Rubber Tramps visit Greece

We planned to fly in and out of Athens, spend a night with a college friend, see Athens next day and then begin island hopping. Instead Greece unfolded another way… Our night with Pinkie and her husband Christos became a week! Their wonderful hospitality, caring and central location in Glyfada despite being their busiest period at their Language School added a special dimension to our trip.

Pinkie & Lea reunited after 40 years outside the language school

On checking out travel possibilities to Kos with a Travel Agent we discovered a 4 day Classical Tour inland that covered all the places that Lea’s Dad had mentioned in his 1965 Community Development Tour of Greece with 50 Rhodesian Chiefs. A visit to Greece was twofold for Lea as somehow it held the key to her Dad’s love of Greek Mythology and ancient history that came about after the Chief’s Tour and her Gran had always spoken of a deep desire to visit the Greek Islands. But as life will so often have it the plans made on her retirement at 78 didn’t come to pass as Granny Lassie died in her office just week before. We booked four tours that encompassed an interesting variety of places for us in the very limited time we had available and these proved a successful choice.

We arrived soon after wild fires in Greece (supposedly lit by arsonists) had received world wide coverage. In making our booking of the tour through the Peloponnese we were warned that there was little left of the countryside to see. Rumours abounded - the museum at Olympia had been burnt down. Olive trees wiped out leaving a shortfall of 12 000 tons of olive oil from the region. To conspiracy theories revolving around property developers being the perpetrators enabling them to buy the scorched, so-called valueless land, from farmers and shepherds at ridiculously low prices. With elections imminent some accused the opposition party to be responsible, while others considered international terrorism a likely cause. Whatever the case, from what we saw, we concluded that the severity of the fires had been exaggerated. Knowing full well that the vegetation would recover we couldn’t quite understand what all the fuss was about. Possibly the rumours arose from the smoke that no doubt engulfed Olympia’s museum… We found it unscathed. The scant ground cover under the olive trees meant that apart from a few singed trees on the periphery of the orchards, they too had remained largely unharmed. As luck had it the 4 day tour we made in a large coach with 4 Canadians, 2 Australian girls and ourselves was a joy. A private tour - courtesy of the fires!

Before leaving the UK we had been warned about Athens … “dense traffic, smog-filled air, crowded sites and museums, intense summer heat, a city in chaos, of constant noise …”
We missed the worst of the season’s heat fortunately and the abundance of yellow taxis in Athens (60 000 of them said to be serving the demands of the population); the prolific amount of hooting and the lack of road markings were amongst our first impressions of the city. This, as well as parked cars covered in grime, litter that lay thick in the gutters alongside the roads and men constantly flicking their wrists associated with the distinctive sounds of worry beads (go-bo-lossi). Contrary to this negative description we were amused by the taxi “chatting” at intersections and generally found the hooting to be a form of anti congestion communication!

Our visit to the Acropolis (meaning ‘city’ on the ‘hilltop’) as one of the most famous ruins in the world was memorable. The Parthenon and the temple of Athena Nike were both thickly clad in scaffolding due to costly restoration work following after American experts botched it first time round! The crowds of people were dense yet it did not detract all that much from the experience and the views over Athens were absolutely stunning.

Lea amongst the crowds at the Acropolis

However, take heed, all the stairways leading up to the Acropolis are crafted from marble and over the decades of pedestrian access (at rates in excess of 10 000 visitors a day) these slabs have become highly polished and lethally slippery. We saw several unwary tourists clutching at the air as they fell on their backsides and for much of the time found ourselves hanging onto each other like two old dodderers! Below the Acropolis, set among gnarled old olive trees, lay the ancient Agora (market place) and a magnificent museum containing all sorts of artefacts from the Acropolis. There were beautiful examples of bronze work (the griffon’s head being a favourite), the early use of glass and of the moulds used for making the folds in garments when carving marble statues. We’d just learnt that the three “enemies” of Greek antiquities were Man because of his inclination to plunder. Oh dear, in their National Museum an empty room has been set aside to remind visitors of the Greek antiquities currently residing in the British Museum! Secondly, Early Christians for demolishing idols and knocking the heads off anything that resembled a God! Thirdly, earthquakes… Situated on the north Aegean fault Greece is a seismically active region with 20 000 earthquakes, mostly minor, having been recorded over the last 40 years - the last severe quake being in September 1999. Thinking about it there are probably several other “enemies” – atmospheric pollution (acid rain) and flooding for example.

