So after getting to Sparta, we turned west and headed toward the caves at Dirou. A strange little place indeed: it felt like a combination of a nice Mediterranean beach, a 1970's-era State Park facility, and the Wisconsin Ducks. You drive to this lot bordered by a covered-porch-area, a glass-windowed store room, and the entrance to the caves. We went down the stairs, put on our lifejackets, and climbed into the boat (along with a couple in the front). Camera flashes announced the start of our very quiet journey through the caves (and illuminated us for pictures from the nearby opposite shore, which the tour operators would unsuccessfully try to sell us at the trip's end).
It was very silent—aside from the occasional knocking against a stalagmite or the random "Take a picture, Harry. C'mon blah blah" from Mom or Dad. I enjoyed the silence—very peaceful. You'd hear water dripping and those stereotypical cave noises. I decided that the visitors-traveling-in-a-boat-in-a-cave-which-collapses-after-an-earthquake-and-they-must-escape-à-la-The-Poseidon-Adventure would make for a good movie. And as a plus, the lights flickered throughout the cave; all the cabling was in the water, prompting me to ponder about the electrical codes for caves in fairly rural Greece. We exited and I enjoyed a sit with Greg while the others went down to the beach for a few minutes.
For lunch we drove into Sygrou*, bypassing the many restaurateurs that were eyeing us (and our cash) up hungrily, and pulled over near this seaside café, which seemed quite comfortable and pressure-free. It was about 3:30, so some of us wanted something substantial, so we first walked to a fast food joint (with fruit in the window that wasn't for sale). I didn't get anything, but Grego and Teeps did, so we got that, walked past the neighboring authorized Bosch dealership, and back to the little café. I got a Fanta (no gas, in a bottle) and a Tiramisu ice cream (note: do not get it again). We lazed there until at least 4 PM (as they asked us to pay then, when our waiter went off duty), and then piled into the car, satiated but ready for a yummy time in Monemvasia.
Then we left and drove east through Sparta en route to Monemvasia, and after quite a long discussion we decided, hey, why not see Papou's parents' home town of Agios Nikolaos. So we turned off the main road and found a neat old-style metal sign pointing us in the direction of Agios Nikolaos—and the road was even paved! We pulled in, got out, and took a few pictures. A guy asked us what we were doing, but knew nothing of our family, as he only moved there a few years ago. He pointed us down the road to a shortcut back to the main highway. We got in the car and went on our way.
That is, until I said to turn right instead of left. A fortuitous mistake—the man we stopped to ask for directions turned out to be some sort of relative (we discovered this after Mom felt the need to explain ourselves). He talked about his relationship to us, how practically everyone that was related to us had left the village, and the like. We chatted a bit, snapped a few photos, and then took off down the brand-new road (one lane, nicely paved at points), to Monemvasia.
The rest of the drive was relatively short, and we pulled up to a no parking zone and promptly parked, just as everyone else had. Monemvasia is a small medieval town whose only relevance today is as a tourist destination peddling the same wares as most every other tourist boutique in the world. However, we did find a very nice little restaurant overlooking the sea where I had meager (but tasty!) lamb chops with fries (every entrée in Greece seems to come with fries).
At the dinner table I had been talking about Greg's adventures against the Sorceress of Bitchitude (Theresa) with his +2 sword of tastiness (the butter knife) and the like. Recalling an item he had obtained earlier in the day in Golden Sun: Reign of the Three Emperors, Greg held the bread basket over his head, and said "Greg got the Large Bread" as I did the "get-something-in-Golden-Sun:-Blade-of-Heroes" music. We all got a good laugh out of this, except for the six cats in my field of view (one of whom was eyeing the remains of Theresa's fish).
We left Monemvasia before the sunset, and drove a quite nice drive back into Sparta. Sparta is a town in which living a normal life seems plausible—like most Greek towns, it has a pretty active nightlife, but it also has fast food places, supermarkets, and other amenities that seemed lacking in other medium-sized cities. We found the Hotel Menelaus and went inside after finding a place to park. It looked quite nice and indeed was—the best hotel, in my opinion, of the trip thus far. The rooms weren't spacious, but they were comfortable, and, very importantly, the bathrooms were nice. Mom and Dad went into town (stopping at an Internet Café), while us kids washed up and went to bed.
