Greece Tour - Days 1-4

  Hey gang. First, I did end up getting a t-shirt. In Greece. Box checked. That takes care of unfinished business. Now, on to current affairs.

  Penny and George, our homeowners in Cyprus, arrived home on schedule so we could get out of town on Monday. They dropped us at the Paphos airport so we could pick up a rental car to drive to Larnaca, where our return flight to Athens awaited us. Except, not so fast. When I showed up at the Sixt Rental Car desk and presented my license and credit card, as I have probably done a hundred times around the world, I was told I didn't qualify to rent one of their shiny cars. "Why?", you might ask, as did I. Did they uncover some previous traffic infraction? Had I been convicted of drunk driving in absentia? Was I a sleepwalking axe murderer? As it turns out, none of the above.

  When I asked for an explanation I was told I hadn't been driving long enough to satisfy their insurance company. Really. Let's see. I got my license in 1974. That makes fifty years of driving. Not enough? Strange. You see, the problem was that I had renewed my license in 2023 and Ontario driving licenses don't show how long you've been licensed. As far as the nice lady was concerned, I'd only been driving for one year. She asked if I had the old license. Sure. I always carry all my expired licenses as well as health cards, old license plates from every car I've owned as well as all my bank statements since I was twelve. She couldn't let me rent a car without proof I'd been driving at least three years.

  "But wait!", I said, "Your Larnaca airport desk rented me the car I used to get to Paphos a month ago." I showed her the emailed contract. I politely asked her to call her manager to straighten this out. She did as requested and, after a lot of "Yes" and "Uh huh" and "of course" she hung up and said, "No". I was flabbergasted. I explained I'd rented from Sixt in Larnaca and Johannesberg and Cape Town and Mauritius. All those other people said I was a qualified driver. "No." I asked her to call the Larnaca airport Sixt manager and she said the person she just spoke to was the very same. "Why did they rent to me a month ago?", I said, getting very irritated. "Please sir, there's no reason to get agitated", was the response. "So", I said, "you're prepared to let me walk away and rent from someone else?" Like a good rental car Nazi she responded, "I'm just following orders". Idiot. The guys next door were happy to rent me a car.

  Tucked away in our non-Sixt rental car we headed down the motorway to Larnaca, stopping briefly in Limassol to check out this building we saw from the highway. It looked more spectacular from there but, since we drove all the way down there to get this picture, it's going in the damn blog!

  We eventually got to Larnaca and, after a forty-five minute delay, found ourselves winging our way to Athens for new adventures. "Now", you might ask, "did you get a rental car in Athens?" Damn right I did. I even decided to risk having another rental clerk discover I had no evidence of the other forty-nine years driving experience, asking if it was a rule at Budget. He looked at me like I had two heads. "Sir", he said, rather uncomfortably, "you look like you've been driving much longer than three years." I'm not sure if it was a compliment or an insult but I smiled and thanked him for his common sense. I didn't care if he thought I was ancient. He was giving me a car! And so our Greek adventure began.

  We spent the night at a wonderful little place at Cape Suniou, which is the southernmost tip of the Attica peninsula where Athens is located. It is not what Phil Collins was wailing about in  that horrid song from the 90's. The hotel posted this tidbit in the dining room:

  That Alexander The Great was great! Cape Sounio is where the ancients built the Temple of Poseidon and it wasn't hard to find. After driving for ten minutes there, on top of a hill overlooking the Mediterranean, was the Temple.

  Now, after a month in Cyprus looking at ruins upon ruins, this was a sight for sore eyes: intact pillars, roof beams, foundations... and marble! It was like they built it to last, unlike those pikers chasing after Aphrodite, the slut, in Cyprus. Aphrodite was here. Aphrodite was there. She was everywhere, with any guy who'd have her. Poseidon, on the other hand, got a temple on a hill projecting power out into the Med. With marble. What a guy.

  This place was like a cool drink of water after days in the desert. We drank it up, climbing all over the hill to see everything it offered. We noticed how the pillar construction was different than those we saw at the Acropolis in Athens. The sections were smaller and the flutes carved into them were a bit cruder - obviously older than what we saw in the big city. Maybe, being located in a more remote location they had less skilled craftsmen or less labour. Or maybe this was a precursor to the Athenian temples. Since we're not archaeologists we'll have to speculate... or ask the Google. Some other time. It was impressive nonetheless.

