Greece is the Word

After four days in Mykonos, including a day at Super Paradise beach, we are back in Athens. Mykonos was fantastic, and the day we spent at Super Paradise Beach the crowning glory of the visit. It seems that in Mykonos, unlike in Santorini, boardshorts win, but there's a dark horse entry--the full monty male nudity. For some reason Philip wasn't snapping photos of those blokes for the blog!

No surprise that Super Paradise is tricked out to be a major party spot--full outdoor restaurant, bar, dance floor, hidden sitting alcoves all overlooking a spectacular beach with a beautiful, warm, crystal blue sea. After the odd red beach in Santorini and the rock beach in Nice, we were thrilled to have real sand under our feet.

What Happens in Mykonos Stays in Mykonos

Shagadelic Mykonos

Having survived another ferry ride in the Aegean Sea (Poseidon going rather lightly on us this time), we arrived on the island of Mykonos, 5 miles from one of the most sacred of the Greek islands: Delos, birthplace of Apollo and Artemis. Very different from Santorini, Mykonos is flat in comparison and very cosmopolitan. We're staying at a shagadelic hotel that harkens back to the early 70's when Jackie O. and Brigitte Bardot made Mykonos their playground. The Theoxenia Hotel is in fact the lovingly refurbished hotel of the 70's that such luminaries frequented. You expect Truman Capote and Andy Warhol to walk in at any moment. The decor is very Austin Powers and overall it's a wonderful, luxurious place, right near the famous Mykonos windmills and a short walk from the island's town center.

But for those of us interested in the Greek myths, Mykonos is a very special place. Delos is considered to be the center of the Cyclades islands of Greece--they in fact "cycle" around Delos. And Mykonos is reputedly where Hercules slew the giants--and their petrified bodies are still discernible as the magnificent rocks you see all around.

Having lived in a cave 200 meters above the watery crater of the Santorini volcano, it's nice to be right on the water again, hearing the waves on the shores, seeing the colorful fishing boats up close, and even hanging out with the enormous pelican that appears to be the island's mascot--he walks through the town like he owns the place.

So far we are content to lounge by the super cool pool (with its own islands), slurping fruit and honey smoothies and occasionally dragging ourselves into town for some food, shopping, exercise. Philip is still wondering if he should trade in his boardshorts for the European options...please someone talk some sense to him!

It really wasn't chicken! (And other stories from a vegetarian perspective.)

Hey, it's Clare! The pescetarian! (Which, in case you don't know, is a veggo that eats fish... ironically I actually hate most fish except salmon and haddock) Here to give you the incredibly stupid stories that come with being the aforementioned eater. (These aren't in any particular order...)

1st: In Athens we ordered room service the first and second nights- first night I got some "vegetarian" pasta which, after I ate half of it, was pretty sure had chicken in it. I refused to eat the rest. The second night I got the same, clearly telling the room service people that I DID NOT WANT MEAT. When are food came up, chicken was in it. I refused to eat a bite, but Dad, not wanting me to faint, took all the pieces out, what an awesome Dad.

Turns out, now we are in Mykonos, it wasn't chicken! It was this Greek Island cheese that needs to be grilled so it has the same consistency and shape and look as chicken. I knew it tasted like cheese!

2nd: In Tewkesbury, I looked at the menu and there was nothing but meat and some fish, so I decided to be 'wild' and try Lemon Sole. When I told the waiter I was veggo, he made a crossing sign with his fingers and slowly backed away, saying "nt, nt, nt!" what a strange fellow.

3rd: I mistakenly thought proscuitto was a type of cheese, when Dad told me it wasn't, I was very upset.

And always there have been stuff like, WHAT WILL I EAT???? I AM GOING TO FAINT HERE!!!!!!!! And simply having to eat pasta every night. Also I am frequently saying,

Me: "I'll have the ceasar salad, without the chicken and bacon, please. Is that all right?"

Waiter: "Hmmm..."

Mom: "She's a vegetarian."

Waiter: "Ahhh. I'll see what I can do. And what would you like for a main course?"

Me: "The salmon, please."

Waiter: "I see..." (I attract dubious looks from the waiter.)

I am being labled as: "The vegetarian that eats fish" Sometimes I feel like yelling, "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a pescetarian before?"