*Editor's note: I have not been able to figure out where this actually was.
Monday, July 14, 2003
14 July 2003 – 12:56 PM GMT+2
So we wake up in Nafplion and Mom is pissed. Apparently at about midnight they turned off the A/C, which really pissed Mom off. She called down and they said that someone complained that the place was too cold, so they shut the A/C off. Mom thinks this was a blatant lie, and they said they'd turn it on. They did for a few minutes. So Mom, as I said, was quite pissed.
We got up, ate breakfast, and drove from Nafplion through Tripoli to Silimna to Evan's aunt's place. They were kind of surprised and perplexed by the green car coming up their driveway—they thought at first that Dad was one of their friends, then they realized it wasn't and thought we were lost, then saw Mom and saw the resemblance to Helen and realized knew who we were. They welcomed us in, gave us water and some sweet cherries that apparently Evan had a hand in picking, and implored us to sit. They showed us some pictures (and drawings that Bone and company did during their stay), and we showed them some. Their house was extremely nice—I enjoyed their (most likely) locally-made windows, the wonderfully furnished interior, and the well-maintained exterior. Quite a nice place to live. Evan's birthplace, across the "driveway", was crumbling, but intact, on the whole. A thoroughly worthwhile detour.
We left them and head back to Tripoli, but took a wrong turn and got to drive through the Tripolitean market. Fruit galore! Plus, there was a Yiayia wearing a Duke hat, which pleased Theresa quite a bit. The drive from Tripoli to Sparta was a decently curved somewhat smallish road, much like many of the roads in Greece so far. The drive was uneventful. Now I shall interrupt this tale for a lunch at Goody's.
We got up, ate breakfast, and drove from Nafplion through Tripoli to Silimna to Evan's aunt's place. They were kind of surprised and perplexed by the green car coming up their driveway—they thought at first that Dad was one of their friends, then they realized it wasn't and thought we were lost, then saw Mom and saw the resemblance to Helen and realized knew who we were. They welcomed us in, gave us water and some sweet cherries that apparently Evan had a hand in picking, and implored us to sit. They showed us some pictures (and drawings that Bone and company did during their stay), and we showed them some. Their house was extremely nice—I enjoyed their (most likely) locally-made windows, the wonderfully furnished interior, and the well-maintained exterior. Quite a nice place to live. Evan's birthplace, across the "driveway", was crumbling, but intact, on the whole. A thoroughly worthwhile detour.
We left them and head back to Tripoli, but took a wrong turn and got to drive through the Tripolitean market. Fruit galore! Plus, there was a Yiayia wearing a Duke hat, which pleased Theresa quite a bit. The drive from Tripoli to Sparta was a decently curved somewhat smallish road, much like many of the roads in Greece so far. The drive was uneventful. Now I shall interrupt this tale for a lunch at Goody's.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
12 July 2003 – 11:04 PM GMT+2
So we peel out of Mycenae, stopping by the nearby Tomb of Atreus (double chambered, yet only one could be entered), and then hitting the Elektra taverna in the small modern village of Mikaini (or something like that). I had some mediocre Pastitsio, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it, and I got a cool set of Pepsi and 7up bottles out of it. Plus, until a German family came by, there were no other people at the restaurant, which prompted the still-puzzling question: How do all these places stay in business? There were at least six places in Mycenae, and they each had maybe one family per hour. Perplexing. Mom bought an icon of St. Catherine at a shop across the street, and after that, we were on our way to see Epidaurus.
As far as I recall, the trip from Mycenae to Epidaurus was uneventful. Oh, I know why—I slept a great portion of it. Upon arriving and awaking at Epidaurus, we got tickets and entered, and Mom and Dad headed to the W.C. A minute or so after they left, the wind started to whip up in the parking lot (away from any cars) about 30 or 40 yards away. It then started to go in this major circular motion, and eventually whipped itself into a full-blown dust-devil (albeit a tiny one). Still, it got about 40 feet up. A Jeep drove through it and the spectacle vanished, just in time for the parents to miss it. Too bad, it was very cool.
