Greece 2010, Last Day

We didn’t have any real plans for the final day of the holiday so after we had finished our breakfast and completed most of the packing we set off for a final walk and just to be certain that we wouldn’t unexpectedly find ourselves in Rhodes town again, this time we walked along the beach in the opposite direction. Actually it was Kim’s suggestion that we walk that way because I don’t think she was prepared to take any chances!

As we walked we passed by a succession of rather scruffy little beaches each set out with rows of under occupied sun beds and umbrellas. The sea was choppy again and this had the unfortunate effect of washing up considerable amounts of litter and debris and on account of this we weren’t inclined to stop and swim.

At one beach there was a heated argument between the sun bed operator and some blanket people who had arranged themselves on a flat spot of sand in between the loungers and this had upset the man who collected the money presumably because it was depriving him of revenue. They all seemed to get unnecessarily excited about it and there was a lot of shouting and arm waving but eventually the blanket people gave in and moved of this part of the beach to another without sun beds and to be honest this looked like a much better spot to us anyway.

In the distance, not too far away, we could see a windmill so we agreed that we would walk that far and then turn back. This took us into the next village and resort area and when we had reached and seen the rather disappointing windmill that was now an art gallery we did just that. We retraced our steps until we reached the Ixian Grand where we walked through the gardens and the lobby area really just to reassure ourselves for a second time that we hadn’t missed anything by not stopping there.

There was an interesting bar at the side of the road on the way back with random furniture, old photographs on the walls and a sign that promised the best beer in Rhodes so we took the challenge and stopped to sample it. Actually it tasted pretty much like all of the other beer in Rhodes but we weren’t complaining about that.

After we had returned to the Caravel we thought we should go for one last swim in the sea and Kim had found the perfect spot on a private beach belonging to the posh hotel opposite. I was a bit reluctant but Kim persuaded me to go and as it happened no one challenged us so we enjoyed a last dip in the Aegean, for this year anyway.

The day was sliding away quickly now so we spent some final time around the pool, completed our packing, checked out and then had a final meal in the hotel restaurant before calling a taxi to return us to the airport. Predictably the driver overcharged us by €4 but we didn’t complain, just withheld any tip. Unusually the Easyjet flight was on time so we left Greece on time and arrived back in Liverpool slightly ahead of schedule.

It had been an interesting and enjoyable two weeks and useful in a way because after four years we had begun to wonder why we kept going back to the Cyclades. Rhodes and Symi were nice but our holiday there reminded us just why we like Folegandros and Ios, Serifos and Amorgos so much and exactly why we will probably be returning there again next year.

Greece 2010, Thumbs-down for Ixian Grand Hotel but Thumbs-up for Booking.com

On the day we arrived at the Sofia Pension there was a message from Booking.com to get in touch. I did so immediately and was told that there was a problem with our next hotel, the Ixian Grand in Ixia, which we had chosen for our last two nights, because due to a mix up they were double booked and they couldn’t therefore fulfill our booking. We were disappointed about that because we had been looking forward to stopping in a four star luxury spa hotel but now it was cancelled and there was nothing we could do about it.

Actually I never believed it for one minute because we had booked the room nearly three months ago and I suspect that what really happened was that they had received a better offer or had had to find accommodation for one of the holiday package companies and although it was nice of them to offer me an alternative, once I had established that there would be no cancellation charge, I turned it down out of principle and immediately called the Caravel where we had stayed for the first two nights and arranged accommodation there for only €50 a night.

I was surprised however when I checked my emails in a bar a couple of days later that there was correspondence that suggested I had been charged by the Ixian Grand a €135 on night’s cancellation fee and there was an explanation that this was my fault because I had not accepted their alternative. Naturally I was fuming but could do nothing about it until I could visit the Ixian Grand in person a couple of days later.

