To get to Greece, we take an overnight ferry. It turned out to be more of a cruise. Thank (the) god(s) we had the opportunity to impress some high schoolers with our impressive dance skills at the bar. Above, arbitrary scavenger hunt item achieved! Found cyclops in Greece.
Leaving Petras, Greece. To find our way into the city, we accomplish another arbitrary hunt point: find the Swede. Our kindly angel appears at a fish market to point us into the city proper, where, apparently, carnival was in full swing. A good deal of confetti + surprisingly delicious Coca-Cola/witch themed restaurant + surprise time zone change = a missed train, but soon enough another came and we were our way to Athens. (Was this the station where we met the Bulgarian woman in leopard?)
In Greece, we break out our sandals. We are far from Stockholm. (Above, night comes to us on the train.)
Frank: our wordsmith and crossword puzzle supplier. We curl in a corner of the train and work through a few puzzles by the fading light. In a little while, James will climb on a seat and bring the fury of every middle-aged women in Greece.
Some confusion at the train station. A prophetic run-in with an American from the Mid-West. Help from enthusiastic conductors. We wind up in the hotel district of Athens and rent a...hotel room that made up in humor what it lacked in comfort/function.
Another shot, from the bathroom sink built into the wall. The bathroom itself (down the hall) was capable only of spitting out water in showers of putridly cold, painful quantities. It nearly killed James. To escape our failing amenities, we retreat into the night, stumbling into a fabulous Indian restaurant and a hidden hotbed of local nightlife just around the corner from our adorable little sh*thole.
Ah, but we couldn't stay away from ancient ruins for too long. The next day, we head straight to the Acropolis, pausing only for a morning cup of joe from Starbucks. (This makes me cringe. But, it's a bit of a happy, caffeinated cringe. More of a tick, really. From the caffeine, I think. Happy caffeine.)
The Temenos of Dionysus
Frank (foreground) and James (midground)
Reviewing evidence of incredible architectural feats. Athens sprawls in the background.
Dionysus, Athens. Another view of the cityscape. 'Never seen anything like it.
James and Frank at the Odeum of Herodes
Closer: the Odeum
Up to the Propyla. We meet the herd.
Ever higher...
Propyla: column. Scale, once again, unimaginable.
Photo-op! Time to flex for the Parthenon.
Ye olde scaffolding.
The sanctuary of Pandrosus. The (one-time) home to statues of Zeus and donated olive trees.
Limestone
James over Western Athens
Frank takes the East
Looking down on the Sanctuary of Asciepius; lots of foundation and well-endowed statues sculpted without heads.
Drive-by on the Temple of Athena.
Another collage of the ancient and modern. (With a review of our journey to the top. Hi, Odeum!)
Storage
Erechtheum temple
Obligatory Caryatids-holding-stuff-up-at-the-Acropolis Shot
Another view of the "Maiden Porch" on the Temple
Detail, midground.
Back to the Propyla. Traveling back in time.
Do Not Touch
The hand on the hip is a nice touch.
Exiting the Acropolis. Oh, hey! It's our new friends! This was before they turned to offer us some less-than-legal "perspectives" on the upcoming Agora. We'll take a rain check.
The entrance to the Agora: mixing it up with a little dash of Byzantine.
Pardon the mess.
A surge of green. The reclamation of this space is slow-going, but Momma Earth is vigilant.
Strolling around the Middle Stoa. Not much going on at the market today.
still a force to be reckoned with
Looking at the belly of the Temple of Hephaistos.
Temple of Hephaistos is actually the most well-preserved temple surviving in Greece. (The more you know!)
I'm not quite sure about this....
Praise Athena. Outside the Agora Museum, located on what was once the Stoa of Attals. Within the colonnade there are a number of statues and busts and fallen pieces of stone in exhibition before one enters the museum proper.
Inside.
Back in modern Athens. The American's "prophecy" comes true (Hello, Mr. Joyce!). We experience some expert/confusing haggling. Lunch is a complete rip off and filled with more offers of roses and DVDs than we can handle. Prime ambling through open air markets leads us, eventually, to this series of epic, unflattering pictures. (Perhaps I should just speak for myself.) Anyway, here's James, getting a feel for his inner Spartan.
Frank, about to tear shit up.
Less fierce, more likely to fit another couple of heads in that helmet with me. Or, a clown nose. (The latter seems more appropriate.)
A new day. With limited time before our flight back to Stockholm--certainly not enough to make it to Sparta or up the divine sides of Mt. Olympus--we take a chance on a day-trip to Corinth. Greek casino in a vaguely historic place, you say? Let's do it. (James relaxes with a frappe before the train.)
Frank, obscured by sun. We even brought our bathing suits with us for the trip. We were so young, so foolish...
Terror strikes: At the cafe, James had made a show of drinking what truly was an impressive amount of water. Of course, in his feat of colossal hydration, James neglected to calculate the length of the train ride. With no bathroom in sight, a desperate James suggested an impromptu adventure into the Greek country side (read: he ran off of the train). Reprieved, the three of us took a stroll around a neat, little, middle-of-nowhere town. Past some strange dogs, elaborate gates, lemon trees, and vibrant colored houses, we came to a tinsy local store. Plastic baseball bats; rice; dollar-store ice cream. Three ice creams, please! Frank, newly equipped with a magic wand from his popsicle, had wanted to find some Greek goats from the start. Good thing we got off that train.
We had an hour until the next train.
Back to the station. Screaming about flies while we wait. At this point, we still believe that we'll make it to that Casino. We also still believe that there were no bathrooms on the train. The latter, we soon discover, is definitely wrong.
Corinth. Another discovery: although all three of us are more than old enough to drink and to gamble in Greece, not one of us is old enough to make it into the casino. Well, okay, perhaps the Frank that is from New Mexico may have cut it. We don't push the issue. But, our stomachs push us. Too bad we're too young to make it into the gosh darn cafeteria. Starving, we stumble outside to make a quick third discovery: we are in the No Man's Land of Corinth (assuming there *is* a Some Man's Land somewhere)...There's pretty much...nothing...around. We hike a few miles by the highway/roadside before we find a hilariously bad restaurant where we have something of a David-Lynchian dining experience. No, we don't want cheese on our pasta...Oh, god! Please don't hurt us! (Above, on the road to nowhere.)
Leaving the restaurant without much of a grip on how to return to the train station (head back to the casino...?), we take a detour back to the ocean.
Time to throw some rocks.
Catharsis.
The sun slips away to let us to work things out on our own. Of course, we make it back to Athens, enjoy a final evening full of Greek karaoke, funny hats, and sweet tunes at a tapas bar before flying back to Stockholm in the morning. But, first, a toast...and another cup of Starbucks for the road...