The famous thing at Epidaurus is the amphitheater—it is well-preserved and has very good acoustics (performances are still held today). I muttered some things on stage and went a few rows up, but due to my headaches it wasn't possible to climb to the very top. Apparently, I wasn't missing much—Mom said the acoustics at the top (of the Roman-era 2nd level) were not as good in the original Greek section. Greg, Theresa, and I performed a scene, though, from the Strong Bad Email "Caper;" I was Homestar Runner, Theresa was The Cheat, and Greg was Strong Bad, at the part where the cow lamp was broked. It was magnificent.
I cannot say the same for the remainder of the ruins. Epidaurus is not famous for anything aside from the amphitheater, and for good reason—the remainder is scattered stonework in vague arrays. But the Homestar Runner performance made me glad, and I enjoyed the scenic ride from Epidauros to Nafplion.
Nafplion is a very tourist-friendly place. It caters mainly to Greek vacationers, but they didn't mind our business. After checking in at the Hotel Agamemnon, Greg and I rested while the others explored. We regrouped for dinner at one of those generic taverna-ish Greek-ish outdoor eating establishments that pepper the sidewalks of most of Greece's major streets and oceanfront roads. After an expectedly generic dinner, we left, but not before getting a verbal lashing from the neighboring generic eatery's owner for breaking some sort of unspoken promise that we would patronize his establishment over his competitors. I don't understand the economics of it—I think they should combine all their individual efforts into one gigantic nation-wide eatery—not a chain, just one big restaurant. They all serve the same quasi-ethnic food—souvlaki, Greek salads, bread, and if you're lucky, something tasty and/or vegetarian, for those who want it.
After this, Greg returned to the room while the rest of us wandered to an ice cream place. I had some Straciatella, relaxed, and watched a square filled with kids, stray animals, shop-keeper-peddlers, and tourists looking at…something. Maybe me. Afterwards, Mom and Teeps stayed to shop while Dad (who wanted to stay in the square but needed sleep to drive "safely") and I moseyed back to the room. I zonked out fairly quickly, to everyone's dismay, as I hadn't changed into my PJ's, and, when asked, firmly resisted any suggestions to rectify the situation. My laziness won out in the end, and I slept soundly—something I plan on doing right now.
As far as I recall, the trip from Mycenae to Epidaurus was uneventful. Oh, I know why—I slept a great portion of it. Upon arriving and awaking at Epidaurus, we got tickets and entered, and Mom and Dad headed to the W.C. A minute or so after they left, the wind started to whip up in the parking lot (away from any cars) about 30 or 40 yards away. It then started to go in this major circular motion, and eventually whipped itself into a full-blown dust-devil (albeit a tiny one). Still, it got about 40 feet up. A Jeep drove through it and the spectacle vanished, just in time for the parents to miss it. Too bad, it was very cool.
The famous thing at Epidaurus is the amphitheater—it is well-preserved and has very good acoustics (performances are still held today). I muttered some things on stage and went a few rows up, but due to my headaches it wasn't possible to climb to the very top. Apparently, I wasn't missing much—Mom said the acoustics at the top (of the Roman-era 2nd level) were not as good in the original Greek section. Greg, Theresa, and I performed a scene, though, from the Strong Bad Email "Caper;" I was Homestar Runner, Theresa was The Cheat, and Greg was Strong Bad, at the part where the cow lamp was broked. It was magnificent.
I cannot say the same for the remainder of the ruins. Epidaurus is not famous for anything aside from the amphitheater, and for good reason—the remainder is scattered stonework in vague arrays. But the Homestar Runner performance made me glad, and I enjoyed the scenic ride from Epidauros to Nafplion.
Nafplion is a very tourist-friendly place. It caters mainly to Greek vacationers, but they didn't mind our business. After checking in at the Hotel Agamemnon, Greg and I rested while the others explored. We regrouped for dinner at one of those generic taverna-ish Greek-ish outdoor eating establishments that pepper the sidewalks of most of Greece's major streets and oceanfront roads. After an expectedly generic dinner, we left, but not before getting a verbal lashing from the neighboring generic eatery's owner for breaking some sort of unspoken promise that we would patronize his establishment over his competitors. I don't understand the economics of it—I think they should combine all their individual efforts into one gigantic nation-wide eatery—not a chain, just one big restaurant. They all serve the same quasi-ethnic food—souvlaki, Greek salads, bread, and if you're lucky, something tasty and/or vegetarian, for those who want it.