Boardshorts or...?

Today we hired a small car, all crammed in & went for a tour around Santorini. Its not a big place, but with small roads, the occasional donkey train, buses stopping for pick-ups, it can take a while to drive even the 20km from one end to the other. But we did & one thing we wanted to check out was the "Red Beach" - a beach on the south side of the island with impossibly red sand - from the volcanic rocks of the cliffs above the beach. It did not disappoint - nice warm water, unusual "sand" and great people watching. Speaking of which, I've started to wonder (this is Philip, btw) - should I ditch the boardshorts & adopt a more euro-style of beachwear? I'll poll answers...


(Note the package here - David [of Florence fame] would be jealous)

Cave-Dwellers

More of the same here on Santorini--but today we tooled around the island to get a sense of its shape and culture. We checked out the "red" beach on the flat side, which is a mixture of red rocks and black lava--the water temperature and clarity were perfect, and the sea appears to be teeming with fish. The girls were able to catch them in their hands. This on top of the vines laden with grapes hanging down in restaurants makes Santorini a veritable Garden of Eden. The many honeymooners probably see it that way too until our kids go running by. I guess they thought they'd be safe from urchins in September. Think again. We did some laundry too (hopefully the last of it until we hit Whale Beach in Australia).

The Greek government just banned smoking in public places, but people are still lighting up in restaurants and on patios near ours at the hotel. You forget how obnoxious second-hand smoke is, especially when you expect to be inhaling deep breaths of good clean sea air.

Another idiosyncrasy we noticed in Greece is the number of stray animals--cats, kittens, dogs or all shapes and sizes. There's a sweet little pack of stray dogs that says hello to us near Thira. And when we were in Athens, Isabella counted something like 12 sleeping dogs between our hotel and the Acropolis; and some of them hang out in and around the Acropolis. They all seem nice and harmless. Of course, I want to take them home.

Lovely hot weather today--gearing up for Australia!

The Cauldron

As referred to on the prior post, we're sitting on the edge of the caldera, site of the 2nd largest volcanic eruption in the last 20million years or so. Must have been quite a bang. For us, of course, it means that we have some of the most sublime views you could ever ask for. The tourist industry of course takes full advantage of the setting - a tremendous concentration of hotels, restaurants, cafes are built into the cliffs, seemingly hanging on to the very edge of the precipice. I guess some have been here for dozens of years, so absent another eruption, they'll be here for a while longer. But you do wonder when you gaze over the railings...

Much needed R&R for the family. Our days consist of a late, lazy breakfast, some reading, playing, maybe a walk into town, 30 minutes contemplating where to have dinner - ie, island life. Not a bad place to relax.

Poseidon's Revenge--On Philip's Birthday

The god with the powerful trident got us back for worshipping Athena at the Acropolis. A very bouncy, wavy 5 hour ferry ride to Santorini gave Sid and Emmett serious mal de mer. Yuck--and on Philip's birthday, too. The birthday boy was stuck being nurse to the sickies for much of the day. As he says, though, how bad can it be when eventually you're on Santorini? Pretty bad, actually. We owe him a better birthday. Today he's sentenced to sleeping on a lounge chair in the sun with an umbrella drink.

So here we are in Paradise, studying geology now, having moved on from history. Santorini is an island formed by a volcano that erupted 3,600 years ago whose crater sank into the ocean. As Clare tells us, Plato thought that Santorini was Atlantis and that there's a city down in 400 meters of water in the Caldera of the island. The Caldera derives from the English word "cauldron," and you can see in our photos why it is aptly named.

We are on the edge of the Caldera, sleeping in a "cave" hotel that's built right into the side of the volcano--windows facing the water--but the deeper into the apartment you go, the darker and cave-ier it gets. The hotel Andromeda is clearly meant for honeymooners; we get the occasional curled lip when our children run around (hey, think of it as natural birth control you honeymooners), and the hotel's soundtrack is full of Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Bryan Adams love songs. It can get a little tiresome. Luckily we downloaded the premiere of Glee onto the laptop for a healthy dose of satire.

Clare informs us (who is home-schooling who?) that Santorini was the second biggest volcanic eruption in history. The first was Toba in Indonesia 75,000 years ago, an eruption that killed all but between 2,000 and 20,000 humans on earth. Sobering stuff. Someone said that they expect Santorini to rear up again, maybe in 150 years. Hope it's not while we're here.