  While wandering around the site I found this inscription on a foundation stone:

  I ran the image through Google Translate and it came back with "Mortanist". No idea. If there's any ancient Greek scholars out there I'd love to know what that means.

  After a couple of hours we'd seen all there was to see so we headed off to the Peloponnese. This is the peninsula where the Myceneans lived three millennia ago when Homer wrote about them in the Iliad and the Odyssey. This is where the Spartans came from. This is where the first Olympics happened. Now this is history. This is Poseidon.

Penny took a picture of his butt but he's a god so I won't humiliate him by publishing it here.

  Our first stop was the Corinth Canal. For two thousand years, going back to Alexander The Great, Greeks tried to dig a canal linking the Saronic Gulf on the Med with the Gulf of Corinth and the Ionian Sea, cutting three hundred miles off the trip. It wasn't until the late nineteenth century, after the success of the Suez Canal, that the technology existed to actually complete the project, thus turning the Peloponnese from a peninsula into an island. Anyway, the canal itself is not particularly interesting, as canals go, but it does have a submersible bridge at each end. Yes, you heard me. Submersible. When ships are in the canal the bridges are lowered to the bottom, approximately eleven metres below the surface, and are raised after they pass. Sometimes they catch fish on the way back up so the bridge operators get free dinner. Cool.

  We stopped for lunch at a taverna overlooking one of the bridges, hoping to see it go into action as something on the order of eleven thousand ships a year use the canal. After an hour, nothing. Time for the Google, only to find out that the canal was undergoing repair work and would not re-open until the end of February. It's March, but only barely, so we cut them some slack, finished our lunch and headed off for Napflio, where we would spend the night. Along the way Penny spotted this, in a junkyard filled with old Volkswagens.

  Maybe it was for sale, I don't know. "Used only once. Great for carrying all the little Trojans. Low mileage." Although "Trojans" has a different meaning now, I guess.

  Now, we had no idea what to expect regarding Napflio. We knew it was situated on the Argolic Gulf so there would be a waterfront, but that was it. What a pleasant surprise this place was. A vibrant town centre teeming with shops, restaurants, a square with open air cafes, museums, ruins, castles. It had it all. Win. We stayed in a very classic bed and breakfast in the old town, inaccessible by car, although I tried. I ran out of navigable road about a hundred feet from the entrance and ended up reversing three blocks to get out of there as the alley was only slightly wider than our car. I did get my workout though, hauling baggage up the million steps to the hotel. Who needs the gym when you've got a million steps and luggage? We settled in then headed out for a bite at a waterfront cafe at sunset.

  That island out in the gulf is another Frankish fort. We've covered this before so no "frank" jokes, please. Also, it's not on fire. That's a reflection of the heater beside our table. Just so you know.

  The next morning after a wonderful breakfast we headed out to Mycenae to check out the place where Agamemnon, Perseus and the guys hung out back in the day. Again, impressive.

  

  The large blocks of the Lion gate make up what is known as the Cyclopean Wall. The legend claims the Cyclops helped build the wall (yo, read Homer). I think it's yet another example of extra-terrestrials dropping in and giving us a helping hand. Draw your own conclusions. The scale of the place was impressive with a terrific defensive position established on a hilltop with views all the way to the sea.

  With Mycenae behind us we returned to Napflio to check out the top of the town's mountain and the local castle ruins.

  And then it was off for points west and north as we completed our circumnavigation of the Peloponnese. We headed down to Kalamata for lunch but didn't get any olives. We did see lots of olive trees though:

  We also encountered the first in a series of comical faces on town streets around Greece. More on this later.

  We ended up in another of a series of tavernas catering to tourists. This time it was burgers. Kalamata itself didn't seem to be anything to write home about, so I won't. We continued to the west coast and stayed in a rundown beach community where we scared up a club sandwich for dinner. Sigh.