After this, Greg returned to the room while the rest of us wandered to an ice cream place. I had some Straciatella, relaxed, and watched a square filled with kids, stray animals, shop-keeper-peddlers, and tourists looking at…something. Maybe me. Afterwards, Mom and Teeps stayed to shop while Dad (who wanted to stay in the square but needed sleep to drive "safely") and I moseyed back to the room. I zonked out fairly quickly, to everyone's dismay, as I hadn't changed into my PJ's, and, when asked, firmly resisted any suggestions to rectify the situation. My laziness won out in the end, and I slept soundly—something I plan on doing right now.
12 July 2003 – 10:00 PM GMT+2
So then we woke up for our first driving day. The waking up and check-out procedure was generally non-dramatic. There was a dramatic conversation about hiring people; Theresa got up in a huff (she contends she desired coffee, but I see through her tissue of lies). We thus walked to Europcar with luggage in tow. Upon arrival, Mom and Dad were irked and dismayed to discover that the agency lacked our precious reserved van! After careful deliberation, we chose a lime green Renault Scénic as our first vehicle of the trip.
We got ourselves out of Athens (with the authorities none the wiser) and headed west to Corinth. But, traffic stalled our progress, and in the gridlock we discovered one of the great conflicts of the trip. Theresa enjoys the "fresh" air outside—she claims that she dislikes vomiting from carsickness induced by the A/C. Every sensible person (including myself, of course), thinks that the scalding heat deserves, nay, demands the cool fingers of refreshing Air Conditioning. So we argued and never quite came up with a solution that pleased anyone. But Teeps hasn't vomited, so that's good.
After passing through the traffic we went over the famous Corinth Canal (completely missing it in the process) and turned south to Mycenae. For those of you who have failed to either read the Frommer's or who missed Mom's numerous recitations of said Frommer's, Mycenae was the home of Agamemnon, Klytemnestra, Elektra, Iphigenia, and Orestes. And others. In its hey-day, there were palaces, roads, gold, silver, jewels, and even walls, ceilings, well-defined paths, and a lack of rubble! However, none of that really remained to the present, with the exception of a gate with lions (called Lion's Gate), a few tombs, some maybe-walls, a tunnel I missed apparently, and lots of no shade. But heat! So much heat! I understand the historical value of the site, but the lack of well-defined structures (except those for the dead) made it less magical, than say, Hadrian's Villa or Pompeii. But the view was quite nice, and it must be acknowledge that it is far older than the aforementioned sites, and so can not be expected to be in similarly good condition.
We got ourselves out of Athens (with the authorities none the wiser) and headed west to Corinth. But, traffic stalled our progress, and in the gridlock we discovered one of the great conflicts of the trip. Theresa enjoys the "fresh" air outside—she claims that she dislikes vomiting from carsickness induced by the A/C. Every sensible person (including myself, of course), thinks that the scalding heat deserves, nay, demands the cool fingers of refreshing Air Conditioning. So we argued and never quite came up with a solution that pleased anyone. But Teeps hasn't vomited, so that's good.
After passing through the traffic we went over the famous Corinth Canal (completely missing it in the process) and turned south to Mycenae. For those of you who have failed to either read the Frommer's or who missed Mom's numerous recitations of said Frommer's, Mycenae was the home of Agamemnon, Klytemnestra, Elektra, Iphigenia, and Orestes. And others. In its hey-day, there were palaces, roads, gold, silver, jewels, and even walls, ceilings, well-defined paths, and a lack of rubble! However, none of that really remained to the present, with the exception of a gate with lions (called Lion's Gate), a few tombs, some maybe-walls, a tunnel I missed apparently, and lots of no shade. But heat! So much heat! I understand the historical value of the site, but the lack of well-defined structures (except those for the dead) made it less magical, than say, Hadrian's Villa or Pompeii. But the view was quite nice, and it must be acknowledge that it is far older than the aforementioned sites, and so can not be expected to be in similarly good condition.
