Our final day

I began the morning with a great swim. The water was as smooth as a bathtub, and I had it almost to myself. So, I just lay back, closed my eyes and listened to the water trickling over the pebbles. Half an hour of this behaviour, and I was the most relaxed I have been in ten years. Even now I can use this memory to unwind…

Of course, there were things to be getting on with. Having decided to do a bit of tourist stuff on the way back to Mytilini port, we had to head off just after brunch.

First stop was the Petrified Forest. The oldest fossils therein are 20 million years old, and it is the largest and most significant petrified forest in the world. The species of pine and sequoia unearthed here no longer grow anywhere in Europe or the Mediterranean. Most fascinating of all, is that two petrified forests exist - the second having grown over the first about 7 million years ago. Wow.

Overall, I was torn between either thinking this was pretty cool or wondering why I was clambering over a wasteland looking at rocks:


Although, this one looks like a face:


From the forest we drove to Kalloni and the Limonos monastery. We had seen this on our first day’s driving, but were too lost to stop:


This time, we had the leisure to check out the cute buildings, and the nice courtyard. Parts of the complex are closed to women, but Lucy took some covert shots of one of the chapels:


Back on the road, we were full steam ahead to Mytilini port. We arrived with enough time to explore a bit, so I walked to the other end of town to buy takeaway Ouzo and snap a picture or two:




The place was pretty damn charming, and it would have been interesting to spend a few days there. But, not this time.

Another fifteen hour trip later, we were back in Lewisham unwrapping souvenirs and already missing the sunshine.

An amazing trip.

North by northwest

On our first full day in Skala Eressos, Lucy and I hung out on deckchairs all day at the private end of the beach:


It is a topless sort of place, but that was easy enough to get used to. So, we just relaxed on the shore with occasional forays into the village to buy Mythos beer (E1 a litre), fresh fruit and kebabs.

We had plans to splash out on our first festival event – an open air jazz concert in the village gardens. But, everything here is on Mediterranean time and, at the hour when the concert would have been starting up (10pm), my beloved and I were fast asleep after aforementioned hard day’s slog in the sunshine.

In contrast, the next day was action stations.

After a minor panic over appearing to have run out of money (damn useless UK banks), Lucy and I decided it was time to see more of the island. We headed to the 'city' of Molyvos, in northern Lesbos:



It is indeed a cute place. We decided to head uphill to the castle and a view of Turkey. It was closed for renovations, but Captain Wheeler turned rebel and lead me over some broken fencework at the back. The view was pretty good:


After clambering down, we made the short drive to Eftalou and Lucy was baptised by the choppy waters of St Agnassious’ beach:


The water was refreshing, but the offshore wind was pretty bad, and the gravely beach not fun at all. So, we picked our way back across the stones and ducked into the tiny hot pool complex for a dip.

The hot spring has been here since ancient times and is supposed to cure rheumatism, sciatica, skin diseases and heart problems. The idea is to start with a swim in the ocean and then sit in the 45’ water until one can’t take it, then splash on the beach before again immersing oneself until it gets too hot etc etc. One must finish with a cold swim and not spend more than an hour in the spring altogether.

Not only was I massively too sunburnt to be near anything with the word 'hot' in the title, but I wasn’t that keen on sharing my water with those sorts of disorders. However, because she is made of much sterner stuff than I, Lucy loved it. This kind of masochism also seems to attract wrinkly and topless eastern Europeans; I had to wait a while before getting a picture without too many of them in it:


The time passed very pleasantly, but the approaching sunset meant we needed to leave so as not to get lost driving in the dark.

Early evening found us at a taverna on the beach (again), where we had the meal of the trip – first off was some lovely cocktails (again), then onto a dish of tuna and broadbeans for me, and a grilled red snapper for Lucy. We drank beer (again) and enjoyed ourselves (again) as the sun went down on a gorgeous sunset (again).

There's something fairly attractive about the Lesbian lifestyle...

Hooray for Princess Fiona

Mytilini Port was bustling, in spite of its size. The ships that service it are huge, and it was fun watching everything happening whilst the boat docked. Here is our first view of the place:


We sorted out our rental car pretty quickly (a lime green Fiat Panda christened Princess Fiona) and Lucy had fun getting used to driving on the right. A few more learning experiences with street signs and that impossible alphabet and we eventually found the correct road.

