Why are we in Athens?

  Athens, Greece
Monday, September 24, 2007

It turns out that Greece was not the wildly popular destination we had been seeking. Nor was it a very practical one, given the likes and the particular dislikes of our little ensemble.
 
Our group consisted of Linda's brother Ted and his wife Marlene, who reside in Perth, Australia; Linda's sister Paula and her husband Malcolm, from Burlington, Ontario; and the afore-mentioned Linda and yours truly, from Simcoe.
 
This group has had some experience traveling together, with journeys to Oahu and Maui and to Spain and Portugal on our resumes. These trips primarily feature self-directed viewing of great wonders, serendipitous discovery of hidden places (we get lost a lot), enjoying indigenous cuisine and the sampling of local and various grape-derived products.
 
The Paula had returned from a wedding in Perth a while back and reported that Marlene had expressed a wish to visit Greece. We felt that we owed Marlene one because she has, in the past, shown some impatience when following agendas driven by others. So Greece it was.
 
Every person we spoke to, who had been to Greece and its islands, reported with great enthusiasm about the experience. Without exception. So our journey should have been a home run.
 
But there were problems. Marlene reported early in the journey that she had not particularly wanted to go to Greece. So here we were making our agenda hers - again.  Paula does not like heights - Greece is 65% mountains. Paula does not like to travel by boat - 5 days of our 15-day adventure involved staying on islands, between which we traveled by boat; four days were aboard a cruise ship. I personally did not have a strong desire to go to Greece, having been "Mediterraneaned out" in Portugal. Neither Ted nor I particularly enjoy SHOPPING but this activity was about to take on a huge role in our journey. Little problems.
 
Nevertheless, our intrepid band of voyagers gathered at the "Hotel Kaningos 21" in downtown Athens late on the morning of September 24, 2007, having journeyed there from opposite extremes of the globe. (By the way - Kaningos is apparently Greek for "I can't go" because nothing in the hotel seemed to work.)
 
By far the most harrowing part of our trip was the ride into Athens from the airport. One reads about the traffic in Athens but nothing prepares for the reality. Rush hour traffic entering the city on the expressway out-jumbled Toronto's Queen Elizabeth Way by an order of magnitude. It took more than two terror-filled hours for our bus to make the 35-minute drive. Once we were off the expressway things just went nuts. It seems the only traffic rule in Athens is survival.
 
There were cars, busses, trucks, motorcycles and motor scooters everywhere, and everywhere bobbing, weaving, honking, gesticulating and shouting - on the street, on the median and on the sidewalks. Vehicles would park anywhere, by the curb, near the curb, on top of the curb and, yes, on the sidewalk - which appeared to be the only reason other vehicles weren't driving there. It was not unusual to see, disgorging from a side street that was maybe 15 feet wide, three or four rows abreast of cars, trucks and bikes each trying madly to turn left or right through another three to four rows of oncoming traffic. We were to discover that pedestrians are simply fair game.
 
The National Archeological Museum was only a few blocks from our hotel so after a quick nap we headed there. It turned out to be an excellent way to start our Greek experience, although we wouldn't really begin to understand what we were seeing until later in the trip. Statuary in stone, marble and bronze were spellbinding. Carefully polished, centuries-old marble has a radiance that gets into your head and will not leave. I remain smitten by Aphrodite.
 

The Little Jockey

The galleries went on and on, each as stunning in its own way as the one before it. Artistry in gold, terra cotta, bronze and marble, some dating to 1700 BC, dazzled the eye and delighted the imagination.
 
Be that as it may, there is only so much that a sleep-deprived, jet-lagged mind can absorb. At one point I was standing next to a plate-sized gold object and can remember seeing it out of the corner of my eye. Fatigue was setting in, however, and I didn't have the energy to go and have a closer look. The next day at Mycenae I learned that it was thought to be the golden death mask of King Agamemnon, and that it had been found in the very site we were visiting. I would like to have gone back to the Museum to see it again.