Looks like I will never be one of those retirees who takes cruises through all the beautiful spots in the world. Thanks, Poseidon.

May all to Athens back again repair...

The seat of reason, knowledge, wisdom--it's Athens in spectacular fashion. We have perfect weather, no crowds (just funny looks and comments from people wondering why our children are not in school), but too little time! Even so, this post will be a little more detailed than the others because we know our friends the Bourotoglous are reading and wondering how we're finding this city they love and know very well.

First things first: last night, as I was sitting in our private jacuzzi, pondering the outlines of the Acropolis in the distance, I was remembering how Shakespeare uses Athens as a setting in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Oh, I'll spare you the lecture. I just wanted to write a sentence like that and for it to be true! And it is, gloriously so. We're staying in the Periscope, a very small boutique hotel, so small that we have the entire top floor, its roof-deck hot tub, and a full-on view of the Acropolis. It's a place for the poet, the lunatic, and the lover, as Theseus says in AMSND. Well, we all five of us are sleeping in the same room, so maybe more the poet and lunatic than the lover.

But I should focus on Ancient Greece, not Shakespeare. Because of large protests over the new austerity measures of the Greek government, we walked to the Acropolis this morning, through the National Gardens (past some Greek soldiers all geared up and high-stepping in fine style). When we got across the park, we realized that, due to the protests, only one gate was open (the one whereby we entered), so we did what seemed right--we squeezed the children through the fencing and climbed over the top ourselves. As one fellow fence-jumper said, "welcome to Greece."

From there we walked by the Temple of Zeus (see second photo) and then around the Acropolis mound to its entrance and into the hallowed grounds of the various temples and theaters. Wow. To see where the Ancient Greeks performed Oedipus and Lysistrata, to see where Athena and Poseidon supposedly battled it out for "patron god," and to see the Agora where Socrates and later, St. Paul spoke all within a few kilometers is an unparalleled experience. It's like seeing Stonehenge, Westminster Abbey, The Globe, and Buckingham Palace all in the same space. We soaked it in--noting the crevice where Poseidon drew salt water for the mortals but was beaten by Athena's more apt olive tree (the Erechtheion), the ingenius Doric columns of the Parthenon, and the seats of the Odeon. We took in the views of Athens framed by the columns all around--the masses of white houses, the sea, and the mountains. What a spot.

To top it off, we had lunch at the perfect Greek cafe outdoors in the shade in the area known as the Plaka--lots of cafes and shops and we could hear the vociferous protest in the background. Everything here is much cheaper than in the rest of Europe, and you can bargain. Philip negotiated a rate for us to get from the airport to the hotel--at one point the driver walked away, but he came running back when Philip called his bluff.

After the Acropolis and lunch, we took a tour of the new Acropolis Museum where the more precious original bits of the ruins are better protected. Here we saw 5 of the 6 Caryatids (gorgeous female figures that were sculpted 2400 years ago--no biggie) that hold up part of the Erechtheion. The missing one is in the British Museum with the infamous Elgin Marbles, other bits of the Acropolis that were taken out of Greece and rediscovered in the UK. Lord Elgin is responsible for the removal, some would say kidnapping, of the Caryatid as well as the Marbles. It's a very sore topic here in Athens since the British Government has refused to return anything. Clare, for one, is particularly outraged. I know that the original Winnie-the Pooh and Friends stuffed animals reside in the New York Public Library--and the British Government wants them back. But A.A. Milne gave them to his editor, who happened to be American, and the NYPL is keeping them. But old stuffed animals compared to a 6-foot ancient statue and parts of ancient government buildings and temples?

Anyway, the museum objets are ancient and priceless and very carefully and lovingly preserved and displayed. The museum itself is a marvel with its windowed facade looking directly up at the Acropolis, so you can imagine the friezes and statues in their intended context. Plus it's air-conditioned, which must be a relief for the tourists in June, July, and August.