The scenery was rather dreary – scrubby hillsides and lots of scorched dust giving the impression you’ll turn the corner and see Luke Skywalker. The occasional view was lovely – tiled cottages or gorgeous estuaries, but I was starting to wonder if I had made the right decision coming to Mytilini instead of Crete or Molyvos:


However, as soon as we get to Skala Erresos, that changed. The village is small and bright. There were lots of colourful umbrellas, souvenir beach towels, postcards and floating toys hanging against white washed walls ten metres from beautiful blue water. Our hotel had a balcony and air conditioning to help with the heat.

Like us, most visitors were women there to check out the annual festival. Being Sappho’s birthplace, it is quite a significant spot. Although all the women seemed to be on the other side of 40 than us, and clearly quite well off, there was a nice friendly vibe about that made me feel very at home.

In spite of the festival, the beach is still wonderfully empty:



Lucy and I hit the water immediately, and stayed in until late afternoon when we got a bit peckish. Somehow, we brought ourselves to drink beer and eat stuffed zucchini flowers. Then, celebrated our good fortune with fancy cocktails:


And watched our first Lesbian sunset:



It's not a bad life.

From Athens to Mytilini port

Having foregone the big A due to sunstroke the previous day, it was rather important that we got back up the hill on our last morning in Athens. Our wonderfully peaceful hotel room had cocooned us until 10:30 – so it was quite a rush to get out the door.

First stop was a proper tour of Ancient Agora. It was interesting, and I couldn’t get enough of the Temple of Hephaestus:


However, there was only so much time, and these crumbly ruins were nothing compared to the monolith awaiting us further up….

I was impressed but disappointed by the construction going on – the pixies were very busy! It meant there weren’t to be any ‘perfect’ photos, but I felt I had seen the Acropolis often enough in news and documentaries that the real thing was smaller and less impressive than I expected. Still, there were a few cool things around:








Hot enough after an hour in the midday sun, and not wanting a repeat of yesterday, Lucy and I clambered back down the hill and found the central market. Feta and salami gave me the first chance to really use my numbers, although we did just end up getting 100gms of everything (that's A LOT of olives!). I stubbornly refused to let a dodgy man sell me three mushy bananas, but my phrase book couldn’t tell me what he thought of that (yeah, right.).

Athens had taught me not to overlook the strange corners of the city, and I was rewarded for my curiosity with an ancient crumb of a church, tucked between a motor mechanics and a fishing shop on the main road back to the hotel. The churches in Athens are so beautiful inside, and this was no exception. I thought the gold crescents on the ceiling were some cool moon mural, but they are actually circles of real gold surrounding the heads of painted saints - but you can't see the saints because centuries of incense smoke and ash have faded the paintings. The atmosphere is breathtaking:




We then had a quickish stop to pick up our bags from the hotel before we headed to Piraeus port by Metro. Soon enough, we were onboard our Ferry learning what ‘economy’ means in Europe – find a spot on the floor and spread out. At first I thought this was just for gypsy families and solo truck drivers, but after trying all the alternative seats, I realised the floor was pretty much the best place. Lucy’s lack of reserve got her talking to the children, but I just kept to myself. Eventually, one of us fell asleep:


Not so fortunate, I just bummed around the ship for twelve hours. I was pretty tired as I watched the sunrise, but it was worth it.

Just in time to catch the gorgeousness of it all, Sleeping Beauty found me, and we took what I think will be my favourite ever photo:

No rest for the wicked, or tourists

This is the view of the Acropolis from the front of our hotel:


Keen to see it up close, I wandered outside into the hot, sunny and fragrant Sunday morning. Beautiful singing drew me towards the church across the street from the hotel and I slipped hesitantly inside to watch the patriarch sing as he blessed babies and children and gave communion to their parents. The inside of the church was beautiful lapus and gold. It was a glorious sight, and only that Lucy didn’t know where I was got me back outside.

It being Sunday, we wandered down fairly quiet streets. It was weird to see very very old churches just sitting in the middle of tower blocks and shopping centres, although they are still quite picturesque:




Eventually, we settled ourselves at a café so that Lucy could try Greek coffee (thick, frothy, very bitter) and we could watch the world a bit. Being right in the tourist area, entrepreneurs offered us holy numbers, a song on a guitar, fluorescent plastic pets, roses, a song on a harmonica, rosary beads, pirated DVDs, a song on an organ and, naturally, the latest Louis Vuitton. Sadly, the organ fellow was the worst singer, but seemed to need the money the most:


Having decided it wasn’t really our kind of neighbourhood, we headed east towards the tourist information centre, but found only the changing of the Parliamentary Guards. Their uniforms are very sweet (note pom poms on the shoes), and it was good entertainment to watch as various persons lined up to have their photograph taken next to what is essentially someone standing still:


A man whose assistance eventually ventured into creepiness tried to help us find the tourist centre, but to no avail. So, instead we checked out the National Library and Athens Academy from the outsides and decided to part with E4 to tour the ‘City of Athens Musuem’. This was some oddball’s personal collection, and was quite nice in an eccentrically Victorian way. Lucy fell in love with the old jars and vases in the backyard, but I was just weirded out by how many paintings the fellow owned of Lord Byron.

