Hephaestus is in Town
Our second stop on the cruise was Athens--we'd be there for two days, so when we were planning the trip, it seemed to make sense to book a tour of the Acropolis on day one to anchor our trip. Then, the European heatwave made itself known like Hephaestus bringing all the fire. The forecast said 101 as a high, and in fact, it was so hot the day before we arrived in town that the Acropolis was closed for the entire afternoon.
Luckily, we at least had the sense to book the earliest Acropolis tour we could. Our group was small--just 8 people, and we'd all been together on the Olympia tour as well. (Highly recommend Travel Insiders, a local team we booked these two excursions with.) So, we were through the ticket gate and on our climb up to the Acropolis quickly. One observation about the climb: the entire walkway to and from the Acropolis is made of marble--shiny, slick, no-traction marble, which made for an interesting journey up (and down) the hill, as every few seconds someone would slip a bit--not enough to fall but enough to yelp and curse. I kept waiting to break my already achilles-tendonitised ankle, but somehow made it through with all limbs intact.
Even though it was early, the site was already packed, but our guide, Demetrius, was great about shepherding us through and then letting us wander on our own. He also had a wonderful way of capturing the Greek culture, noting that the incredible unemployment in his country since the great recession was taken fairly well because "Greeks were never workaholics to begin with" and "have a sunny outlook because look at where we live." He was great. The pride of the Greeks in their heritage is omnipresent, and their anger at some of their greatest historical artifacts being stolen away surfaces in their commentary. Demetrius couldn't help but bemoan the absence of the "Elgin" marbles from the Parthenon. As Harper would say, "Fact." One point on which I'd differ with Demetrius: he really leaned into the notion that the Parthenon represented the democratic ideals of Greece because it was built by servants who had a choice and were paid rather than by slaves. Um ... not exactly.
The most impressive thing about the Parthenon is not the motivation behind its construction (which was largely bragging) but that it's still there. Walking around on the top of the Acropolis, even with the thousands of selfie takers (us included), you can feel the history, the age, of the place. It links yesterday with today with tomorrow, and people care enough about that to make a difficult climb to the top of a very, very tall hill, in sweltering temperatures to witness history.
After this selfie, the kids ran off to get all the appropriate Instagram shots, and left to our devices, we explored more leisurely.
The sprawl of modern Athens (4M plus people) -- imagine the view Athenians had of the Acropolis when the city was smaller and filled with far fewer distractions. How otherworldly it must have appeared. Amazing.
The Agora theatre slightly below the Acropolis; it would have been coupled with a hospital because the Greeks saw theatre as cathartic and healing. Insert joke about the price of a Broadway ticket and/or Hamilton here :)
After downing multiple bottles of water in the van, we felt refreshed enough to stop by the site of the first modern Olympics: the Panathenaic Stadium. A very modest venue. No way that Baron Pierre de Coubertin could have predicted what was to come from his neo-classical obsession.
Team Rochester ready for the opening ceremony.
Our tour ended in the Plaka--Athens kind of touristy, kind of lovely old city. We opted out of souvenir shopping and into an air conditioned roof top restaurant with this lovely view of the Acropolis. Some cold drinks and eggplant salad, gyros, and gemista later, we were up for the walk back to the van.
Have I mentioned that Athens is hilly--like, really hilly. After climbing up the Acropolis hill in the morning, we were super excited to find that our route between the metro stop and the night bus was pretty much all uphill. But we did see some fine sights and imagine for a few empty alleyway blocks that we were being followed by criminals, so that was fun. (They turned out to be lost.)
A side bar here to say that every city we've visited is overrun with adorable but clearly very feral kitties. At some point, I'm just going to do an entry of all kitty pictures. In talking with Demetrius earlier in the day, we learned that this is just a Greek thing: they don't think of these cats as strays, they below to the neighborhood.
Another side note, no space in Athens is wasted. On our travels, we climbed long staircases that were public thoroughfares about five people wide with restaurants on each side with seating on the steps we were climbing--and no one thought we were intruding.
Our night bus guide was an enthusiastic history/archaeology grad student who has deep concerns about Greek traditions of the patriarchy, the retro-nostalgia of neo-classicism, and the failure of Greece to acknowledge its debt to slave labor. Kind of atypical. With a clear love of her country and style and a smile, she also roasted the perennially bankrupt Greek economy. Ned and I found her fascinating; the kids, not so much.
Oh, and we got to climb even more slippery marble steps--this time in the twilighty dark--to the top of Filopappos Hill. Yes, more please!
Okay, the climb was worth it.
As our guide pointed out, the Acropolis was literally made to be seen from a distance. All of its apparent straight lines are actually curved so that they would look perfect. The marble was selected because it glowed in the night (and, according to our guide, shouldn't really be lit at all).
Along with the trip to the Acropolis, we zipped by other monuments and--for some reason--our tour guide's neighborhood.
We were greeted appropriately upon our return to the cruise port.
Back on board, Penn needed a pizza, so we took in a bit more of the pool atmosphere.
And, finally, after a kazillion Athenian steps and thousands of years of history, we called it a night.
With a smile from this goldfish (maybe?), we fell into bed, dreaming of gods and goddesses and much cooler weather.
Luckily, we at least had the sense to book the earliest Acropolis tour we could. Our group was small--just 8 people, and we'd all been together on the Olympia tour as well. (Highly recommend Travel Insiders, a local team we booked these two excursions with.) So, we were through the ticket gate and on our climb up to the Acropolis quickly. One observation about the climb: the entire walkway to and from the Acropolis is made of marble--shiny, slick, no-traction marble, which made for an interesting journey up (and down) the hill, as every few seconds someone would slip a bit--not enough to fall but enough to yelp and curse. I kept waiting to break my already achilles-tendonitised ankle, but somehow made it through with all limbs intact.