  That brings us to today. An hour from the down at the heels beach club lay the ruins of ancient Olympia. What an unbelievable cache of cultural history all assembled within a few acres. In this space the Greeks launched the first Olympics. They built temples to Zeus and Hera. They enshrined the principles of fair play. It attracted all the biggest names of the time, Phillip II (Alexander's father), Ptolemy II of Egypt, Nero of fiddling fame. It was like a giant Grauman's Chinese Theater. You know. Where all the Hollywood stars stick their hands in wet cement. Well, maybe it was better than that, but you get the picture. It attracted a veritable who's who of the ancient world.

  We started at the gymnasium where the athletes practiced before competitions.

  Try to imagine it with walls and a roof. It's about a hundred metres long with columns down both sides. There. Now you've got it. From there we explored the temple where the priests conducted sacrifices before the games.

  Beside this building was the studio where Phidias sculpted the giant statue of Zeus that would stand in the temple bearing his name. Note the construction of the walls of his studio:

  Quite stylish for 435 BC! Anyway, we sauntered over to the Temple of Zeus to see where the statue sat.

  Yes. Right there in the middle. Well, if it still existed that's where it would be. The same statue of Zeus that's one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. The only wonder still in existence is the Great Pyramid of Giza but we were right next to where Zeus' statue sat... if it still existed.

  Oh, almost forgot. Lego.

  Then we wandered over to the Stadium. In front of it was a pillar atop which sat the original Winged Victory statue.

  The athletes entered through this arch.

  Forty-five thousand spectators would side on the grassy hillsides surrounding the running track to watch the events.

  Before the games began all the athletes and judges swore an oath of honesty and fair play, promising to give their greatest effort in the name of sportsmanship. It was very similar to the oath modern Olympians swear today. If any of the competitors was caught cheating they were fined, with the money going towards a small statue of Zeus. Underneath each of these statues was the cheater's name and a description of his dastardly deeds.

  There are sixteen of these "Zones" (plural of "Zeus") but only the bases remain. From there it was on to the Temple of Hera. You might recognize it since this is where they light the Olympic Flame which has then been carried by hand to every modern Olympics site since 1936.

  Fun fact. When I said "carried by hand" I wasn't exaggerating. A relay is run from Olympia to each Olympic site. When they have to cross an ocean the flame is kept in a secure lamp on board the airplane so that it is never extinguished during its journey. They'll be doing it again April 16 for the Paris Summer Olympics.

  Finally, we stopped at the Phillippeion, a structure dedicated to Phillip II, Alexander The Great's father.

  It was a round, pillared structure which contained statues of Phillip, Alexander, and the rest of Phillip's family. It's the only structure at Olympia dedicated to humans.

  With that we were done. So much history and culture wrapped up in one small place. It seemed like all our modern society's mores and principles were defined in this place over three thousand years ago. It was both exciting and humbling and an experience we'll always carry with us.

  Now then, back to the big face in Kalamata. The Greeks are very religious and Easter is the most special of holidays. Carnival starts ten weeks before Easter and lasts until Clean Monday, the first day of Lent. Eleven days before the end the country shuts down for Meat Thursday. All the tavernas bring their grills out to the street and cook meat all day. The smell of barbecued pork is everywhere and people dress up similarly to Mardi Gras. Big carnival statues pop up on street corners everywhere.

  It's quite a show and we saw it first hand in the town of Patras as we were looking for lunch. An unsatisfying lunch, again, but the town was certainly having a good time.

  The rest of our day was spent driving to Delphi where we'll be checking out where the Oracle of Delphi hung out twenty-five hundred years ago. To get there we first had to cross the Gulf of Corinth from Patras using this sparkling new bridge.

  And a great bridge it was. It had a great toll too, which might explain why we were the only people using it. After we crossed we had to pay fifteen Euros. Highway robbery. Well. Bridge robbery. Anyway, it was faster than driving around the Gulf for eight hours.

  With that out of the way we wound our way up the mountains. Really. Here's what my Google Maps screen looked like:

  We finally arrived at Delphi where we're staying in a wonderful inn on a mountainside, overlooking the Gulf and surrounding hills.

  Oh. And we had a terrific dinner which didn't include chips and salad, pizza, burgers, club sandwiches or any other such crap. We had farm to table classic Greek food and it was worth the drive.

  Wow. That was a lot to cover. I would have published last night but the crappy joint we stayed in had spotty Internet so I couldn't connect long enough to do anything. Apologies for the long read but I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we did doing it.