Today has been one of my longest days in Greece. I started walking at about 8:30, and didn't stop for any statistically significant time period until around 6:30. Ten hours of walking on flat ground is tiring, but the topography of this city is such that flat ground is common only in the areas nearest the sea (which is not where most of my day was spent, unfortunately).
However, those hours of walking rewarded me with tours and views of some of the coolest historical sites in Europe. Thessaloniki is saturated with history, with each successive generation building literally on top of the places the previous generations held dear. Its location on an important port, plus the roads that have connected it to neighboring cities since antiquity, mean that it remains an important trade city. The ancient Greeks used it as such, the Romans protected it because of this, and the Turks held onto it long after much of the rest of Greece was independent because of its trade value.
All of this means that you can't go anywhere in Old Thessaloniki without tripping on something older than the New World.
Today, Alicia (one of the ladies I met yesterday) joined me in my wanderings. We started at Vlatadon monastery again, since she had not gotten an opportunity to see the inside of the Catholikon. From there we attempted to visit a couple of other small and ancient churches, but since it is Sunday and all of the chapels are still active, we couldn't actually see the inside of most of them due to mass services in progress.
We did manage to get into the Rotunda, which is a building with a varied and excellent history. It started life as a Roman mausoleum (or temple depending who you ask) built for the Roman emperor Galerius in the 300's. Galerius, although he was partially responsible for making Thessaloniki an important Roman trade city, was not very good at dying where he was supposed to, and he kicked the bucket in Serbia. So much for being a mausoleum. Constantine the Great (the fellow who converted the Roman empire to Christianity, whose name Istanbul used to bear) ordered it converted into a church. Eventually the Ottomans overran Thessaloniki, and during their reign they built a minaret and converted the building into a mosque. When Thessaloniki finally gained its independence in 1917, it was turned back into a church, which it mostly remains today. The building was damaged significantly during an earthquake in 1970, and the minaret has only recently been stabilized enough to stand without scaffolding. The same cannot be said for the Rotunda, and unfortunately the inside is lined with scaffolding that obscures many of the few remaining frescoes and mosaics.
What actually is visible through the scaffolds are vibrant, clean examples of early Christian artwork. This is one of the oldest surviving Christian churches on earth, as if it weren't significant enough in its own right. All around the building are excavations, with pieces of architectural marble carvings and religious inscriptions. There is still evidence of the building's time as a mosque, as you can see by the Arabic inscription beneath the Christian fresco above the door in one of my photos.
Second stop was the Church of Agios Dimitriou (Saint Dimitrius, to us Anglophones). This gigantic church sits directly on top of the catacombs where Saint Dimitrios was martyred. Although much of it burned in 1917 (what can I say, it was a big year for Thessaloniki), there are still a few original mosaics and frescos inside, and even the icons that aren't original are beautiful. The catacombs are considered one of Greece's holiest sites, and unfortunately we weren't able to visit them today. I'm going back tomorrow afternoon to take a look (pray that the long pants and closed toed shoes I will be wearing out of respect for the Saint and the church don't end up causing me to join the dear Saint a few years earlier than expected in this weather!). Inside the church, Dimitrios' relics are contained in an extremely ornate silver reliquary, topped by a crown like object I can't properly describe and refuse to photograph (I don't think they would allow photography anyway).
Next stop was the White Tower again - this time to actually visit the inside. This used to be the far end of one of the city's giant walls - it now stands alone, the wall near it having been demolished hundreds of years ago. It has been used as a prison, watch station, and Sea Scout base over the years, and was once called the 'Red Tower' in an allusion to a mass execution of prisoners performed by the Turks there. It was painted white by a prisoner in exchange for his freedom in 1917, as a symbol of renewal after Thessaloniki finally gained independence (or more correctly, came under the control of the modern Greek state), and although it hasn't been painted in decades, the name stuck. The museum inside had alot of fascinating photos, but absolutely no English explanations of anything (other than the titles for each of the rooms..). I didn't get many facts out of it, but I did get to see some great photos of prior times in Thessaloniki, which made it worth the trip. The view from the top was also excellent, although I'm finding that great views of Thessaloniki aren't hard to find if you are willing to walk to access them.
Last stop for me this afternoon was the Museum of Byzantine Culture. I am not putting up any/many pictures from this place because I have something against posting pictures taken in a museum (although I will gladly show them when I get home). There are a couple of reasons for this - firstly, they never turn out very well, and I can't apologize 600 times for the poor quality if I post them here. Whether allowed or not, I didn't use flash in the interest of preserving the 1500 year old relics. Long exposure times to compensate for low light, plus my typical wobbly nature, makes for blurry photos.
