Greece, Cruising

Post 1 of . . .

Just got back on the 22nd from a fabulous 12-night round trip cruise from Barcelona to Messina, Sicily to Corfu, Greece to Istanbul, Turkey to Athens, Greece to Palermo, Sicilty. It’s 3 a.m. Sunday morning, and I am naturally, still on Europe time. This was my second trip to Athens, and so we were able to stay clear of most tourist spots and be more adventurous. The best way to rub shoulders with the local population is to do the things they do, which in our case included riding the local trains, walking the back alleys and discovering interesting places on our own. We did this in Barcelona as well where, in fact, in the fall of 2010, we stayed in a rented apartment (in one instance along with friends) for a week split in two parts. I wrote about this experience soon after I returned. The highlight of such an adventure this time was climbing to the highest point in Athens, the Lycabettus Hill (http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/Europe/Greece/Prefecture_of_Attica/Athens-426812/Things_To_Do-Athens-Lycabettus_Hill-BR-1.html), where the tiny 19th century St. George’s church holds the most spectacular 360 degree panoramic view of Athens. At a distance, you can look down on the dwarfed Parthenon. Your hands get tired from photographing the breathtaking view. It’s one stop east on the train (the blue line) from Syntagma Square station near the parliament. Don’t try to walk it because the distance could be considerable if you’re pressed for time.

Rumors about the threat of strike flew about. But, we followed our instincts, bought a day pass for 4 euros each and took the train (green line) from the pier in Piraeus, went to the Plaka (Monistiraki Metro stop), walked around a bit, visited the well-tended (no sign of any economic distress was evident) National Garden next to the Parliament dotted with several school children shepherded by an adult presumably their teacher and then went to Lycabettus (station name: Evengelismos). Really a rewarding experience. Walking the back alleys of this hilly area to get to the hill top, we also heard the most amazing soulful accordion music which sounded inspired by the beauty of the leafy shady streets. I followed the sound and found the player. He was a young soulful looking guy who seemed to be enjoying himself playing the accordion. I gave him some change as most street musicians expect this of the passers by.

This solitary tranquility was contrasted by Greece’s present angry mood illustrated by its mounting uncollected garbage in every street corner. The scenes we saw on TV the next day made us realize how lucky we were that the one day we were in town Greece was open for business. It shut down the next day.

We did encounter reminders of the country’s mood through a few demonstrations and loud angry music blaring from the Finance Ministry across from the Parliament. The Plaka was lined with security personnel on the ready, guns and rifles in hand. On two separate instances, I saw at least a couple of women each, Madonna-like, with a child sitting on the sidewalk with stretched out hands hoping for some coins from passers by and even one young couple looking emaciated asking for handout from passers by. This felt like a true Greek tragedy. By the same token, some con artists also roamed the streets. For instance, while we waited for our order at a restaurant, four well-dressed guys showed up with musical instruments and one burly guy among them with handsome face, purportedly the leader, belted out a few lines of Never on a Sunday in Greek and then within seconds with a sense of entitlement came around with a hat and extended it to the patrons with a sense of entitlement. Without blinking an eyelid, I parted with an euro but soon kicked myself because the bandits moved on to the next set of suckers without finishing the song which was my expectation as I myself was midway along with them. Later, I felt better when an Internet cafe operator who would sell me only half hour time for 2 euros but not fifteen minutes for one euro, which is all the time I could spare, within seconds changed his mind and let me use his free time when he realized that I needed to check just my e-mail needing no more than three minutes max. And he spoke excellent English.

Next, a better experience awaited me at the train station. Monistiraki Metro stop is a busy station. It’s like a hub. We had to take the train station. Signs were not clearly marked and everything was in Greek. As we tried figuring out which way to go, I decided to ask someone who might understand English. I got lucky right away. I went up to a young man (he turned out to be just fifteen) with virgin facial hair coming up the stairs and he said, "follow me." We did. We had to walk quite a bit and then at the platform not only was it very crowded (it was around three p.m.) but the train we had to take was supposed to be on the track on the other side. It turned out that only one set of tracks was operating. So when the train on our tracks arrived, the young man spoke to another person on the platform and came back and informed us that the train would return after the next and last stop and then it would go to Piraeus, our destination. So we waited for this to happen but when the train returned it did not stop at our station.

The young man (Jim; real name, Dimitris) was very apologetic saying he had misunderstood. Anyway, another train packed with people and going in the opposite direction arrived soon enough and all three of us managed to get in. After it went up to the terminus it changed direction toward Piraeus. We even managed to get seats. I remarked to Jim that we were lucky to get seats. Calmly he said that we were alert. I was impressed with this take.

During the next twenty-minute ride I asked Jim many questions and he asked me some, too, and when he heard we were from New York, his eyes lit up and he said that this is one place he dreams of visiting one day. I retorted that Greece was such a lovely place where I found excellent workmanship. No, I was not referring to their Parthenon. I took out a pair of comfortable suede pumps I had bought that morning at the Plaka and showed them off to him. He said Greeks liked American things very much. He sported a nice horizontal-striped stylish water-resistant jacket over his denim trousers and I asked about the jacket and he said it was the Fox Brand and I think he had Adidas sneakers. At one point, he wanted to see a dollar bill. B had one and he showed it to Jim and also asked to keep it as good luck. Jim refused but B insisted and then Jim took it, examined it, looked happy and put it away. A perceptive guy, Jim asked me why I insisted that he take the money with his right hand. Without going into any cultural angle to it, B said that right hand was supposed to bring good luck. Jim smiled.

At one point, Jim in his halted English asked if young men were big and muscled in the U.S. He himself was of a slight built. As a mother of two sons, I could relate to his interest in this subject. He also thought they were all gangsters, which I just didn’t get. Anyway, we corrected his misperception and Jim smiled again. I gave him my e-mail id and he said he’d like to "facebook" me and so I gave him my correct name. When we parted company, it felt sad. We gave each other a hug and in the European style, Jim planted a kiss on both my cheeks and shook hands with B. I saw him on the 18th and on the 22nd when I opened my e-mail since the 18th, I found Jim’s Facebook invite. Of course, I accepted. The best part of travel in bumping into interesting strangers like Jim and, on a cruise, actually making some long-time friends.

More later, starting with Messina the home of Mt. Etna and Taormina, a place that I really loved.

Ciao!