12 July 2003 – 11:38 AM GMT+2
Well, it's a straight shot from Tripoli to Sparta, so I guess I can try to catch up now.
The Benaki Museum had four floors of Greek Historical garb and pottery, with the exception of the 2nd, which was apparently some French photography exhibit. I don't exactly know what it was doing there, but there it was. On the 3rd floor was the most modern of stuff, from the revolutionary era. They had some clothes, medals, chair, & the like.
Then on the 1st floor were some reconstructed rooms, a lot of clothes, & a rotunda (part of the museum's architecture). On the 0th floor there were miscellaneous old things on various pedestals, plus a gift shop.
We left the Benaki Museum with a good amount of time left in the day. It was decided that we would go to the top of Mt. Lycabettus (Λυκαβηττός). I led us to the base of a massive set of flights of stairs, at whose top was the funicular which would get us to the top of the hill. Climbing this hill caused a problem, though—I got this monstrous headache. Mom and I took the hill slowly, and when we reached the top, we all bought tickets and got on the thing. Sadly, the funicular was completely enclosed.
At the top was a terrific view of the sprawl that is Athens. The city has grown ridiculously large as time has progressed, I guess. There were buildings as far as the eye can see. Everywhere there were white walls topped with these terra-cotta shingles. I spent most of the time seated, but did see the Acropolis when I got up and looked around. There was also this very expensive café (where it cost €3 for a ½ L of water!) at which we did not eat. But we enjoyed the view and headed downstairs to go back to the room before dinner.
Here's where our crisis occurred. Essentially right after exiting the Metro (same block—I checked), we all decided to go to a Supermarket to get Band-Aids and perhaps an extension cord. But Greg was too far ahead of us to hear—we decided that, Greg being Greg, he'd go back to the room (he had the key) and plop down to sleep. So we went to the Supermarket, buying no Bandaids and no extension cords. But we did get many many cans.
Of course, besides space concerns, we have, as of yet, no crisis. So we got back to the street we left Greg at and started to climb to our room. Well, Dad and I stopped at a bookstore and got a map book, while Theresa and Mom went up to the room. Well, on our way up, almost at the hotel, who comes up running behind us? None other than Greg. So all of us realize that by the time we get to the room, Mom will be in a Code Twelve crazy fit.
Well, true to form, we take the elevator up to the room (too much climbing) and Theresa's there being— aloof is a good word, I guess—and tells us Mom has, indeed, had a Class Twelve crazy fit; we discovered she had gone off to look for Greg. So Dad went out to look for her. So I start writing and eventually everyone finds each other and we're all hungry together.
We go over towards the Parthenon where we knew some restaurants were, and looked at this one place recommended by Frommers'. Mom and Theresa didn't like the menu, so we kept looking and found a roof-top place that had stuffed tomatoes—something Theresa really wanted. But aside from grilled chicken and chicken souvlaki there was practically nothing that I was willing to eat, let alone wanting to. Thus we kept looking, much to Theresa's dismay. We ended up choosing this place Yiayia recommended called Dionysus or something that had really good house chicken—a delicious sauce! Theresa was quite unhappy that she could not have her stuffed tomatoes, but Mom and I agree that it was the best meal we've eaten thus far.
After dinner, Mom and Dad went to get ice cream and cash, while us kids went back to the room. We crashed there and eventually all went to sleep. And now we're almost and the caves, so I'll get back to you later.
The Benaki Museum had four floors of Greek Historical garb and pottery, with the exception of the 2nd, which was apparently some French photography exhibit. I don't exactly know what it was doing there, but there it was. On the 3rd floor was the most modern of stuff, from the revolutionary era. They had some clothes, medals, chair, & the like.
Then on the 1st floor were some reconstructed rooms, a lot of clothes, & a rotunda (part of the museum's architecture). On the 0th floor there were miscellaneous old things on various pedestals, plus a gift shop.
