Part 3 : Get into the Greek

Touching down in the Greek capital I was excited yet filled with nervous energy. While hastily planning this trip my original places of interest seemed ideal. Cyprus, Athens, Cairo and Turkey. What I didn’t anticipate in the lead up to my departure was political unrest in Athens, violence in Cairo or the deadly earthquake in Turkey. We promptly removed Cairo from our itinerary and cautiously planned our trip. Exiting the large airport terminal I was immediately blasted with a very cool, almost chilly breeze, surrounded by hundreds of people catching buses & taxis and all my worries fell away. I was in Athens and I was going to find me a Greek God.

You would think someone, vastly travelled in worldly adventures such as I, could make it out of the airport relatively unscathed. But public transport has always been a weakness of mine and one responsibility I gladly hand to my travel partner to take care of. In this case that was not a wise decision. Having bought our bus tickets to the city we stand in line, in the now chilly breeze, and wait until bus arrives stop #4. While waiting, I use the reflective glass of the airport terminal to people watch everyone walking behind me. I catch the stare of an older man on the bus and don’t look away. The glass is like a mirror yet he doesn’t seem to mind. I turn back around to face him and in doing so see the bus number sign we had been patiently waiting under for at least 20 mins in the cold. Bus stop #3. Giggling like young children, not like the delirious travellers we are, I think ‘if we can’t catch the right bus out of the airport how will we survive the city?’ I don’t think about it further and my giggles follow us up and onto bus #4.

After a couple of wrong turns from the subway station we enter our backpacker accommodation. As we try and check in we are met with blank stares. We are in the wrong place (of course) and need to walk a few more blocks. Here we meet the manager who hails from the village of Perth. That knowledge alone makes me happy. On the way up to our 3^rd floor room I see there’s a Sports Bar on street level beneath us and that they have a karaoke night that night. I’m mildly interested but my travel partner is not. He immediately starts rattling off things like ‘It better not be too loud’ ‘we better not be able to hear anything up here’ ‘I hope it doesn’t keep me up late I’m tired and want to sleep’. I don’t bother, drag my suitcase into my room and start plotting my day.

My only thoughts are ‘I want to see the ruins!’. After settling in we immediately start off for the next adventure. We are staying in Plaka and to my surprise we are right next to the one and only Akropolis. We wonder through a dainty street filled by cafes and tourist stores. We stop to get a hot drink and I consult the map.  On the inside is a detailed map of the city and on the outside there are details of useful services where we are staying, bus information and a very helpful ‘Speak Greek’ section. I casually peruse the list of sayings to see if I recognise any and my eyes strain on one particular phrase. Yinonte espisodia? I ask to Scott. He looks at me and shrugs and I translate for him – are there riots? Hmmm I’m suddenly not as carefree as I was a moment ago if this is considered one of the top 10 phrases a tourist should learn.

With the Akropolis in sight from almost any angle, we set off for the Akropolis Museum. The entry floor to this magnificent building, I quickly realise, is all glass. After a quick gasp I realise why. They are excavating ruins and preserving them simultaneously. The museum is built on top of ancient ruins and constructed in a way to both house and showcase them to the public. It really was beautiful. Not one to have the patience to visit museums, I quickly realise I could have spent a whole day here. The history of it all struck me and left me speechless. Trouble follows were trouble goes.... so of course after taking my first few photos to preserve and remember this amazing experience we (and I mean me) are hunted down by the security detail and told to promptly put my camera away.

After that we go on a mission to find a little wine bar Scott remembers from his previous visit. We find it and I’m glad to know it is not too far from our place. We go in and meet the Greek man behind the counter and take a seat. Over the course of our Athens experience he becomes known as my Greek boyfriend. We try some wine and after awhile it all starts to taste the same. Scott has a better pallet than I do so I just order the same one while he continues to try others. Before we know it, this little wine bar is filling up quick and we are joined by many on our table. Here we meet two girls from America. We chat and laugh and get to know each other. After 10 to many vinos, Scott stands up and suggests we move on to a raging karaoke party at our hostel. I just stare at him in disbelief at the words he just said but follow the group regardless to the fun and horror that only karaoke can offer.

