly. Last night I looked up my Ancient Greek textbook and discovered to my relief that it would be `ifigenIa' as I have assumed all along.

Back in Loutsa I failed to find where to buy bus tickets so I bought some bread and cheese and retired to my hotel room to sit on my balcony thinking about vampires - while it rained all afternoon and galed all night. The following morning I found bus tickets at the 3rd place I had tried the previous day (bizarre) and set off back to Athens: 2hrs of standing up.

My knees were feeling sorely abused by the time we neared the bus station outside the Academy and so I disembarked a couple of stops early. To my delight I discovered a Xeno-bookshop, i.e. one that sold English books. Deliberately I had refrained from taking a book to read while I was in Greece, intending to occupy my time writing impressions of Greece. A noble intent but misguided, as I had discovered. So I bought a book.

My aim at that point was to get a train out to Argos and so I went to the train station. However it turned out that trains left infrequently and I would have to wait several hours; not only that but the journey would last 2 hours, I was told (although in the end it lasted 3 hours) so that it would be very late by the time I reached Argos - and then I would have to seek out a hotel. Not having had the most reassuring experience looking for a hotel in Loutsa I decided to stay in Athens that night and catch the train the following day.

I returned to Hotel (N)Asty but they were full up (coach parties) but the Hotel Aris (which, indeed, referred to the War God Ares) round the corner had a room for me. A single room and the cheapest room I found during my holiday. Swiftly I deposited my stuff and zoomed over to the National Museum where I spent 3hrs in the Mycenaean collection taking notes. That evening I had strawberries and yoghourt for tea.

The following day I caught the train out to Argos. The sun was brilliant and the azure sea beckoned. This was Greece at its finest (oil tankers and dockyards aside). The railway curled along the steep side of a mountain with the main road above and a lesser road below; some very lucky people had houses along the coast. At one point a deep chasm opened up beneath the train and I looked down to a distant canal - this was the Corinth Canal, a truly impressive feat of engineering.

Beyond Corinth the track led through valleys between high mountains, and there were orange trees galore (with the odd lemon tree chucked in for variety). I kept watch for Mikine but although it must have been visible I did not see it. (It is very well camouflaged.)

When the train reached Argos I ignored the taxis and wondered off looking for the town centre. I ended up taking the most direct route possible, one that I was not to find again. I chose the first hotel whose name was also in the guide book - Telesilla. This was a twin room with air conditioning and a TV!

That afternoon I visited the amphitheatre (incredible sensation when you are sitting at the top) and then climbed up to the Frankian fortress. The day was hot and the climb arduous and I was very thirsty by the time I neared the fort; I stole a lemon from a passing tree to quench my thirst. From the fort I had a spectacular view of the Argolid and for the very first time I understood what was meant by the Argolid plain. It is a large flat area (i.e. plain) surrounded by high peaks. There is no mistaking the meaning.

Originally I had intended to stay in Mikines for a couple of nights and so the following day I went to see about getting a hotel - but the village was still very much out of season and neither of the hotels I tried were open. I decided not to stay there. Instead I walked up to the Citadel and spent a couple of hours exploring the ruins. Most people go only up to the palace but I went further and explored the more distant reaches. I found an arched staircase leading down into blackness and I explored a short distance until my nerve gave. If I had had a torch I would have followed it to the end. This turned out to be a covered approach to the cistern, protecting the Citadel's water supply.

Waiting for the bus back I started talking to a charming German lady who had been going to Greece for years and she had spent the day looking for some of the unadvertised tombs and had had some success. We talked about holidaying in Greece and about Iphigeneia.

The following day I got up earlier than normal and ventured out into the freezing cold morning. (March mornings in Greece are *too* cold before about 9 a.m.) I caught the bus out to Tiryns where I was the only visitor. The puddles on the ground were frozen and I was huddled inside my jacket. The stones in the walls are massive; it is not surprising that Pausanius was impressed by them.

Then I caught the bus again, to Nafplio where I managed to buy stamps for my postcards and then climbed up the 899 steps to the Venetian triple fortress - an awe-inspiring, sprawling complex that overlooks the gulf. From that clear height Lerna, Tiryns, Argos and Mikine are visible if you know where to look. During the Bronze Age the different sights would have stood out more: there would have been colour during the day (with none of the modern buildings to confuse identification) and lamps burning during the night.

Back down in the village I visited the museum (the museum in Argos was shut, to my disappointment) and then allowed myself to become a tourist as I bought some copper things; not realising at the time just how much I was spending. Also I bought an ice-cream&fruit cocktail. Ice-cream is expensive in Greece. Then I walked up to the other, lower fortress but it turned out to be little more than walls and a disappointment. The sea at Nafplio looked gorgeous but the beaches were stubby, rocky things or made of that hard sand that I found at Vravrona.

Before leaving Nafplio I popped into a Xeno-bookshop and bought another English book since the last one had been read mysteriously on the very day I bought it. Unfortunately the same thing happened again!

The following day I took the bus out to Lerna. Although the site there is not very impressive it is very distinguished as an archaeological site and it was one of the places I had hoped to get to. After looking around I returned to the village. I bought a drink from a bakery and the woman was asking me some question that I couldn't comprehend and couldn't seem to answer to her satisfaction. I think she thought I was mad. If she didn't the chap I passed as I climbed up to a small fortress near the village must certainly have thought so. I think that he thought I wanted something of him and so we muttered foreign phrases at each other. Eventually I just pointed at the fortress and asked `Can I?' in Greek. After that he dismissed me and I walked on past the sewage plant and over the concrete canal (to protect the village from water running from the slopes?). There are advantages to speaking Greek if you don't want to remain in Athens.

It rained all afternoon so I decided against searching for the Mycenaean ruins that were supposed to be up near the fortress in Argos. The following morning it was lovely and sunny and I sat under a tree waiting for the train to arrive. On the train a couple were trying to feed their child bananas and water, but the child was insisting that the water came from the bottle and not the child cup and so a nearby passenger entered into the conspiracy and outwitted the poor child.

That evening I returned to the Xeno-bookstore in Athens and bought a couple (see: I learned) of books. Then I wandered back up to the Akropolis through the tourist trap and nearly got caught by a guy trying to lure me into his cafe with cajoling and flattery. Gracelessly I disentangled myself from his clutches. But I was not so successful further on. A little old lady (excuse the shameless stereotyping) seemed to be asking my aid so that she could fold up a tablecloth: this, I think, turned into a comedy of misunderstanding. I had absolutely no interest in buying the thing but because I had stopped to hold it she must have thought that my refusal to buy it was haggling because the price came down and down. Eventually I bought it for 10 pounds sterling and 1000 drachma (so about 12 quid) and she looked decidedly miffed; very unhappy. `Beautiful tablecloth, handsewn, worth $100 at least, present for your mother, yes?' In which case why was she willing to sell it to me for 12 quid! Oh, well.

The following morning it was raining and everything was shut. Clearly Athens is not the liveliest of places on a Sunday. I found a `Mr Baker' that was open and I bought what turned out the most delectable vanilla slice ever. Then I spent an hour wandering round the National Museum before hopping into a taxi for the airport.