So I resolved that this would be my very first job when we returned to Ixia in a couple of day’s time. On the last morning we had a final breakfast and said our farewells and then we walked to the bus stop. The sensible thing to do was to call a taxi but I argued that this would be a waste of money so we took the cheap option instead. Kim complained most of the way because it was uphill, the cobbled pavements made it difficult to drag her suitcase and it really was quite hot. By the time we reached the bus stop I was feeling quite guilty but the bus arrived quickly and soon we were booking back into the Caravel and being allocated room 101 again and while we waited for it to be ready we had a drink in the bar with the 15% discount for guests.

While Kim rested I went looking for the Ixian Grand fully prepared to trash the place if I had to! It wasn’t far away and to be fair it was very busy. At the reception I introduced myself and demanded an explanation and whilst they stuck to their double booking lies they did agree that I shouldn’t pay a cancellation fee and they assured me that they wouldn’t so there was no need for any rough stuff after all. (When I returned home, just to be doubly sure, I emailed them and once again, to be fair, they quickly confirmed that there would be no charge).

Before I left I had a little look around the place and to be honest I was rather glad our booking had been cancelled. The pool area was busy, the lobby bar was expensive and the restaurant was corporate and pretentious and I was pleased that we were at the Caravel instead.

So, thumbs-down to the Ixian Grand but a big thumbs-up for Booking.com. I was really impressed that after I hadn’t responded to an email notification that they took the trouble to track me down at the Sofia Pension and make sure that the matter was resolved. I think good customer service generally deserves a mention and my favourite hotel booking web site certainly didn’t let me down on this occasion!

Greece 2010, Fortresses, Palaces, Knights and Ramadan

Early next morning we heard the self opinionated bankers leaving for the next leg of the journey to Kos and we were pleased that they had gone. For our last full day in Rhodes we had saved the visit to the Palace of the Grand Masters as we anticipated that this might be one of the highlights so after a second excellent breakfast on the terrace prepared by Sofia we set off again towards the heart of the old medieval city and the street of the Knights and at the top the Palace itself.

From the outside it looks impressive but it isn’t the original Palace of course because that was destroyed in an explosion in the nineteenth century. The blast levelled it (and pretty much everything else adjacent to it) to the ground and it was later rebuilt by the Italians who didn’t concern themselves too greatly with issues of historical accuracy. They thought it might make a good Palace for the Italian King to come and stay but as it happened he never visited Rhodes or stayed at the place. Just as in Lindos and the bodged reconstruction of the Acropolis they again used inappropriate building materials, which means almost constant repair work and today the huge main gate was entirely surrounded by scaffolding.

We paid the entrance fee of €6 each and competed with several organized tour groups as we went through the courtyard and into the succession of rooms and exhibits. It was quite interesting but we didn’t rate it as highly as the Archaeological Museum that we had visited the previous day and after an hour we had seen most of what there was to see and we were back out in the sunshine.

The old town was busy today which was no real surprise because Sofia had told us at breakfast that there were seven cruise ships due to stop by and visit today so we kept away from the crowded main squares and shopping streets and once again dropped into the back streets of the Turkish quarter and walked right through to one of the southern gates of the city. Temporarily leaving the old town we walked for a few hundred metres on the outer side of the walls through the new town. It was busy, grubby and dirty and we were glad when we reached the next gate and were able to return to the quieter streets of the old Jewish quarter. Quieter because although this used to be a thriving Jewish area they were all expelled during the Nazi occupation late in the Second-World-War and the Jewish community have never returned.

After a refreshing Mythos at the street corner bar we returned to the Sofia Pension for the afternoon and spent the afternoon relaxing on the terrace with a couple of beers.

During the three days we had tried to capture pictures of the Street of Knights at various times and in different lights so in the early evening we walked there once more and stayed there until the sun had completely disappeared in the west and the subdued street lights brought a different atmosphere to the place with a waxy glow reflecting off the pitted stonework of the walls.

When it was no longer possible to take pictures we walked back through the busy streets ignoring the waiters as we went and made for the Jewish quarter once more where we planned to eat at Kostas’ Restaurant which was one of Sofia’s recommendations. It wasn’t especially late but it was really busy already and we couldn’t get a table in the main dining room so had to sit in the hallway instead. It was so busy that the service wasn’t that good and although the food excellent I think on reflection we could have found somewhere better for our final meal in Rhodes.