He steps into the tiny Sports Bar and I find none other than every AFL team scarf hanging from the wall. I think to myself ‘I am so far from home but never really gone’. The G & Ts start flowing freely   and with all self respect left happily back in my room the fun and games begin.

The next morning we are slow to get started but we get some breakfast on the go and start our trek towards the Akropolis. The climb at times never seems to end but the higher I climb, the more breath taking the views of the city become and the more I feel like I’m tumbling back in time. The reconstruction of the structure is still underway but what has been done so far took my breath away – again. There were hundreds of people making their way to and from the Akropolis. Scott and I split up and I took in every bit of scenery I could and didn’t want to return to the world below.

The following day I went on a hop on hop off bus tour of the surrounding areas. I visited such places as Panathinaiko Stadium, Parliament House and gardens, Museum of Ancient History and of course the Temple of Zeus. I explored alone, wandered the garden squares and watched the changing of the guard at Parliament House. I had watched something similar at the Kremlin in Moscow and at Buckingham Palace in London. This procession, I suppose you would call it, was just as fascinating as the two others that came before it and their guard uniforms just as traditional.

Scott and I explored Zeus’ Temple on our own the following day. To touch 2000 year old stone was an amazing feeling. There were sections roped off and prohibited to the public but that didn't stop me from feeling the cold hard stone that had been placed there centuries before me. Before I knew it, my time in Athens was coming to a close. We went to our favourite restaurant in that dainty little street and saw our Papou for the last time. He took us in and looked after us like any grandfather would. We made our way to the airport and checked in, ready for my next adventure in Turkey.

I felt nostalgic when I left the terminal and boarded by flight. I had already visited my family in Italy and now felt the same familiar pull to this country. The people were beautiful, they understood the meaning of family and my Italian heritage seemed to agree that I belonged.

Walking down to the gate, I had my boarding pass in my hand along with my Italian passport. It had been a long day and I was ready to rest for a few hours on the flight. I entered the plane and handed my boarding pass over as usual to show the flight attendant my seat number. ‘Yassas’ she greeted me and I did not feel the need to correct her. ‘Yassas’ I responded, just in time for me to hear her say ‘Hello’ to Scott behind me. Maybe my Italian heritage showed more in me than I thought.

‘When in Rome’ I thought..... oh well, Greece.

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Part 2: The Cyprus Adventure

My parents haven’t travelled overseas a lot in their lives so when their youngest child ventures to all parts of the globe they understandably get nervous of the unknown. When I’m on holidays there is an unbreakable rule that says I must remain in mobile or internet contact every one to two days or at least update my facebook status to let my parents know I’m still alive & kicking and always stay somewhere safe. Well at my first destination what do you think was the fastest way to freak my parents out? Just tell them I’m staying in the military buffer zone of course!

After dropping off our things and taking a well needed shower we set out to see the town. Now all I knew about the place we were visiting is that it was where Scott had once lived and worked. That should be safe enough right? Before no time at all we had entered the buffer zone and are confronted with a sign prohibiting photography. I think to myself ‘Just great, now how am I meant to get holiday photos?’ Thinking I can be sneaky about it I pull out my camera and try to use my ninja stealth moves to get a few shots. I’m caught by Scott of course and he then shows me the Turkish watch tower on the hill in front of us. Even this far away I can feel him looking at me through his rifle scope. The camera was promptly put away.

Our first stop was to go and see some of Scott’s mates. What this really means is that my first official site seeing place on my adventure was the UN Police Station. It was only a quick stop but in the process I met the Police Commander, a couple of Aussie police men and women and saw some Hungarian Police. Pretty cool actually and if I didn’t feel safe in the Buffer zone now I never would. It was a Sunday so at this time most of the town was closed. After seeing the first of many ruins in the town centre we went to a small cafe to have a well earned Keo Beer (local of course) and something to eat. Here we come across Helena, our waitress, who for the course of the trip was referred to as Scott’s Romanian wife. I had no idea about the number of Eastern Europeans that had migrated to Southern Cyprus. There are Romanians, Russians, Georgians and so many more moving there to work and live. Helena was one such individual. She was your quintessential Eastern European women with long legs and a figure to envy. But with the limited sleep I had had on my journey thus far I was not in the mood for her flirtatious, visa hunting ways with the male at my table so I promptly asked for the bill.