The museum itself was first rate. According to the literature, it displays more than 3000 of Greece's most significant examples of Byzantine art. By Byzantine, I mean Orthodox Christian artwork from approximately 300- 1700 AD. The museum flows approximately chronologically, beginning with early Christian burial and funerary traditions and art. This museum is extremely tourist friendly, with all display explanations posted in both Greek and (extremely good!) English. I realized about 10 minutes in that I really love Byzantine art, so I was in hog heaven. There were even entire mosaics and frescos from Churches all over Greece preserved there. I have no idea how one goes about moving a 30'x30' mosaic without destroying it or losing a single piece, but they have done it several times there.
This brings me to another of those unusual things about Thessaloniki. When building here, it isn't uncommon to uncover an old church site, burial ground, or other historically or artistically significant site. Since there it is unfeasible to make each site a tourist spot, the museum will remove art and artifacts, do a full survey of the site, and then fill it with sand - allowing construction to continue on the site. This way, the best and most interesting elements of the site can be enjoyed, and modern Thessaloniki doesn't get razed in the interest of historical preservation. As much as I'd love to see everything under the city, I understand the balance that must be struck here. The metro system being built here has run into the same kinds of issues - and like Athens, there will be small museums in the stops to display the artifacts that are discovered while building.
Irrelevant musing for the day: reading through the Museum, alot of really significant things have happened in this city. From invasions by foreign monarchies, to civil wars, to ethnic cleansing by the Nazis, to economic collapse and persecutions, it has happened here. But in the midst of it all, and in spite of it all, life goes on in ordinary ways for most of the people here. Perhaps the 'aloof' quality that someone asked me about in regards to Europeans and Greeks in particular is due at least partly to the realization that no matter what happens politically, economically, or globally, life will carry on in the ordinary ways, and no matter who calls himself King of this land, somebody has to bring bread home tonight. I think this might be the distinction between Americans and much of the rest of the world. Our history is so short, and so relatively calm, that we act like each ripple in history is the end of the world.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Finding God both in the quiet places and noisy ones
Yesterday I was not sure I like Thessaloniki, and the thought of leaving before my reserved 5 days here definitely occurred to me more than once. I also notice that yesterday's blog post was less upbeat than usual - I should really consider posting only on days I come 'home' with some energy! After some sleep and good food, I absolutely love this city. It takes a little longer to get used to, and yesterday's observation about its less tourist friendly nature stands true. But even the non-English speaking natives are still friendly and helpful, and there is so much history here that I fear even I will start to take it for granted! The city slopes gradually upward from the sea, and at the top of the ridge there is a massive, ancient wall built in the 4th and 5th centuries to defend the port city.
Today I took the same navigational approach as yesterday - figure out the general direction of the things you want to see, and just start walking. When I hit a dead end, I switched alleys and kept trying. The only rule is to keep walking until I find something worth staring at for a while. So far this approach hasn't failed me - I managed to find the Vlatadon Monastery mostly by chance after about an hour of walking in what might have been giant zig-zags. It is located just opposite the street that follows the giant castle wall, and would be very easy to miss if you don't keep a sharp eye out.
The Monastery itself isn't very large, but it has a commanding view of the city and the port below. When I walked in I was greeted by a small courtyard filled with trees and benches, with a bookstore on my right and the 14th century church (Catholikon, in Greek) on my left. Farther in on the right, with the Catholikon on my left, was a small chapel. The end farthest from the entrance gate is an open balcony overlooking Thessaloniki and its port.
I spent nearly two hours in the wooded courtyard and on the steps of the Catholikon, reading 'Grace for the Moment', my small bible (thanks Chelsey!), praying, and thinking. After a full day in airports, 5 days in Athens, and 2 in Thessaloniki, noise and bustle had become 'normal' to me, and the solitude and relative isolation of the Monastery were just what I needed to re-center myself. The holiness of that place is almost palpable, like you could reach out and take a small piece of it for yourself to enjoy during a trying time in your life. Perhaps that's what the memory of the place really is - your own small piece of God's harmony.
Although God is present in all places, it is easiest for my feeble soul to hear and feel him closest to me in the quiet ones. I hadn't actually planned on staying in Vlatadon long, but I actually had a hard time leaving even after 2 hours there.
The saying goes "The Lord works in mysterious ways" - but I am often guilty of forgetting that God also works in obvious ways. I prayed that God would guide both my feet and my soul during my travels and my life, and less than 15 minutes later I heard the first (native) English speaking voices I'd heard since arriving in Thessaloniki. Here I met Helen, John (both from Australia, but of Greek descent), and Alicia (from Kentucky!). After they got their fill of the monastery we all followed the ancient castle wall to a small shopping area that is home to a great gyro stand, as well as a gelateria (think gelato and coffee). Alicia was kind enough to our lunch, which was ordered with the help of Helen's fluent Greek. John explained some of the changes he has seen during his various visits to Greece - changes in immigration, politics, and even culture. I haven't gotten many chances to talk to anyone knowledgeable on these topics, and I really enjoyed his commentary.