To get back to our room we had to go through the Turkish quarter and past a Mosque where a service had clearly just finished. I took a look inside at the brightly coloured carpets and wall hangings but I didn’t think it was appropriate to go through the door. There were lots of men outside and one of them told me that this was an important night for Muslims because this was the last day of Ramadan. Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar and is the month of fasting in which Muslims refrain from eating, drinking and sexual relations during the hours of daylight. Fasting is intended to teach Muslims about patience, humility, and spirituality. It is a time for Muslims to fast for the sake of God and to offer more prayer than usual. During Ramadan, Muslims ask forgiveness for past sins, pray for guidance and help in refraining from everyday evils, and try to purify themselves through self-restraint and good deeds. They all seemed a bit excited tonight and I suspect they were all going on to a party.

Greece 2010, Rhodes Town and an Unexpected Dinner Invitation

We enjoyed three days staying in the city and made a couple of other visits as well, the harbour was bustling with activity and although we didn’t especially like the new town the old town was spectacular with a castle and city walls, old churches and an abundance of historical sites. We explored the back streets and the ruins, some of which were the result of British bombing in 1944 which made us feel guilty.

On the first morning we woke early and went to the Street of the Knights because this is one of the best preserved/restored medieval streets in Europe and we wanted to get there before the crowds. As soon as the cruise ships arrive and discharge their guests onto the quayside hundreds of people make straight for this place and it immediately loses its atmosphere and its charm. At eight o’clock in the morning however there was no one about except the odd delivery man and it was possible to soak up the medieval ambiance of the place.

All of this medieval history is here on Rhodes because in 1309 the Island was occupied by forces of the Knights Hospitaller and under the rule of the newly named ‘Knights of Rhodes’ the city was rebuilt into a model of the European medieval ideal. Many of the city’s famous monuments, including the Palace of the Grand Master, were built during this period. The citadel of Rhodes, built by the Hospitalliers, is one of the best preserved medieval towns in Europe, which in 1988 was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Gradually however the strong walls which the Knights had built came under siege and withstood the attacks of the Sultan of Egypt in 1444, and of Mehmed II in 1480. Ultimately, however, Rhodes fell to the large army of Suleiman the Magnificent in 1522 and the surviving Knights were permitted to retire to the Kingdom of Sicily before later moving their base of operations to the strategically placed island of Malta. The Knights had ruled the island for two hundred years but Rhodes was thereafter a possession of the Ottoman Empire for nearly four centuries and during this time the city acquired a characteristic eastern and Turkish culture and style.

In the nineteenth century the decline of the Ottoman Empire resulted in the general neglect of the town and its buildings, which further deteriorated due to strong earthquakes and in 1912, Italy seized Rhodes from the Turks. Under the terms of the Treaty of Lausanne, the island, together with the Dodecanese, was officially assigned to Italy.

The Italians would later demolish the houses that were built on and around the city walls during the Ottoman era. They also turned the Jewish and Ottoman cemeteries into a green zone surrounding the Medieval Town and whilst they preserved what was left from the Knights’ period they destroyed all of the Ottoman buildings. During the Second-World-War, following the Italian Armistice of September 8th 1943, the British attempted to get the Italian garrison on Rhodes to change sides but this was anticipated by the German Army, which succeeded in occupying the island. In 1948, together with the other islands of the Dodecanese, Rhodes was united with Greece.

In the morning we visited the City museum which was fascinating but had rather too many old pots to keep my interest for very long and an hour was long enough for both of us so we walked around the harbour and under the city walls around the gardens in what was once the defensive dry moat. We had learnt to say no with some authority by now and dodging the persistent waiters we explored the much quieter Turkish quarter before finding a bar with a shady spot for a lunch time drink.

Later in the afternoon while I sat on the terrace with a book Kim went to a Turkish bath for an exfoliation and a massage but I declined to join her because if truth be known I am quite attached to my dead skin and by this time I was nine days into a self cleansing experiment and a good scrubbing would have ruined it.