The fleeting sight of the Changing Guards caught from our passing coach definitely required closer inspection that after the agora we walked back to the city through the Plaka to find the Voulis and on the hour we watched this ceremony from start to finish and if Lea could have had her way, we’d still be watching… Whether it’s the Changing Guards at Buckingham Palace or the Guard change at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington – USA, the rigor involved is the same. However, the unusual footwear and high stepping, foot-waggling legwork of the Greek Evzones enhances this spectacle.

The fast moving traffic travelling on the “wrong” side of the road according to our pre-conditioned minds made crossing the roads a hazardous affair – particularly for Lea who finds crossing without the aid of the “green man” at traffic lights traumatic. One especially stressful occasion arose the day of our “one day island cruise” We were waiting outside a hotel pick up point on the edge of a busy 6 lane highway into Athens, our coach well overdue, when Lea noticed a lady emerge from thick bushes growing on the median strip that separated the traffic flows, waving a piece of paper. It proved to be a signal for us to cross the road and join the coach awaiting us on the opposite side! With hearts in our mouths we managed to cross the first three lanes successfully and seek refuge on the island but, when faced with crossing the next three lanes, it became a case of every man for himself. George abandoned Lea and made a quick dash, leaving her to cross in her own time. Everyone on the bus watched this terrified lady looking in the wrong direction waiting for a gap in the traffic, and wondering how long it would be before we were finally on our way. No such thing as “duty of care” in Greece! We were so late boarding the ship that was to take us on our cruise that virtually every seat had been taken. Each deck jammed packed with people and we landed up sitting in a lounge with 4 Indians (one of whom reminded us of PW Botha, die “Krokodil”!), masses of Japanese playing card games and a crowd clapping and singing along to Greek songs being played by wandering minstrels. The austerity of the many islands we passed were a far cry from the postcard impressions of white sandy beaches we had in mind. At each of the islands of Poros, Hydra and Aegina we were given time off to wander – Here we found the quintessential street cats, donkeys, floating markets and the blue shuttered white houses that epitomise Grecian villages and many pistachio stalls!

One mule to another on Hydra

On the way back to Athens a sudden storm blew up bringing rain, and a chilly wind that generated a heavy swell. This did wonders to clear the smoke haze hanging over the Peloponnese in readiness for our “Classical Tour” the next day.

Our coach followed the “fine cliff hanging road…” past “the site of naval battle of Salamis (480BC)” and stopped in “New Corinth – to see the shipping canal through the isthmus” all mentioned by Dad. Two major engineering projects in this area…The first, impressive to Dad and ourselves, is the 6 km long Corinth Canal dug through the isthmus between the mainland and the Peloponnese to facilitate the movement of ships between the Aegean and Ionian Seas. Subsequently back in Perth, our friends Des & Liz provided us with another perspective of the Corinth Canal, as they had sailed through in their yacht a couple of months previously.
The second, opened in 2004 in time for the Olympic Games, is the 160m high, 2.2 km cable-stayed bridge over a narrow section of the Ionian Sea that facilitates communications with Italy and Western Europe. The bridge built by the French at a cost of 770 million Euro is a remarkable feat of engineering considering the weak sediments on the sea bed, the high seismic activity and possibility of tectonic movements.