We left the Benaki Museum with a good amount of time left in the day. It was decided that we would go to the top of Mt. Lycabettus (Λυκαβηττός). I led us to the base of a massive set of flights of stairs, at whose top was the funicular which would get us to the top of the hill. Climbing this hill caused a problem, though—I got this monstrous headache. Mom and I took the hill slowly, and when we reached the top, we all bought tickets and got on the thing. Sadly, the funicular was completely enclosed.
At the top was a terrific view of the sprawl that is Athens. The city has grown ridiculously large as time has progressed, I guess. There were buildings as far as the eye can see. Everywhere there were white walls topped with these terra-cotta shingles. I spent most of the time seated, but did see the Acropolis when I got up and looked around. There was also this very expensive café (where it cost €3 for a ½ L of water!) at which we did not eat. But we enjoyed the view and headed downstairs to go back to the room before dinner.
Here's where our crisis occurred. Essentially right after exiting the Metro (same block—I checked), we all decided to go to a Supermarket to get Band-Aids and perhaps an extension cord. But Greg was too far ahead of us to hear—we decided that, Greg being Greg, he'd go back to the room (he had the key) and plop down to sleep. So we went to the Supermarket, buying no Bandaids and no extension cords. But we did get many many cans.
Of course, besides space concerns, we have, as of yet, no crisis. So we got back to the street we left Greg at and started to climb to our room. Well, Dad and I stopped at a bookstore and got a map book, while Theresa and Mom went up to the room. Well, on our way up, almost at the hotel, who comes up running behind us? None other than Greg. So all of us realize that by the time we get to the room, Mom will be in a Code Twelve crazy fit.
Well, true to form, we take the elevator up to the room (too much climbing) and Theresa's there being— aloof is a good word, I guess—and tells us Mom has, indeed, had a Class Twelve crazy fit; we discovered she had gone off to look for Greg. So Dad went out to look for her. So I start writing and eventually everyone finds each other and we're all hungry together.
We go over towards the Parthenon where we knew some restaurants were, and looked at this one place recommended by Frommers'. Mom and Theresa didn't like the menu, so we kept looking and found a roof-top place that had stuffed tomatoes—something Theresa really wanted. But aside from grilled chicken and chicken souvlaki there was practically nothing that I was willing to eat, let alone wanting to. Thus we kept looking, much to Theresa's dismay. We ended up choosing this place Yiayia recommended called Dionysus or something that had really good house chicken—a delicious sauce! Theresa was quite unhappy that she could not have her stuffed tomatoes, but Mom and I agree that it was the best meal we've eaten thus far.
After dinner, Mom and Dad went to get ice cream and cash, while us kids went back to the room. We crashed there and eventually all went to sleep. And now we're almost and the caves, so I'll get back to you later.
12 July 2003 – 7:15 AM GMT+2
OK. Hopefully I can catch up before we need to get outta here.
After the Agora we headed across the way to some museums, but not before hitting Athens's apparently famous flea market. There were many stores (obviously), seemingly placed in zones of type of merchandise. We started in the housewares division (with some electronics mixed in with the furniture dealers) where we searched for an extension cord so we could plug our outlet adaptor into the recessed socket, in order to recharge Greg's Game Boy Advance SP. Then we went through to the wearables, with a heavy emphasis on tourist merchandise, Olympic stuff, and band shirts from System of a Down, Slipknot, and Linkin Park. Those kids today with their music. Then to the traditional souvenirs, then to the jewelry. All, of course, had a heavy sprinkling of their touristy shops within their loosely defined boundaries. I can't imagine getting particularly good deals here, but the goods seemed to be of a higher quality than the bazaars I've seen, but they had little food outside of the standard Coke fridge. Depending on the place, too, there was much less buy-buy-buy from the owners (although this was occasionally the case).
But by this time people were starting to get hungry. After a half-hour at an Internet cafe while mom shopped futilely for a nice inexpensive icon, we headed over to the Benaki Museum's cafe to eat lunch. Of course, while there, we discovered they were out of chicken sandwiches, bumming out Greg and apparently shocking Mom when he ordered a salad—without meat! I can't blame him though—his mild allergy to pork could have made those pig-based dishes making up the remainder of the menu slightly unpleasant.