In the early evening we sat chatting to some people, a New Yorker and a young woman from Lichtenstein who worked together in Luxembourg as investment bankers and a student from Bosnia who studied at the University there. They were young show-offs really and I couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t at work sorting out the banking crisis that people like them at created rather than sitting around on holiday in Rhodes sailing and scuba diving but chatting to them turned to our advantage when we received an unexpected dinner invitation.

The room owners Sofia and Phillip were cooking for them and as they prepared the tables they invited us to join them for a home prepared meal of dolmades and possibly the best beef stifado we have ever tasted. We had an excellent meal and swapped increasingly boastful travel stories and Sofia told us all about Greek cuisine. We have the recipe for the stifado but we are pessimistically certain that it will take some recreating to achieve that authentic taste.

Greece 2010, Lindos to Rhodes

There was no particular rush to leave Lindos and we planned to catch the eleven o’clock bus to the city and this gave us plenty of time to have breakfast on the terrace and then settle up. We didn’t anticipate the problem however with the credit card payment machine which eventually managed to charge me three times and required the owner to attend from somewhere in the village to straighten matters out, a process which used up most of the spare time that we had factored in.

It took an hour and ten minutes to get back to Rhodes using for most of the journey the same road that we had taken to drive to Lindos three days earlier but on this occasion thankfully bypassing Falaraki and Kalathea and arriving at just about lunch time. From the bus stop we walked through noisy Ippokratous Square and back to the little taverna where we had had lunch on the first day for a drink, a short rest and some map interpretation. It turned out that the Sofia Pension wasn’t that far away and after our drink we found it easily within ten minutes.

Our accommodation in Rhodes turned out to be first class, functional and unexciting from the outside but with a well furnished room and a delightful walled garden and sun terrace inside. It was situated inside the old town walls barely a hundred metres from the boisterous main shopping street of Socrates and busy Ippokratous Square but was surprisingly quiet set in a labyrinth of narrow alleys and shady lanes and squeezed in between the old Turkish quarter with its abandoned Mosques and erect minarets piercing the perfect blue sky on the one side and the run down old Jewish quarter on the other. The friendly owner showed us to a nice traditional room with good air conditioning and outside a nice shady terrace with tumbling vines, the aroma of mimosa and jasmine and randomly placed pots of vibrant geraniums.

The island of Rhodes is probably one of the most fascinating of all Greek islands. It has been inhabited for six thousand years and due to its unique geographical position on the major Mediterranean Sea trade routes is at a crossroads between Europe, the Middle East, and Africa and this has given the city and the island many different identities, cultures, architectures, and languages over its long history. In the afternoon we went for a stroll through the back streets of the old town; cobbled, narrow, twisting and moody with long shadows thrown down by the tall stone buildings next to narrow looping lanes and intriguing alleyways. It was like being transported back six hundred years and it was almost possible to imagine the medieval knights swaggering, bullying and clanking through the streets. In this quieter part of the old town there were shops and tavernas but also artisans houses and small workshops next to people’s houses where whole families seemed to be living in a single room and if this wasn’t cramped enough then sometimes even shared with a motorbike or scooter as well.

Eventually we left the back streets and emerged on Socrates Street where shops were doing brisk trade selling to the rich people from the cruise ships. At a shop selling silks and fabrics Kim stopped to take a picture and was immediately chastised by the owner for not asking permission. He demanded €10, she laughed and he chased away down the street in a whirlwind of hand gestures and chattering chastisements.

Tired of the continuous uninvited attention of the traders and the waiters trying to generate business we made our way back into the warren of back streets and through the Turkish Quarter which not surprisingly all felt a bit eastern and oriental with shops selling carpets, hookahs and Turkish coffee. We walked through arches and buttresses, past turrets and balconies and occasionally a little oasis of green amongst the dusty streets and then interesting narrow roads and every one with a surprise around each crooked turn.

