Denial ain't just a river in Egypt
Our time in Athens was up. It was time to wave goodbye to the gorgeous Athenian men with the surgically attached Ray-Bans (don't worry boys, the girls were addicted to them too) and hop into our little hire car and brave the chaos that is
Greek Driving.
I don't know how I survived it without hyperventilating and passing out. To make matters worse, Dad was driving a left-hand drive car AND a manual. It weren't pretty y'all.
Still we managed to get out of Athens without dying and me having hysterics and on to the open road.
First stop, Corinth!
Corinth Canal
Saturday, 27th May, 2006.
The picture doesn't really do it justice. That thing was deeeeeeeep. It's apparently over 6 kilometres long, 23 metres wide and is 90 metres high. I didn't manage to catch a photo of the ship going through it but the ship looked like a tiny bath tug from the bridge.
There were a lot of people gripping the hand-rail every step of the way.
After that, we spent a lot of time hooning along the different roads and passing through the various toll ways including this suspension bridge. It seemed like every few k's we were scrabbling for change to hand off to the toll booths.
While driving, I noticed that there were a lot of altars by the side of the road. Basically a solid box made of wood and metal, a cross on top, glass front and with what seemed to be icons and booze inside. There didn't seem to be rhyme nor reason to them. Every now and then there'd be one and ocassionally more than that.
Apparently sometimes they are just that - altars to a particular saint. The ones I was seeing were in fact the equivalent of our white crosses and fake flowers next to the roadside - yup, road fatalities.
On the major windy mountain road out of Athens there were heaps. We'd come up to a corner, there'd be a new stretch of reinforcement concrete before the sheer edge and....
"Dead person."
Next corner. New concrete.
"Dead person."
Another corner. New concrete.
"Wow, two dead people."
Many corners, much new concrete, many dead people later.
"OH MY GOD SIX DEAD PEOPLE!"
After that, Dad got slightly hysterical himself and asked me to "shut up with the dead people already."
Many hours later, we arrived at Paleros, ancient home of one side of Dad's family. (The motto for both sets of parents' family should be "Have genes. Will travel." I'm aiming to bring American Indian into the gene pool or American Japanese. A girl's gotta have goals)
This is a view out of the apartment we were staying at and down the main street. That's the family supermarket.
I'll post more photos next time.
Last day in Athens
Acropolis
Sunday, April 16, 2006.
This part is pretty explanatory.
We got there first thing in the morning which was just as well because Athens had decided to burn off the last of its fog and rain and belt down with the sun. Luckily the dormant Greek DNA kicked in and although we felt roasted we didn't burn at all.
Thought we were smart by getting there early but we still got caught up in the tour groups.
Makes me shudder to wonder what it would be like in peak season.
What's actually happening now is that they're building the Acropolis using the original parts where possible. Above the Agora - which literally translates to market. Coincidentally that's what it was in the Olden Days (those Greeks. They're just so sneaky!) although now it's just a tourist curiousity. This is where I was introduced to the weird museum custom in Greece in that you're allowed to take photos of statues but nobody is meant to be in the photo with them. I can't think for the life of me what it could be. Often the rules were there purely for copyright purposes but most were just bizarre especially when they're coming from a Greek mamma telling you off for sitting in a rock after she's put her cigarette butt out on one of them.
We also got introduced to the Great Greek Sentiment of "Eh" (add shrug of shoulders and slight curling of lip). All through Athens you could see how much work they put in to beautify it for the Olympics but they hadn't touched it since. The national museum had what would have been a beautiful herb garden out the front but hadn't had a gardener touch it in awhile.
One place towards the end of the trip that we went to had had millions of euros spent on it but not a cent since. Paths had overgrown and a pond had formed in an excavation. Just bizarre.
Cheese
Dead man at Syntagma Station
When they were digging the metro, they found a whole heap of stuff including Junior up there so they left him as part of a display to show the change through the ages.
The stick your tongue out and cross your eyes post
...seriously. It'll then look kinda like a panoramic shot of Athens.
This was taken from the walk up Lykavittos Hill to the Chapel of Agios Giorgios (or St George for you un-hellenicised barbarians). That's my Dad pointing out something to my bro and my Mum (hidden) probably while I was pondering the idiocy/fashion savviness of women from the Eastern Bloc that would walk up steep gravel hills in high stilettos.
Chapel of Agios Giorgios
Pom-poms
Changing of the guards at Parliament Saturday 15th April, 2006
After surviving our first night in the Plaka, the hotel breakfast (always a french stick (sometimes fresh, sometimes not), COFFEE (rock on), jam, cheese, mystery meat, boiled egg and a slice of cake - I know. The cake bit got me as well but it was the breakfast we got served everywhere) and the cigarette smoke (Greeks still smoke everywhere including hotel rooms) we headed out to do the touristy thing.
The guards were still in their winter uniform which included those delightful white tights which apparently was disappointing for us because the summer uniform is better.
All however incorporate pom-poms. Ahhhh pom-poms. That brings back Yr 1 arts and crafts memories.
Every hour, the guards who are traditionally from a Macedonian troop are replaced, inspected and go through this incredibly intricate...... dance is probably the best word. Technically it's a changing of the guard but hey, why change the guard when you can make those pom-poms move? My bro has a video of the whole thing for those that are curious. If you want to see it, send me an email and I'll send it to you.
I'm going to hell...
....because I take photos of beggars lying in the street. Frequently.
Still they have a lot to learn from the beggars in Venice. There they cry crocodile tears and kneel and pray over cards with pictures of saints. That's far more melodramatic.
Classic Postcard Shot
This is a view of Athens from the top of the Plaka at the end of our first day there. We were busy trying to find this taverna my parents had been to (six years before) because Dad had a craving for their Prawn Saganaki and instead found a vantage point to take photos.
We ended up walking through a few different gang areas to get there (I was reading the different tags) but hey, the rest of the family were oblivious so it's all good.
The Taverna
We finally found it.