We did some souvenir shopping; Emmett is very keen on Poseidon, so he got a little statue of the water god, and Isabella got some worry beads (no comment necessary), but we found that the shopkeepers did not like us touching the wares, even super cheap kitschy things. We got yelled at twice. We also suspect that Greeks do not think of chicken as meat. Clare the vegetarian twice ordered vegetarian pasta and got, both times, a concotion with bits of chicken. This after we urged them to double-check and noted the dish had to be vego. Conclusion: chicken is not meat in Greece. John B., is this true?

We ended up back at the hotel in the late afternoon and watched the sun set behind those huge and glorious Doric columns. Tomorrow is an early rise as we take the boat to Santorini and live for 4 days on a volcano!

Munching in Munchen

It's the first day of Oktoberfest here in Munich, not that we knew or planned for it. This explains the traditional dress on all the Austrians and Germans and now on tourists (not us). The Germans call the drunken Oktoberfest tourists beer-corpses, and we saw one last night at dinner, completely passed out at the table. Philip rode up on the elevator with some guy who smelled really funky and did not know where he was, and then later he saw 4 men in kilts and rugby shirts headed for the beer tents. Fun times.

You have to give the Germans credit, though, for their environmentalism. Solar panels are everywhere--on barns, on houses, in cities, in the country. Americans tend to think it's too cold in the Northeast for panels, but not so--it's already pretty chilly here, and those panels are obviously worth it. The top photo here shows you the typical house in the countryside of Germany--house with barn attached and those awesome photo-voltaics.

Clare and Philip left at the crack of dawn for the world's largest science museum (the Louvre of science museums)! Isabella, Emmett, and I are hanging out in the hotel using the high speed internet (yay!) and packing. We're down to 3 suitcases, having sent several more boxes on to Australia. Shouldn't need much in Greece. Second photo is of Clare in the museum of her dreams...

The Hills Are Alive . . .

. . . in the town of Saltzburg (la la la la). Took in the city via horse-drawn carriage (driven by the crustiest, most incomprehensible Austrian man), walked by Mozart's haunts (birthplace, family home, favorite cafe), shopped for Isabella (who cannot live another day with her clothes), and then ascended the funicular to the medieval fortress. Everything looks familiar from The Movie--the convent, the cathedral, fountains, etc..., and strangely lots of people wear traditional Austrian garb. We kept thinking there was a parade or some sort of costume requirement for work, but no--some people really wear the dirndl and lederhosen. Okaaay. The city is addicted to caffeine--not only Viennese coffee but also Red Bull (whose inventor hails from Salzburg). The weather here has been a little crummy--something new for us. In the whole 7 weeks of travel, we haven't had a real rainout. Some isolated showers (in London and Florence) and maybe a day of drizzle (in Scotland), but nothing to keep us idle. Here, it's dreary and a bit cold. Must almost be time to go South again!

Schlossing in Bavaria

Took in King Ludwig's pads (top one, a 19th c rebuild on medieval ruins; the other a 19-c. attempt to out-do all other castles and inspire Walt Disney)--and his obsession with the Middle Ages and Wagnerian Opera. Autumn is in the air--the trees are changing but the flowers are still blooming. Ended the day in Salzburg, Austria where we hope to learn something about Mozart and sing "Do Re Mi". Passing the mountain of Hitler's Eagle's Nest raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

Four Countries, One Day

Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, Germany. A record for us. Philip discovered the joys and terrors of the German Autobahn (minivans were passing him doing over 100 mph), and Emmett discovered the joys and terrors of playing with Swiss school children.

If you see a group of Swiss children coming at you, run the next direction. We took the cable car up Mount Pilatus so Clare and Isabella could do more of that Tarzan stuff they like (zip lines, tightrope walking, lumberjacking up a tree, negotiating suspended logs) at the midstation, but Emmett only had eyes for the playground where after bounding around yelling, "dude, that was awesome," he was rather viciously bullied by some Swiss boys. Was it anti-Americanism or just jack-booted thuggery? The kids were all under 10. Scary.

How incongruous for this to happen on a beautiful mountain populated by cows munching on emerald-green grass, softly ringing their cow bells in the mist. Well, it's a weird place--myth has it that a dragon rock fell from the sky forming the mountain, that giants once lived there, and that Pontius Pilate is buried there. So random. What was he doing there? And why did they name the mountain after him? At any rate, we ascended the obligatory Swiss Alp.