In the late afternoon we walked to the top of the town and climbed to the top of the restored clock tower next to Sulliman’s Mosque for some good views of the town and the harbour. There was an entrance charge of €5 but that turned out to be good value because the price included a drink in the roof top bar terrace where we sat and enjoyed the views.

The rest of the day was spent on the terrace and as evening approached we slipped again into the back streets behind the hotel and had an unhurried evening meal in a pleasant little restaurant close by. I must have had too much wine because on the way back to the room I showed unusual amounts of interest in some cheap glass necklaces and Kim took advantage of this momentary slip up on my part and spent some time choosing and then purchasing three when she didn’t really need any.

Greece 2010, Two Almost Similar Days in Lindos

The next day after breakfast we took the advice of our neighbours and took the bus to Pefkas which turned out to be an unremarkable little place but as promised it did have a very nice beach. There were a few sun beds and umbrellas at €8 a time but also plenty of space left over for blanket people like us. The sea was nice and deeper than Lindos so swimming was better and if I had had room in my luggage for a snorkel I am certain there would have been plenty of fish to watch.

It was a nice spot with a cool breeze and the sound of gentle lapping waves but, as I have explained before, we are not really beach people and two hours is generally more than enough. We have never owned up to this to each other but I suspect we are both secretly hoping that the other one will be the first to say the magic words ‘shall we pack up then and go and have a drink?’ and certainly there has never really been any debate on this matter that I can ever remember. And so it was today and as boredom levels began to rise we packed up and strolled back to the bus stop stopping on the way in the centre for a Mythos.

Like most places on Rhodes, and indeed Lindos, there were some restaurants and tavernas and they all had unnecessary pictures of the food on display boards outside. I really don’t like that and I don’t see the point of it either. Surely most people know what a chicken kebab looks like and if they want to see a picture of a moussaka they can see that every week in Tesco or Morrisons? And what’s more the pictures don’t generally look like what you are likely to get anyway so I find it all a bit distasteful and common. But then again Rhodes is an airport island and there were quite a lot of football shirts and tattoo people wandering about and they probably welcomed this sort of assistance with making dining selections.

The amount of tattoos on display was incredible and almost as many women as men with decorated bodies proudly showing them off. Personally I cannot understand why anyone, unless they are a Maori, would want to disfigure themselves in this way but here on Rhodes it seemed as though they were almost in the majority.

We caught the ten past two bus back to Lindos and once back at the Chrysa Studios Kim declared it too hot to do anything except enjoy the air conditioned room so I sat on the terrace for a while and then worried that I might be missing something in the village went for a walk to find some streets that we might have overlooked so far.

As I walked around the corkscrew lanes and became confused in the maze of alleys I found myself at the beginning of the path to the Acropolis so although we were planning to visit tomorrow, just out of curiosity I walked to the top to see how much it was going to cost. It was quite a climb and the well worn path was slippery and precipitous but at least I had had a practice ahead of the next day.

On the next day we had slipped completely into routine and we did the same things over again. First we had breakfast on the terrace and because we had liked the beach at Pefkas in preference to Lindos we caught the bus there for a second time. Two hours on the beach, a drink at the same bar and the ten past two bus back to Lindos.

For the afternoon we did plan something different and the visit to the Acropolis. We had waited until Sunday because sometimes museums and archaeological sites are free on Sunday so we thought it was worth the wait until the last day in Lindos. When the time came to tackle the steps and the walk Kim declared herself too hot and tired so I had to go alone and when I got there was disappointed to find that you do have to pay on a Sunday after all.

The walk and the climb to the entrance to the site actually turned out to be the easy bit because once inside there was an energy sapping ascent up a steep stone staircase with a sheer drop on each side to the entrance to the medieval fortress which was built by the Knight’s of Saint John in the fourteenth century to defend the island against the Ottoman Turks.

There were some good views from the top as I walked first through the foundations and the towers of the castle and the Byzantine church and then to the very top and the ancient Acropolis itself, the DoricTemple of Athena Lindia, the Propylaea of the Sanctuary, a huge staircase and a Hellenistic Stoa and finally the remains of a Roman Temple. Although hundreds of people visit this place every day four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon turned out to be a very good time to go indeed because there were no more than a dozen or so people here right now so it was easy to walk around and admire the ruins undisturbed.

