Bombarding my readers with lengthy tales from Greek mythology is not my intention – I will leave that to the Greek tour guides who drone on endlessly on the subject. Instead I will give a very brief impression of my visit.
Oceana berthed in Piraeus at dawn and my lasting memory will be of the chanting which floated up from the Greek Orthodox church of St. Nicholas near the quayside. St. Nicholas is the patron saint of the seafarers and this was his Feast Day. Lines of people queued to enter the church and in the evening there was to be great celebrations in the square. My day was to be spent in Athens and I had taken the precautions of booking the “Athens on your Own” trip so that I would be assured of no problems with transport. A few truly adventurous passengers were to take the local train into town but I decided against this – just in case there should be any problems in the afternoon for the return trip. As it happened I was so pleased that I took this decision – but more of that later !
The journey into Athens took just 30 minutes and our local organiser turned out to be a lady from “back home”. She had met a Greek student whilst she was at university in the north of England way back in the 1970s and had lived in Athens since 1974. As we approached the city centre she offered to show the best entrance for all those who wanted to go to the Acropolis. Was there anyone who wanted to go anywhere else? Naturally, I always have to be different from the crowd so up shot my hand. I was asked where I was hoping to visit so I replied “The First Cemetery” !! Oh dear, that gave her problems. I knew roughly where it was but not the precise location of the street. As is always the way the tourist map which had been provided was nowhere near detailed enough to show all the street names. Well, it appeared that she didn’t know the precise location either so off I set on my own for another of my little adventures.
I headed off in the direction of the Temple of Olympian Zeus and the Stadium because I had been given to understand that the cemetery (which has a Protestant section) was located in the streets behind these edifices. I spent an hour climbing the hilly streets in this section of town but on this occasion failed miserably in my quest. I refrained from seeking help from any gentlemen with cars in case I should be whisked off as was the case in Malta. At one point I did ask a young man on a scooter but he had no idea of what I was asking – how does one pronounce “A’Koimitirio Athinon” ? Obviously not as I was trying to say it !
In the end I had to give up and decided to “do” some of the more normal sight seeing venues. The Temple of Olympian Zeus was a sight to behold and often overlooked in favour of the more impressive Parthenon. Massive marble columns towered over me but even more impressive were the pieces from the collapsed column which lie on the ground just as they fell centuries ago. My photo for this will have to bear the caption “Whoops, knew I shouldn’t have leant against this pillar”
Again, cats had taken up residence within the ruins finding that the low broken columns made ideal perches for sun bathing. At one point I sat on the grass to eat the cheese rolls that I had brought with me from the ship for my lunch. I made instant friends with one of the cats ! From my vantage point I looked up at the Acropolis with the Parthenon gleaming in the sunlight. Everything that I had read said that if you see nothing else in Athens see the Acropolis. I’m afraid that phrases such as this instanly put me off as I am such a rebel. I looked at my watch and found that I had another two hours before being due back at the meeting point to catch the coach. Oh well, I might as well play the typical tourist and climb to the top of the Acropolis. All I can say is that I did just this. It was one hell of a climb and when I got to the top I found that the Parthenon was adorned with two large cranes and loads of scaffolding. It did absolutely nothing to inspire me.
Also on top of the Acropolis can be found the smaller but beautiful temple called the Erechtheion. Now this was something to be seen. The Porch of the Caryatids contains six larger than life statues of maidens carrying the entire weight of the porch’s roof on their heads. No cranes nor scaffolding to spoil the scene here.
So the time came to make my way to the coach and be whisked back to the ship. Other passengers told of riots occuring at Parliament Square in Athens and of roads and stations being closed. Those who had taken the train suddenly found that they had problems. The stations that were open were absolutely jam packed. A train would draw into the platform, open it doors but be unable to disgorge its passengers or take on more because of the over packed platforms. Apparently one British lady was pushed onto a train in the crush and the doors closed before her husband could board – screams of panic ensued !! That night as I watched the news on the TV it showed the demonstration in Athens and of tear gas being used on the protestors. It was obviously some divine fate that made me climb the Acropolis instead of walking up the road to Parliament Square to see the guards in their wonderful costumes.
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