Helen and John were kind enough to let me bum a ride in their taxi to the White Tower, an old fortification that sits maybe 50 meters from the sea and 5-6 km from the monastery. Here they dropped me off and I began my unaccompanied wanderings. After posing for a picture with Alexander the Great (the city is named for his half sister) I decided to start walking in the general direction of 'uphill.'
It is impossible to wander very far in Old Thessaloniki without finding some kind of ruins, and my walk back toward the castle wall provided me with plenty of fascinating ruins to explore and photograph. I can't name most of them, and I doubt that most natives of Thessaloniki could, either. the ones I can name include the Rotunda (I have no idea what it is for, I'm going to explore it tomorrow when it's actually open), an arch with a Greek name I failed to photograph, the Church of Sotir, and the Catacombs of Agios Ioannis.
The catacombs were open, and were actually my first experience inside an Orthodox holy structure (The church at the Monastery was closed in the morning, and I could only explore the courtyards and areas surrounding it). The entrance to the catacombs is covered by a chapel (did I mention that there are chapels everywhere in Greece? Even surrounding churches!). The chapel contains an offering box, several rows of seats, and what looks like enough space to hold mass. Descending into the catacombs via the slick and age worn marble stairs is a little bit treacherous, and the damp corridor looks a little imposing. The corridor takes a sharp right at the base of the stairs, and the hallway it opens into is lit mostly by skylights built into the sidewalk. There are 2 large chambers and 1 'chamber' that is closer to an extension of the corridor than an actual room. This smallest area, ironically, contains the most icons. One of the larger rooms has a couple of icons and a bench, and the other has a holy water fount and two icons of its own. Although it isn't mentioned in my Lonely Planet chapter on Thessaloniki, this actually seemed to be a popular site. I spent a few minutes outside the catacombs talking to an older woman about the site - she spoke only 3 words of English, and I speak only about 8 words of Greek (and none relate well to catacombs). It's amazing how much communication can be accomplished speaking completely different languages. I picked out a few new words (katacombi, for example, means catacombs). Her hand gestures, combined with my memory of the icons in the catacombs, managed to convey that the site is dedicated to a saint who was beheaded for his faith.
My aim at this point in the day was to get back to the church in time for the evening service, which I thought was at 17:00. I managed to find my way back, again by complete luck combined with a very vague and generalized sense of 'its uphill and to my left.' All the photo opportunities along the way nearly conspired to make me late - but I made it to the monastery with 25 minutes to spare. The bookstore was actually open when I arrived, so I wandered in and attempted conversation with the cashier (not as much luck here as with the older woman). I did manage to ascertain that I was 2 1/2 hours early - the service didn't begin until 19:00. This proved to be a blessing in disguise - I now had time to grab another of those excellent gyro pita sandwiches, this time with all the toppings. Few things in this life can beat a good pork gyro on pita, loaded with fresh tomatoes, onions, mustard, french fries (weird, yes), and good tzatziki (yogurt 'sauce' with cucumbers and garlic). Its a messy but unbelievably tasty treat, and at only 2.5 euro, they aren't expensive by any means.
After following the ancient wall for about another 1/2 km, grabbing some Greek coffee (nearly espresso strength coffee, served about 2 ounces at a time, with the grounds left in the bottom of the cup), I made my way back to the monastery in plenty of time for mass. I realized once I got there that I should have done my homework before showing up for a service. I had no idea why everyone that came in was lighting between 1 and 3 candles and placing them in trays of sand located in various places near the icons. An emergency call to Jonathan solved that dilemma - if I caught what he said correctly, they are in remembrance of loved ones who have died, and also in veneration of the saints. I dropped a few Euro into the offering tray and lit a couple of candles of my own, and sat down in one of the very old 'pews', actually individual seats with very tall, double decker arms (one high enough to support yourself with your arms while standing, or that's what I assume its for).
The church, unfortunately for those reading this, does not allow photography inside. I am actually somewhat glad they don't - somehow photography in such a place seems disrespectful. The building itself is fairly plain, one tall dome in the middle with construction typical of the time surrounding it. The nearly 700 year old wooden supports for the roof are still present, some more so than others. One support was actually warped by maybe 18", but it appears to have been built that way - perhaps as a powerful and tangible symbol that for God, even the less than perfect serve an important role. Or perhaps I simply read too much into it. There are masonry and cement walls inside the church that support the dome, and these are adorned with the remains frescoes depicting biblical scenes as well as some scenes from the lives of saints associated with the church. There are large piece of the frescoes missing but those that have clung together are both inspiring and beautiful. At the front of the church there is a very intricately carved wooden 'wall' or screen separating the altar and main crucifix from the rest of the church, and it is from this 'room' that the priest and his assistants administered most of the service. Worked into this wooden wall are spaces for several more icons, which add both color and mystery to the screen.