On our walk back to the place we were staying I hear something familiar. A sound that reminded me of fun times had. Scott couldn’t hear anything so he followed me blindly down a deserted street. Low and behold we come across a beer garden with the most people I’d seen all day and one Greek man playing the Zorba! I fell in love with the place instantly and got my 10^th wind for the day and stayed for a few more Keo beers. After an afternoon nap it was time to crack open the Duty Free champers and meet the guy who was graciously letting us crash his pad who is a great mate of mine now - Josh. 

 The following day our true holiday commenced. I used the local knowledge of my travel buddy to seek out all the amazing ruins we could find. We came across some pretty amazing stuff that would just blow your mind. Cyprus is a little behind the times when it comes to preservation which worked in our favor as we got to touch, climb and get up close and personal with most ruins. Or in Scott’s case we got to surf a 2000 year old piece of marble. I’d too soon find out that this was not the case in Athens and get chased down by security for even taking a photo! More on that later.... Anyway, after a big day of driving it was time for another nap and dinner with the Aussie Police. It is such a close community that these guys made me feel like family straight away in the way only Aussies can.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a keen scuba diver. I learnt how to dive when I moved to Vanuatu and got certified. I had dived all of my dives in Vanuatu so I was super keen to dive in the Mediterranean and it didn't disappoint! I dived the Zenobia which is a 178m long ferry that sunk off the coast of Cyprus in 1980 when the balancing system of the boat broke down. Everyone got off safely except the cattle whose bones I found on one of the decks! There are trucks still chained to the boat & crane while others have fallen off and lay on the sea bed as the boat now lies on its side. The visibility here was easily 20-25 metres. This experience was amazing for me and just fuels my thirst for more diving trips around the globe.

We decide to hire a car off this grumpy dodgy looking Russian man for a couple of days. We set off for the Alps (yes that’s correct Cyprus has Alps) and begin a long yet glorious day of exploration.  Needing our daily fix we first stop off at our now regular Starbucks to get the essentials, have Adele’s ‘Someone like you’ blaring from the speakers and only then are we officially set to go. Our drive takes us to many more ruins, castles, little seaside towns, deserted look outs and past a few too many hunters. Just to clarify it was hunting season when I was visiting so the Cypriot men were out in droves hunting anything they could find. Not surprisingly I’m told they don’t find much anymore which has less to do with the fact that the animals have all been eaten and more to do with the florescent orange vests they wear when they are trying to ‘hide’ in the bushes. Truth be told hunters have shot each other many times before so it’s a case of been seen and not shot than to stay camouflaged.

We come across a quaint little hillside town and decide to have a rest, a drink and enjoy the glorious views. To say the streets were a tight fit doesn't even come close to what we experienced. We basically stopped in the street to let a car just scrap by. It was clear we were novices at the tight squeeze thing as no one else seemed to care much. We found a little bar and upon entering found a group of elder Greek gents playing a card game on the porch while the women sat inside. Oh how it reminded me of my childhood. We take up a window seat and enjoy the breathtaking cliffside view. My Vodka & Orange is delivered and it’s a ‘make it yourself’ drink similar to what I experienced in Russia. So I go to pour in the Orange Juice only to find my glass is rather full already. Before Scott and I can stop to think about it the little old waitress comes over and in the thickest Greek accent says to me ‘Your drink is strong’. I’m still laughing!

We stop off at a few wineries on our way back to Larnaka and I fall in love with this old Greek couple at our 2nd winery. They take us in and I feel at home.  After too much cheese, and bottles in tow, we set off for the next one. Everywhere we went we were always asked where we were from. Vanuatu simply doesn’t exist to people on the other side of the world so I started to say Brisbane (because let’s face it if they don’t know about Vanuatu they’re not going to know South Johnstone!) After a few failed attempts Scott and I agreed we both were from ‘The village of Sydney’. This was understood and accepted by most and became the response from then on.

As our time came to an end I was very happy with what I had seen and done. I was able to see, touch and experience ancient ruins, eat as much haloumi cheese as humanly possible and dive in the magic blue waters of the Mediterranean. Scott walked away from our trip with 3 Eastern European wives named Helena, Ola & Olga. All in all I had a fantastic time with only one thing on the list not crossed off..... seeing a Cypriot donkey. Oh well I’ll just have to go back one day!