This classical journey of 1 300km undoubtedly had the deepest impact on us. Beginning in the ancient amphitheatre of Epidaurus, which is famous for its acoustics, came a magical moment we are unlikely to forget. In the hubbub of the milling crowds broke the sound of a mother singing to her small son seated way above her - a spontaneous, spine chilling performance in its simplicity that instantly silenced everyone and afterwards resulted in resounding applause. Amidst the ruins of Mycenae with the concentric shape of the graves circles, the massive cyclopean walls and the conical / beehive shape of the treasury of Atreus to the stone stairways and chevron patterns prevalent among the stonework at Olympia, came our first realisation and understanding why Dad had felt such a great affinity to the Ancient Greeks. So too, did we recognise similarities in the stonework and form of Zimbabwe Ruins. Recollections of the stone work that Dad had so enjoyed doing in all his gardens dating back to his bachelor days in the 1920’s, came to mind. Even his daughter’s gardens, have contained touches of his handiwork. Not to mention the careful selection of rocks that went into the building of “Dangamvuri”, our family home. We were both acutely aware of his presence out there.

We found the setting of Delphi, known as the geographical centre or “navel” of the world, nestled below the rocky walls of Mount Parnassos and overlooking a deep fertile valley of olive trees stretching for ever, to be the most inspiring of the sites visited.

Our short, plump guide who Lea named the “flying fox” due to the voluminous black garment that billowed around her and our remarkably skilled bus driver both deserve a mention. Packed with character, Elena has been in the guide business for 39 years following in her father’s footsteps and there is no doubt she knew every twist in the road. She drew a sharp distinction between ‘tourists’ (empty-headed, uncaring sods on the look out for souvenirs) and ‘visitors’ (like us!) and was not afraid to yell at tourists doing unsafe things, or ask nearby tour groups in museums to be quiet in no uncertain terms.

Matching the majestic inselbergs of Niassa and the granite kopjes of Zimbabwe are the towering pinnacles of granite that occur behind the town of Kalambaka in central Greece. Unbelievably striking was to find old Byzantine monasteries, some dating back to the 15th century, perched precariously on top of them.

We visited two monasteries that had become nunneries, St Stephen (Agios Stefanos) and St Barbara Roussanou. From each we enjoyed stupendous views, looking over the edge of the cliffs - some sculptured like Uluru by wind and water - wondering what it must have been like building and servicing these places hundreds of years ago. Some had even been “bombardized” (using Elena’s terminology) during WW2.

A wonderful comradeship developed over the four days and we all felt a measure of sadness as each couple was dropped off at their respective hotels in Athens. We were sent back to Glyfada in a yellow taxi, and for once it was George who found himself nervously cringing after noticing that the driver was using his left knee to drive while he busied himself doing paperwork, answering the phone, making calls and then dismantling his mobile phone on his lap! All during the 17km ride home on the highway, congested with traffic moving between 80-100km/hr. Lea quite unaware of all this.

Catching the overnight ferry to the island of Kos, we disembarked at 5.00 the next morning while still very dark and walked through a picturesque fortified harbour in the gloom and found ourselves a bench outside the walls of the castle and waited until the sun rose over Turkey, a mere 5km away. Hundreds of frenzied little birds greeting the dawn mirrored our mounting excitement – and with no buses to be seen, we began walking out of Kos town along the coast to find the Beach Resort where our Ramsden family had been scheduled to arrive during the early hours of that morning. Once there, we sat on the beach eagerly awaiting a glimpse of a familiar face! Eventually a bleary eyed Dan emerged, wondering how he was going to retrieve his windsurfing gear abandoned at the airport. So began two nights and barely two days of idle, carefree family time together.

Squeezing illegally into their little family room added to the enjoyment along with eating custard filled donuts, visiting nearby sulphurous hot springs (therma) that run into the sea, and eating Grecian meals in the local taverns.

Finally, sad in the knowledge that we really had no idea when we may all meet again, Dan took us to Kos airport at the crack of dawn to catch our flight back to Athens, and from there on to London. We had loved every minute of our 10 day visit taking in Athens, central Greece and four of the 1 400 islands that are said to lie dotted among the blue waters of the Aegean and Ionian Seas.