The service consisted mostly of hymns and chants performed by the priest and a couple other ministers of some sort (I am almost certain one was a layman of some sort). Although I didn't understand a word of it, the service still managed to give me goosebumps a few times, from the combination of beautiful chants and the sensation of being in such an ancient and holy place. No matter where you are in the church, at least one icon is always visible, lending the idea that God is always watching a somewhat more literal interpretation.
My walk back followed the castle wall for the most part - I'm not sure how long it actually is, but I know it has to be more than 4 km - I've followed it at least that far. And in typical Greek fashion, modern dwellings are actually built onto the wall in places. The entire wall predates the discovery of the Western hemisphere by Europeans, and the fourth wall of a few dozen run down homes is actually an ancient castle wall.
I think that's enough for tonight - I could go on forever, but few will read as much as I've already written. Besides, if I write it all down, what reason does anyone have to actually talk to me?! I jest, of course.
Picture explanations:
1. Rotunda
2. Alexander the Great statue
3. White Tower (holy perspective Batman, I look really tall here)
4. Vlatadon Catholikon
5. Entrance to Vlatadon Monastery
6. "Why yes, my living room wall also doubles as an ancient fortification, why do you ask?"
7. More of the Kastro wall
8. View from the Kastro. Look closely in the center and you can see the Rotunda trying to look inconspicuous.
9. Another view of the Kastro Wall and a road I can't pronounce properly
10. View of Thessaloniki and its port from the wall
11. The hall and courtyard of the Vlatadon Monastery
Today I took the same navigational approach as yesterday - figure out the general direction of the things you want to see, and just start walking. When I hit a dead end, I switched alleys and kept trying. The only rule is to keep walking until I find something worth staring at for a while. So far this approach hasn't failed me - I managed to find the Vlatadon Monastery mostly by chance after about an hour of walking in what might have been giant zig-zags. It is located just opposite the street that follows the giant castle wall, and would be very easy to miss if you don't keep a sharp eye out.
The Monastery itself isn't very large, but it has a commanding view of the city and the port below. When I walked in I was greeted by a small courtyard filled with trees and benches, with a bookstore on my right and the 14th century church (Catholikon, in Greek) on my left. Farther in on the right, with the Catholikon on my left, was a small chapel. The end farthest from the entrance gate is an open balcony overlooking Thessaloniki and its port.
I spent nearly two hours in the wooded courtyard and on the steps of the Catholikon, reading 'Grace for the Moment', my small bible (thanks Chelsey!), praying, and thinking. After a full day in airports, 5 days in Athens, and 2 in Thessaloniki, noise and bustle had become 'normal' to me, and the solitude and relative isolation of the Monastery were just what I needed to re-center myself. The holiness of that place is almost palpable, like you could reach out and take a small piece of it for yourself to enjoy during a trying time in your life. Perhaps that's what the memory of the place really is - your own small piece of God's harmony.
Although God is present in all places, it is easiest for my feeble soul to hear and feel him closest to me in the quiet ones. I hadn't actually planned on staying in Vlatadon long, but I actually had a hard time leaving even after 2 hours there.
The saying goes "The Lord works in mysterious ways" - but I am often guilty of forgetting that God also works in obvious ways. I prayed that God would guide both my feet and my soul during my travels and my life, and less than 15 minutes later I heard the first (native) English speaking voices I'd heard since arriving in Thessaloniki. Here I met Helen, John (both from Australia, but of Greek descent), and Alicia (from Kentucky!). After they got their fill of the monastery we all followed the ancient castle wall to a small shopping area that is home to a great gyro stand, as well as a gelateria (think gelato and coffee). Alicia was kind enough to our lunch, which was ordered with the help of Helen's fluent Greek. John explained some of the changes he has seen during his various visits to Greece - changes in immigration, politics, and even culture. I haven't gotten many chances to talk to anyone knowledgeable on these topics, and I really enjoyed his commentary.
Helen and John were kind enough to let me bum a ride in their taxi to the White Tower, an old fortification that sits maybe 50 meters from the sea and 5-6 km from the monastery. Here they dropped me off and I began my unaccompanied wanderings. After posing for a picture with Alexander the Great (the city is named for his half sister) I decided to start walking in the general direction of 'uphill.'
It is impossible to wander very far in Old Thessaloniki without finding some kind of ruins, and my walk back toward the castle wall provided me with plenty of fascinating ruins to explore and photograph. I can't name most of them, and I doubt that most natives of Thessaloniki could, either. the ones I can name include the Rotunda (I have no idea what it is for, I'm going to explore it tomorrow when it's actually open), an arch with a Greek name I failed to photograph, the Church of Sotir, and the Catacombs of Agios Ioannis.