After lunch we left the Benaki Museum to hit the lovely (kinda) museum of Cycladic Art. This museum was fours floors (+ lobby) (+ a new wing) of art from the Cyclades, and some other stuff. The 4th floor had old pots plus a non-operational A/V program. The 3rd had very out-of-place modern art from Greeks & Italians. The 2nd floor had more pots with a smattering of urns, while the 1st had the nose people (editor's note: drawing replaced by photo at right)—no definition in the face of the statues aside from the nose. The 0th floor had the gift shop and café, through which we went to get to the new wing of the building. There they had a special exhibit (?) on the things of sea-faring civilizations. Included were pots (of course), some coins, some neat clay tablets with Linear A on them, and some marbleized wood. They also had a plug with which Greg tested his 3-way prong adapter for Greece that he got in the flea market to alleviate the Game Bay situation, as well as some very comfortable-looking couches that were apparently only for staff and on which we could not sit.
Then having finished the Cyclades, we went back to the Benaki. But now breakfast calls; I'll try to finish this up in the car.
After the Agora we headed across the way to some museums, but not before hitting Athens's apparently famous flea market. There were many stores (obviously), seemingly placed in zones of type of merchandise. We started in the housewares division (with some electronics mixed in with the furniture dealers) where we searched for an extension cord so we could plug our outlet adaptor into the recessed socket, in order to recharge Greg's Game Boy Advance SP. Then we went through to the wearables, with a heavy emphasis on tourist merchandise, Olympic stuff, and band shirts from System of a Down, Slipknot, and Linkin Park. Those kids today with their music. Then to the traditional souvenirs, then to the jewelry. All, of course, had a heavy sprinkling of their touristy shops within their loosely defined boundaries. I can't imagine getting particularly good deals here, but the goods seemed to be of a higher quality than the bazaars I've seen, but they had little food outside of the standard Coke fridge. Depending on the place, too, there was much less buy-buy-buy from the owners (although this was occasionally the case).
But by this time people were starting to get hungry. After a half-hour at an Internet cafe while mom shopped futilely for a nice inexpensive icon, we headed over to the Benaki Museum's cafe to eat lunch. Of course, while there, we discovered they were out of chicken sandwiches, bumming out Greg and apparently shocking Mom when he ordered a salad—without meat! I can't blame him though—his mild allergy to pork could have made those pig-based dishes making up the remainder of the menu slightly unpleasant.
 |
| L'art des Cyclades (musée national d'archéologie, Athènes) By dalbera on Flickr |
Then having finished the Cyclades, we went back to the Benaki. But now breakfast calls; I'll try to finish this up in the car.
Friday, July 11, 2003
11 July 2003 – 7:41 AM GMT+2
So yesterday. We'll get to the aforementioned "crisis" shortly.
The day started with us getting up and eating breakfast and the like. We then headed out basically the same way we did the day before, in search for dinner—over the Acropolis. Our destination? The ancient Agora. We got there and discovered that Socrates, Plato, and St. Paul were there to greet us! (See relevant picture.)*
There was a quite nice reconstructed stoa on the side of the Agora, and on the other side, atop a hill, a fairly well-preserved Temple to Asbestos—em, Hephaestus. The rest of the place was basically ruined ruins; old, yes, but not very compelling.
We gotta go. More later. And I was watching Thundercats in Greek, too!
*Editor's footnote: I don't know what picture I was referring to. Presumably one that Dad took.
The day started with us getting up and eating breakfast and the like. We then headed out basically the same way we did the day before, in search for dinner—over the Acropolis. Our destination? The ancient Agora. We got there and discovered that Socrates, Plato, and St. Paul were there to greet us! (See relevant picture.)*
There was a quite nice reconstructed stoa on the side of the Agora, and on the other side, atop a hill, a fairly well-preserved Temple to Asbestos—em, Hephaestus. The rest of the place was basically ruined ruins; old, yes, but not very compelling.
We gotta go. More later. And I was watching Thundercats in Greek, too!
*Editor's footnote: I don't know what picture I was referring to. Presumably one that Dad took.
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