By some excellent twist of fate, we then found ourselves on the glorious kebab mile near the central station. It was very touristy and completely overdone. However, it was 2pm and we were too hungry to care. This is Lucy and I demolishing a chicken kebab, lamb doner, tomato and cucumber salad, fries, more beer, and an extra serving of pita bread the waiter saw fit to give us:


Captain Wheeler then decided it was time for us to be brave and wander map-less up into the hills. The first sign that she was right (as always, of course) is when we found ourselves sitting on a rather large slate of granite taking quite nice photographs:




Once we had exhausted every possible Athenian angle, we headed further up the hill for the unique tourist experience of paying E9 to a man with a monopoly on Acropolian food and drink. Not surprisingly, the sugar and flavouring in icy water masquerading as ‘refreshment’ didn’t really help my headache, so we had to forego the monuments and head back to the hotel to sleep off the effects of the sunshine.

To my eternal relief, a few hours’ rest did the trick, and we headed back out in the cooler evening to see more sights. We wandered old streets near the flea market and discovered Taverna Platon just as we were getting hungry. It was a cute side-alley spot, with chequered tablecloths on little tables just for two and a lovely older gentleman singing along with his guitar. A very romantic end to the first day.

Yassus Greece...

My apologies for not writing about Greece sooner. Our laptop has been sick, and is only just now back together. I hope the delay does not dampen your vicarious enjoyment of a wonderful time.

A fifteen hour day got us into central Athens close to bedtime. We had ‘fun’ navigating from the metro station to our hotel and were VERY lucky to stumble across some helpful English tourists and another kiwi couple. I thought I had found a wicked hotel all on my little own, but was saddened to discover it is actually in the Lonely Planet. So much for a unique travel experience…

Looking up to find the hotel sign, I got my first view of the Acropolis lit up on the hill at the end of our street. That was pretty special, and motivated a pretty damn quick finding of room and dumping of gear before we headed back out for an evening adventure.

Adopting a manner of over-excited strolling, we bypassed a few gorgeously lit public squares, obviously ancient ruins and enticing tavernas to find ourselves eating at the last restaurant before the Acropolis park begins. Mastering some fairly simple Greek (with help from people at the neighbouring tables), we ordered fresh fried fish, stuffed vine leaves, baba ganoush and some Greek beer with which to toast our safe arrival and general good fortune. Telios!

It was a pleasant escapade, and my first impressions of Greece were very positive. The mild climate was wonderful, the language has a similar accent to Italian (although an IMPOSSIBLE alphabet) and the people are uber-friendly. Sliding into a crisp and deliciously cool bed, I was certain this was going to be a lovely stay…

Carribean colour

The last August weekend is Notting Hill carnival time. It's great fun - I wrote about my visit last year. This time I had my camera...

Arming ourselves with beer and maps, Lucy and I set off with flatmates and friends at about lunchtime. We had a slow introduction to the parade as we watched a few alcohol marketing things amble by, and spectated as a few random patches of teenagers dressed like school girls dry humped each other in a display of jamaican pride.

That seemed to be all on offer for the moment, so we took off down back streets to the food alley. A heaving plate of goat curry and jerk chicken was soon mine, someone found fairly dangerous rum punch, and it seemed best we find a quiet spot to dine.

It seemed likely a real parade would have started by the time we finished eating, so we did out best to navigate to somewhere (anywhere) with some music and dance happening. Luckily, we caught another random section of folks, and these were much better.

A salsa school was doing a homage to the movies. Aside from the Charlie Chaplin hats, I didn't really get it, but the visuals were cool:


And, they had a very bright and colourful bird to help them out:


This one wasn't bad either:


The vibe is awesome, and everyone is happy. The crowd and participants seem to feed off each other - and make friends:


After the parade, I was hoping to have a really full-on dance at a sound stage, but it wasn't easy to find a good one. Thus, we headed back home through the barbeque smoke and an even bigger crowd. The Police estimated 500,000 people attended, and I can believe it:


It was a pleasant day, and I even got a summer tan.
(Of course, it had disappeared by Wednesday.)