The catacombs were open, and were actually my first experience inside an Orthodox holy structure (The church at the Monastery was closed in the morning, and I could only explore the courtyards and areas surrounding it). The entrance to the catacombs is covered by a chapel (did I mention that there are chapels everywhere in Greece? Even surrounding churches!). The chapel contains an offering box, several rows of seats, and what looks like enough space to hold mass. Descending into the catacombs via the slick and age worn marble stairs is a little bit treacherous, and the damp corridor looks a little imposing. The corridor takes a sharp right at the base of the stairs, and the hallway it opens into is lit mostly by skylights built into the sidewalk. There are 2 large chambers and 1 'chamber' that is closer to an extension of the corridor than an actual room. This smallest area, ironically, contains the most icons. One of the larger rooms has a couple of icons and a bench, and the other has a holy water fount and two icons of its own. Although it isn't mentioned in my Lonely Planet chapter on Thessaloniki, this actually seemed to be a popular site. I spent a few minutes outside the catacombs talking to an older woman about the site - she spoke only 3 words of English, and I speak only about 8 words of Greek (and none relate well to catacombs). It's amazing how much communication can be accomplished speaking completely different languages. I picked out a few new words (katacombi, for example, means catacombs). Her hand gestures, combined with my memory of the icons in the catacombs, managed to convey that the site is dedicated to a saint who was beheaded for his faith.
My aim at this point in the day was to get back to the church in time for the evening service, which I thought was at 17:00. I managed to find my way back, again by complete luck combined with a very vague and generalized sense of 'its uphill and to my left.' All the photo opportunities along the way nearly conspired to make me late - but I made it to the monastery with 25 minutes to spare. The bookstore was actually open when I arrived, so I wandered in and attempted conversation with the cashier (not as much luck here as with the older woman). I did manage to ascertain that I was 2 1/2 hours early - the service didn't begin until 19:00. This proved to be a blessing in disguise - I now had time to grab another of those excellent gyro pita sandwiches, this time with all the toppings. Few things in this life can beat a good pork gyro on pita, loaded with fresh tomatoes, onions, mustard, french fries (weird, yes), and good tzatziki (yogurt 'sauce' with cucumbers and garlic). Its a messy but unbelievably tasty treat, and at only 2.5 euro, they aren't expensive by any means.
After following the ancient wall for about another 1/2 km, grabbing some Greek coffee (nearly espresso strength coffee, served about 2 ounces at a time, with the grounds left in the bottom of the cup), I made my way back to the monastery in plenty of time for mass. I realized once I got there that I should have done my homework before showing up for a service. I had no idea why everyone that came in was lighting between 1 and 3 candles and placing them in trays of sand located in various places near the icons. An emergency call to Jonathan solved that dilemma - if I caught what he said correctly, they are in remembrance of loved ones who have died, and also in veneration of the saints. I dropped a few Euro into the offering tray and lit a couple of candles of my own, and sat down in one of the very old 'pews', actually individual seats with very tall, double decker arms (one high enough to support yourself with your arms while standing, or that's what I assume its for).
The church, unfortunately for those reading this, does not allow photography inside. I am actually somewhat glad they don't - somehow photography in such a place seems disrespectful. The building itself is fairly plain, one tall dome in the middle with construction typical of the time surrounding it. The nearly 700 year old wooden supports for the roof are still present, some more so than others. One support was actually warped by maybe 18", but it appears to have been built that way - perhaps as a powerful and tangible symbol that for God, even the less than perfect serve an important role. Or perhaps I simply read too much into it. There are masonry and cement walls inside the church that support the dome, and these are adorned with the remains frescoes depicting biblical scenes as well as some scenes from the lives of saints associated with the church. There are large piece of the frescoes missing but those that have clung together are both inspiring and beautiful. At the front of the church there is a very intricately carved wooden 'wall' or screen separating the altar and main crucifix from the rest of the church, and it is from this 'room' that the priest and his assistants administered most of the service. Worked into this wooden wall are spaces for several more icons, which add both color and mystery to the screen.
The service consisted mostly of hymns and chants performed by the priest and a couple other ministers of some sort (I am almost certain one was a layman of some sort). Although I didn't understand a word of it, the service still managed to give me goosebumps a few times, from the combination of beautiful chants and the sensation of being in such an ancient and holy place. No matter where you are in the church, at least one icon is always visible, lending the idea that God is always watching a somewhat more literal interpretation.
My walk back followed the castle wall for the most part - I'm not sure how long it actually is, but I know it has to be more than 4 km - I've followed it at least that far. And in typical Greek fashion, modern dwellings are actually built onto the wall in places. The entire wall predates the discovery of the Western hemisphere by Europeans, and the fourth wall of a few dozen run down homes is actually an ancient castle wall.
I think that's enough for tonight - I could go on forever, but few will read as much as I've already written. Besides, if I write it all down, what reason does anyone have to actually talk to me?! I jest, of course.
Picture explanations:
1. Rotunda
2. Alexander the Great statue
3. White Tower (holy perspective Batman, I look really tall here)
4. Vlatadon Catholikon
5. Entrance to Vlatadon Monastery
6. "Why yes, my living room wall also doubles as an ancient fortification, why do you ask?"