Once in the car and on that Autobahn, we zipped over to Bavaria to our hotel nestled between two of King Ludwig's castles--Neuschwanstein and Hohenschwangau--very pretty as you'll see in the next post.

Swiss Alps

Philip figures that we have eaten dinner in 43 different restaurants in Europe. But we're moving into Germanic territory, and we're a bit worried about the culinary shift.

For now, we're in Luzern, Switzerland near Zurich. It's about a 2 hour drive from Lake Como but we stopped near Lake Lugano for some outlet shopping (Emmett did very well--we're all so sick of our clothes at this point) and then to chase down the elusive Harry Potter tome. The drive was easy--the Swiss just tunnel through mountains to make roads, so only a few curves and no real up and down. One tunnel we drove through was 16 km. We arrived in Luzern by suppertime, staying right on the lake and looking out over snow-capped mountains. Yodel-ay-hee-hoo!

Easy Como, easy go..mo

A lovely relaxing day in Como. George (Clooney) was meant to have us down to his villa, but I guess he had some sort of scheduling conflict, which left us with a free day. Some R&R by the pool, catching up on reading, planning, plotting.

We had a quest...to find the 4th & 5th harry Potter books. Isabella had to have them, would die without reading these tomes. After striking out in Florence & Venice, we found a bookstore in a suburb of Lugano (Ch) that has the 4th, in English - go figure. So tomorrow we are off, on our quest, fingers crossed. Stay tuned (the kids just watched Monty Python & the Holy Grail, so everything now is about quests).

But back to Como. Later in the afternoon we mosied further up the lake to Mennagio & hired a small boat for a little cruise. The views from the water are stupendous - lovely villas, beautiful gardens, the palaces that have featured in various recent films (Oceans 12, a recent James Bond movie). Even if George (Clooney) could not meet us, we felt like we belonged. Kind of. Well, maybe not, but we could pretend. Seriously, this place is kind of magical & very relaxing after some hectic days in the cities. Much to the kids' relief, not a castle or church in sight. OK, there were some churches, but we only took photos from the outside. By unaminous consent, we would all come back here.

Lake Mario Cuomo

(view from our apartment in the Albergo Lenno)

Oh I know the real name--Lago di (Perry) Como--but for some reason I keep calling it Lake Cuomo. The travelling whirlwind is starting to get to me. But how nice now to relax in the peace and quiet of Lake Como--beautiful weather, no crowds, no souvenir stands, no city smells...it's very low key, but gorgeous (am I sounding like a broken record yet?).

We got a chance to watch 2 sets of the Men's US Open final (you go, Rafa), and Philip was able to nurse his swimmer's ear, which he contracted in Portovenere but is not going away. I finished the Steig Larsson books.

Of interest here--a villa used in a James Bond movie, Mussolini's last stand, lots of churches and bell towers, vestiges of Roman occupation, and the birthplace of Pliny (the elder and younger).

Venezia is Not Sinking

In 1973 we were told that Venice was sinking and would not survive another 20 years. Thankfully that turned out not to be true, but the city still hangs by a thread, only this time financially. The population here has dropped precipitously since 1950, so tax revenues are poor and the city is bankrupt. The mayor has made some controversial but necessary decisions including plastering billboards on tourist sights--an ad for Moet on San Marco Square and an ad for Bulgari on The Bridge of Sighs. He has to allow the enormous schweinsteiger cruise ships into the port (and they go right past San Marco) because of all those tourist dollars. Unfortunately, this means the buildings continue to be damaged by the pollution and boat wakes.

We try to focus on the positives--it is a Renaissance city and feels like it. There are very few hints of modernism here (apart from motorboats), and where else can you find that?

Since we have had the best weather (crystal clear September days), we stayed outside much of the time (although we did hit the Accademia museum to see those elusive Titians, but not very enthusiastically). Then Philip and I did the unthinkable--got a babysitter and went out to dinner at Da Fiore (recommended by Elizabeth and Lee Roesch--I forgot to mention that we SAW Lee in Florence; she arrived just as we were leaving). After a massive plate of fish, we took the Vaporetto (boat bus) to the Basilica, listened to our favorite foxy female quintet play some Strauss, then strolled back to the hotel. Our last night in Venice. Sniff.