Even though it was early, the site was already packed, but our guide, Demetrius, was great about shepherding us through and then letting us wander on our own. He also had a wonderful way of capturing the Greek culture, noting that the incredible unemployment in his country since the great recession was taken fairly well because "Greeks were never workaholics to begin with" and "have a sunny outlook because look at where we live." He was great. The pride of the Greeks in their heritage is omnipresent, and their anger at some of their greatest historical artifacts being stolen away surfaces in their commentary. Demetrius couldn't help but bemoan the absence of the "Elgin" marbles from the Parthenon. As Harper would say, "Fact." One point on which I'd differ with Demetrius: he really leaned into the notion that the Parthenon represented the democratic ideals of Greece because it was built by servants who had a choice and were paid rather than by slaves. Um ... not exactly.
The most impressive thing about the Parthenon is not the motivation behind its construction (which was largely bragging) but that it's still there. Walking around on the top of the Acropolis, even with the thousands of selfie takers (us included), you can feel the history, the age, of the place. It links yesterday with today with tomorrow, and people care enough about that to make a difficult climb to the top of a very, very tall hill, in sweltering temperatures to witness history.
After this selfie, the kids ran off to get all the appropriate Instagram shots, and left to our devices, we explored more leisurely.
The sprawl of modern Athens (4M plus people) -- imagine the view Athenians had of the Acropolis when the city was smaller and filled with far fewer distractions. How otherworldly it must have appeared. Amazing.
Each one of those fallen pieces tells centuries of stories. Just wow.
When we started down the hill to meet Demetrius, we got a real sense of the typical summer Acropolis crowds. We just walked up from the ticket booth, slippery though it was, it was a steady climb. Now the line to make that ascent looped round the hill, standing in the midday sun. Thanks, Demetrius!
Our troop of day one Athenians regrouped safely in the shade awaiting our--blessings be to Athena--air conditioned chariot.
After downing multiple bottles of water in the van, we felt refreshed enough to stop by the site of the first modern Olympics: the Panathenaic Stadium. A very modest venue. No way that Baron Pierre de Coubertin could have predicted what was to come from his neo-classical obsession.
Team Rochester ready for the opening ceremony.
Our tour ended in the Plaka--Athens kind of touristy, kind of lovely old city. We opted out of souvenir shopping and into an air conditioned roof top restaurant with this lovely view of the Acropolis. Some cold drinks and eggplant salad, gyros, and gemista later, we were up for the walk back to the van.
Back on board the Koningsdam, we crashed for a bit. So, let me share a few words about our 12 night home. As always, we booked two interior rooms at the cheapest rate because to us, the ship is a floating hotel. The rooms were spacious, well designed with lots of storage, a big tv for night time movie watching, a super comfy bed, a surprisingly roomy shower and bathroom, and amazing air conditioning. In the free dining spaces, food was good with lots of choices. Like most ships, it offered lots of nooks and crannies for tucking away from crowds. It offered more entertainment options than I've experienced on a cruise and a more dramatic pool area, with loungers ensconced in curtained areas with lighting, curved sofas on the pools top deck, and lots of standard loungers and four and two top tables all around. We liked it.
I've mentioned Ned's love of public transportation. So, when Demetrius mentioned that Athens had one of the world's longest running subways (which is largely above ground, whatever), Ned's eyes lit up and we knew how we'd be getting back to town for the City Sights night tour we planned.
Have I mentioned that Athens is hilly--like, really hilly. After climbing up the Acropolis hill in the morning, we were super excited to find that our route between the metro stop and the night bus was pretty much all uphill. But we did see some fine sights and imagine for a few empty alleyway blocks that we were being followed by criminals, so that was fun. (They turned out to be lost.)
A side bar here to say that every city we've visited is overrun with adorable but clearly very feral kitties. At some point, I'm just going to do an entry of all kitty pictures. In talking with Demetrius earlier in the day, we learned that this is just a Greek thing: they don't think of these cats as strays, they below to the neighborhood.
Another side note, no space in Athens is wasted. On our travels, we climbed long staircases that were public thoroughfares about five people wide with restaurants on each side with seating on the steps we were climbing--and no one thought we were intruding.
Finally, we found the statue of Melina Mercouri and the store with the death-defying shutter painter that marked our bus stop.
Our night bus guide was an enthusiastic history/archaeology grad student who has deep concerns about Greek traditions of the patriarchy, the retro-nostalgia of neo-classicism, and the failure of Greece to acknowledge its debt to slave labor. Kind of atypical. With a clear love of her country and style and a smile, she also roasted the perennially bankrupt Greek economy. Ned and I found her fascinating; the kids, not so much.
Oh, and we got to climb even more slippery marble steps--this time in the twilighty dark--to the top of Filopappos Hill. Yes, more please!
Okay, the climb was worth it.
As our guide pointed out, the Acropolis was literally made to be seen from a distance. All of its apparent straight lines are actually curved so that they would look perfect. The marble was selected because it glowed in the night (and, according to our guide, shouldn't really be lit at all).
Along with the trip to the Acropolis, we zipped by other monuments and--for some reason--our tour guide's neighborhood.
We were greeted appropriately upon our return to the cruise port.
Back on board, Penn needed a pizza, so we took in a bit more of the pool atmosphere.
And, finally, after a kazillion Athenian steps and thousands of years of history, we called it a night.
With a smile from this goldfish (maybe?), we fell into bed, dreaming of gods and goddesses and much cooler weather.
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