7. More of the Kastro wall
8. View from the Kastro. Look closely in the center and you can see the Rotunda trying to look inconspicuous.
9. Another view of the Kastro Wall and a road I can't pronounce properly
10. View of Thessaloniki and its port from the wall
11. The hall and courtyard of the Vlatadon Monastery
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thessaloniki (Θεσσαλονίκη) - sink or swim time at 28 Sachtouri
Nothing too exciting today - I took the OSE InterCity train from Athens to Thessaloniki, Greece's second largest city. The train ride was slow, but the views were worth it. Olive groves, vineyards, watermelon patches, and even small corn fields patch the valleys between the mountains the train snakes its route through for most of the trip. I didn't take many photos, since the windows tend to spoil them, but I did snap one or two early in the trip before the really breathtaking views.
I've been in my hostel most of the afternoon, relaxing and recovering from the hike up the hill with my luggage. Being a smart guy (ehem..), I decided to walk the 3 km from the train station to my hostel in 85* weather. Although it was a pain, I'm somewhat glad I did. It gave me a bit of a feel for the location of my hostel, and it reminded me that I need to pack lighter next time.
This city isn't nearly as touristy as Athens, and in fact I have had a hard time finding people who speak more than a few words of English. This will definitely give me an opportunity to practice my Greek tomorrow, when I plan to wander farther from 'home'. Tonight's dinner mission almost ended in complete failure, due to my very elementary Greek (and terrible pronunciation) and the lack of English speaking restaurant owners. Although I'm certain I could get by at most of the places I skipped over, I'm too exhausted to try today. I found a gyro shop and managed to get my point across the highly amused owner.
I don't have any idea how I found my way home, I wandered probably 3-4 km toward downtown in search of food, nearly reaching the sea, before I turned around. Although I wasn't making a conscious effort to remember, I managed to exactly follow my footsteps back to the hostel.
The gyro, for the record, was not very good. It looked and tasted more like a bits of a roasted slab of bacon. But it was cheap and I'm not hungry anymore, so its not a complete loss. My first disappointing Greek dish! I suppose it had to happen at some point. I would have paid 10 Euro for a nice piece of spanakopita (which, also for the record, is about 5 times what it sells for at any one of a thousand small restaurants in Athens).
My hostel is really interesting, it seems to be a converted house of some sort, with beds placed in every room. It's a beautiful place, and the owners are very friendly. I can see the sea from the entrance, and once in a while I can hear a ship blow its fog horn before it departs.
Tomorrow I'm heading to the Thessaloniki Ano Poli (downtown) to see some of the ruins and hopefully find some better food!
I've been in my hostel most of the afternoon, relaxing and recovering from the hike up the hill with my luggage. Being a smart guy (ehem..), I decided to walk the 3 km from the train station to my hostel in 85* weather. Although it was a pain, I'm somewhat glad I did. It gave me a bit of a feel for the location of my hostel, and it reminded me that I need to pack lighter next time.
This city isn't nearly as touristy as Athens, and in fact I have had a hard time finding people who speak more than a few words of English. This will definitely give me an opportunity to practice my Greek tomorrow, when I plan to wander farther from 'home'. Tonight's dinner mission almost ended in complete failure, due to my very elementary Greek (and terrible pronunciation) and the lack of English speaking restaurant owners. Although I'm certain I could get by at most of the places I skipped over, I'm too exhausted to try today. I found a gyro shop and managed to get my point across the highly amused owner.
I don't have any idea how I found my way home, I wandered probably 3-4 km toward downtown in search of food, nearly reaching the sea, before I turned around. Although I wasn't making a conscious effort to remember, I managed to exactly follow my footsteps back to the hostel.
The gyro, for the record, was not very good. It looked and tasted more like a bits of a roasted slab of bacon. But it was cheap and I'm not hungry anymore, so its not a complete loss. My first disappointing Greek dish! I suppose it had to happen at some point. I would have paid 10 Euro for a nice piece of spanakopita (which, also for the record, is about 5 times what it sells for at any one of a thousand small restaurants in Athens).
My hostel is really interesting, it seems to be a converted house of some sort, with beds placed in every room. It's a beautiful place, and the owners are very friendly. I can see the sea from the entrance, and once in a while I can hear a ship blow its fog horn before it departs.
Tomorrow I'm heading to the Thessaloniki Ano Poli (downtown) to see some of the ruins and hopefully find some better food!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Nafplio (Ναύπλιο)/ Palamidi Castle (Παλαμίδι)
Yes, this is picture overload - and trust me, I really wanted to post more. But the fact that free Blogger accounts only give you something like 1 GB of photo space means I'm going to have to start self-censoring.
Nafplio was the first capital of independent Greece in the early 1800's, and the town has been an important port for centuries. This is my first adventure on the Peloponnese peninsula, and words simply cannot describe what I saw there. The drive over on the bus was a trip in every sense of the word. Greek drivers, and bus drivers in particular, suffer from Evel Knievel syndrome. At least 4 times during our 2.5 hour trip from Athens to Nafplio, our bus was literally inches from the car in front of us, going around 80 km/ hr. Stop signs and lights are mere suggestions, and double yellow lines are just dares. I consider myself a good driver who knows the limits of his vehicle, and I don't think I could keep up with just an average Greek driver. One of their favorite games seems to be "squeeze the Renault through a space barely big enough for a motorcycle at 30km/hr and see who brakes first." Needless to say, few cars in Athens have both side view mirrors.
Once we got off the 'interstate' things calmed down a bit, our driver sort of took it easy and there was considerably less traffic. This didn't stop him from breaking a rear wheel on a mountain road. Apparently the fix for this in Greece is to kick the tire repeatedly, call it "malaka" a few times, then drive on, sticking your head out the window from time to time to make sure it's still attached.
The country roads were stunningly beautiful. They are mostly a mixture of olive groves, vineyards, and other various orchard type agricultural products. Stands on the side of the road sell watermelon, oranges, fresh pressed olive oil, and even fresh wine in what look like old 1.5 liter water bottles. There are tiny churches everywhere - in the 40 km of our route that wasn't on interstates, I probably saw 15 small churches or chapels. The Orthodox church here still seems very vibrant and powerful.
Nafplio's old town is similar in many ways to the Athens Plaka, with fewer overtly touristy gift shops and more small hotels and restaurants. We stopped first at the top of Palamidi Castle (Kastro Palamidi) where we got about an hour to wander. It is also possible to reach the castle from the old town by climbing a set of 999 stairs, a trek I made with a couple of the guys on the tour. We were rewarded with views that beat even those from the top of the castle. Visible in the bay is another one of Nafplio's 3 castles, called Bourtzi. On the small 'peninsula' of land sits Akronafplia fortress, now a hotel.
We also explored the only beach in Nafplio. Although consisting almost entirely of volcanic rock and almost no sand, it definitely ranks as my favorite beach of all time. The water was the perfect temperature, and the weather couldn't have been better if I'd chosen it myself. Warm with a slight breeze, cool enough to hike up a mountain but warm enough to enjoy a dip in the sea.
Besides, where else can you go to the beach, then wander old town, wearing only boxers and a backpack, without feeling too strange?
I have a minor sunburn, but it was definitely worth it, if only to see the strange pattern my Chakos left on my feet. It looks like Zorro attacked with a UV lamp.
Nafplio was the first capital of independent Greece in the early 1800's, and the town has been an important port for centuries. This is my first adventure on the Peloponnese peninsula, and words simply cannot describe what I saw there. The drive over on the bus was a trip in every sense of the word. Greek drivers, and bus drivers in particular, suffer from Evel Knievel syndrome. At least 4 times during our 2.5 hour trip from Athens to Nafplio, our bus was literally inches from the car in front of us, going around 80 km/ hr. Stop signs and lights are mere suggestions, and double yellow lines are just dares. I consider myself a good driver who knows the limits of his vehicle, and I don't think I could keep up with just an average Greek driver. One of their favorite games seems to be "squeeze the Renault through a space barely big enough for a motorcycle at 30km/hr and see who brakes first." Needless to say, few cars in Athens have both side view mirrors.
Once we got off the 'interstate' things calmed down a bit, our driver sort of took it easy and there was considerably less traffic. This didn't stop him from breaking a rear wheel on a mountain road. Apparently the fix for this in Greece is to kick the tire repeatedly, call it "malaka" a few times, then drive on, sticking your head out the window from time to time to make sure it's still attached.
The country roads were stunningly beautiful. They are mostly a mixture of olive groves, vineyards, and other various orchard type agricultural products. Stands on the side of the road sell watermelon, oranges, fresh pressed olive oil, and even fresh wine in what look like old 1.5 liter water bottles. There are tiny churches everywhere - in the 40 km of our route that wasn't on interstates, I probably saw 15 small churches or chapels. The Orthodox church here still seems very vibrant and powerful.
Nafplio's old town is similar in many ways to the Athens Plaka, with fewer overtly touristy gift shops and more small hotels and restaurants. We stopped first at the top of Palamidi Castle (Kastro Palamidi) where we got about an hour to wander. It is also possible to reach the castle from the old town by climbing a set of 999 stairs, a trek I made with a couple of the guys on the tour. We were rewarded with views that beat even those from the top of the castle. Visible in the bay is another one of Nafplio's 3 castles, called Bourtzi. On the small 'peninsula' of land sits Akronafplia fortress, now a hotel.
We also explored the only beach in Nafplio. Although consisting almost entirely of volcanic rock and almost no sand, it definitely ranks as my favorite beach of all time. The water was the perfect temperature, and the weather couldn't have been better if I'd chosen it myself. Warm with a slight breeze, cool enough to hike up a mountain but warm enough to enjoy a dip in the sea.
Besides, where else can you go to the beach, then wander old town, wearing only boxers and a backpack, without feeling too strange?
I have a minor sunburn, but it was definitely worth it, if only to see the strange pattern my Chakos left on my feet. It looks like Zorro attacked with a UV lamp.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Akropoli/Plaka
Today has been 'wander in the general vicinity of the Acropolis' day.
I also just got confirmation that my bag is on its way from London and should arrive between 4 and 7 AM tomorrow. Not too pumped about that wake up call but it will be nice to have actual luggage again.
For the most part, I couldn't provide a name for most of the things in my photographs. Alot of them were taken in a neighborhood about 2/3 of the way up the hill to the Parthenon. It's incredible that modern families live so close to ancient history. I suppose that's how most of Europe is, but it still amazes me.
There are also some Roman ruins near the Acropolis, namely the remains of a cistern, and some old home foundations.
My Greek has begun to show some hope. I'm still limited to very basic phrases and words, but I can order and pay for a meal almost entirely in Greek now. Getting used to "yes" and "no" is a bit of a challenge - Yes is "Nai" (pronounced neh) and No is "Oxi" (pronounced oh-khee). So when I accidentally revert to English and say "No", it often gets misinterpreted.
My writing is better after some sleep
So last night's barely comprehensible mess of a post left out alot of important details.
The excitement of being in a new place hasn't worn off yet, so it's probably too soon to say, but so far I love this place. I've gotten some vital help from unexpected places and for the most part everyone here has made me feel at home. My hostel is literally 300 meters from Acropolis Plaka, which is itself surrounded by restaurants and touristy shops. Perhaps not the most authentic area of town, but everyone speaks English, which is important right now. I'm staying in a place called Athens Backpackers, which oddly is run by Australians. I'm in a 6-person suite with its own shower and a mini-kitchen. I'm really impressed with the place, actually - it's extremely clean, reasonably quiet, and the staff is quite nice.
Today I am seeking out my luggage, so wish me luck!
The excitement of being in a new place hasn't worn off yet, so it's probably too soon to say, but so far I love this place. I've gotten some vital help from unexpected places and for the most part everyone here has made me feel at home. My hostel is literally 300 meters from Acropolis Plaka, which is itself surrounded by restaurants and touristy shops. Perhaps not the most authentic area of town, but everyone speaks English, which is important right now. I'm staying in a place called Athens Backpackers, which oddly is run by Australians. I'm in a 6-person suite with its own shower and a mini-kitchen. I'm really impressed with the place, actually - it's extremely clean, reasonably quiet, and the staff is quite nice.
Today I am seeking out my luggage, so wish me luck!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Day two, tecnically. Or, God works in mysterious ways
On a technicality I was actually awake for both days 1 and 2, with no sleep to separate them. Hooray time zones!
Today is also one of the finest examples of luck, coincidence, divine intervention, the good side of human nature, or whatever you prefer to call it, that I have been on the receiving end of.
My flight from London to Athens was rather unremarkable - only about a 3 hour flight that I mostly slept through. Toward the end when I was actually conscious I had a fascinating conversation with the fellow in the seat next to me, who just happened to be from near Athens. After talking about the language a bit, and getting a few tips on pronunciation, he explained that getting to the Acropolis area from the airport in anything but a cab was a somewhat difficult task for a non-Greek speaker. Lambros graciously volunteered to accompany me as far as my metro stop to make sure everything went smoothly.
Naturally, they didn't. British Aiways lost my main bag, so after 45 minutes of fighting with their desk (mostly me listening to my new friend fight in Greek), we got a receipt and a call back number and left the airport. From the airport there is a tram that takes you into Athens, within the reaches of the Athenian Metro system. However, our tram/metro swap station was apparently non functional, causing us to stop three stops farther away than expected. No problem with Lambros at the helm - we found the metro and boarded the proper train. Three stops later, the train stops and the conductor tells everyone in Greek that the line is non functional for one stop up the track, meaning that we needed to take a bus to board a train on the other side of the obstruction..
Anyway, after almost 2 hours on Athens public transport, I finally made it to my hotel, eternally indebted to a man I'd known for 15 minutes. I'm convinced that I would have ended up in Omonia (according to Lambros, even the police don't venture there) without help.
The Acropolis is an absolutely unreal sight in person. It is breathtaking in photographs but no picture could possibly convey the massive scale of the building. The lighting at night adds to the surreal effect, and even in my jetlagged and mentally exhausted state I couldn't resist taking a walk around the thing after a round of Dolmades (stuffed grape leaves) and another crash course in Greek courtesy of my waiter.
I'll add pictures when I'm in less danger of passing out from sleep deprivation.
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