They are ruins of course but some of the buildings and columns have been restored and in the twentieth century there was a lot of archeological and restoration work carried out by the Italians when they were in control here between the two world wars. Unfortunately some of the work they carried out wasn’t that good and as well as incorrectly reinterpreting some of the construction they also used poor quality materials and a lot of the reinforced concrete they used has begun to fail leading to even worse damage than they tried to rectify and most of this work is having to be done again at great cost under the supervision of the Greek Ministry of Culture.

It was still very hot and the walk had made me hungry and thirsty so I bought some pizza and beer and went back to the apartment where Kim was just about planning her shopping trip to the silver workshop having taken a couple of days to make up her mind which piece of jewellery she was going to buy.

In the evening we finally broke with routine and instead of Kamariko and the irritating waiter we found an alternative restaurant with a roof top terrace and we enjoyed a lazy meal in a cool breeze without waiter interruption and with free sweet and complimentary ouzo. This was our last night in Lindos, we had enjoyed it but we were ready to move on back to Rhodes town and over Metaxa on the balcony we reflected on our four days and made our plans for the next day.

Greece 2010, Lindos

There was no wind today and it was already hot on the balcony by breakfast time and unfortunately because of yesterday’s little accident there was no umbrella for shade. I walked to the mini-market for provisions and then we enjoyed a Lindian breakfast that we prepared for ourselves and ate on the terrace with its lovely view of the ancient and important village of Lindos. Here history stretches back over three thousand years and Lindos grew to prosperity under the Knights of St. John who built their fortress on the site of the ancient Acropolis. So much of the medieval village has survived that it has been declared a national landmark.

Because of its east coast location, Lindos is the hottest place on Rhodes and even in September by mid morning it was much too hot to sit on the terrace so we set off down the steep uneven steps towards the shady streets of the village and heading for the beach. Once past the steps where we had to watch every move it was a real delight to walk around the narrow streets with their traditional, distinctive, white and black chochlaki pebbled surface because no vehicles other than the odd delivery van are allowed inside. The village felt authentic because little or no changes can be made to the buildings, many of which have survived since the fifteenth century and the architectural style of the village is a mixture of Gothic, Byzantine Greek and middle Eastern influence.

Although there are no vehicles we did have to watch out for the donkeys that every day transport hundreds, probably thousands, of day visitors from the bottom of the village to the steps of the Acropolis and then back down again. I rode on a donkey here in 1997 and it seemed cruel so I vowed I wouldn’t do it again but later at lunchtime Mario explained that there are four hundred donkeys who work for two days and then get a day off and that working is good for them because they live an average twenty-one years which is seven years longer than a donkey that has nothing to do and I have to confess that they did look healthy and well looked after. We didn’t go on one though!

Eventually after a long descent we reached the first small beach which was full of sun loungers and umbrellas for people who stay there all day and no room to put down a towel for people like us who only stay for an hour or so. Not being prepared to pay €8 for the beds we continued to walk towards the main larger beach where there was some space on the stony scruffy bits behind the umbrellas where it was at least possible to make our own arrangements.

We swam in the sea and that was nice but we didn’t really like the beach all that much because it was much too organized for us with regimented rows of sun beds all crammed together in such a way as to make it difficult for cheapskates like us to put our towels down and avoid the charge and let’s face it €8 is quite a lot of money that we calculated would soon add up over a fortnight’s holiday. As well as the sun beds there were pedaloes, canoes, diving instruction and water sports and on balance we preferred the rock on Symi so we didn’t stay too long.

After a cold drink at a busy beach bar we walked back into the village which was bustling now with coach loads of visitors pushing and shoving through the narrow streets. There was a pretty whitewashed church at the bottom of the village which was built by the Knights in the fourteenth century and had some lovely frescoes and decorated floors but as there was an entrance charge and photography was forbidden we made do with admiring it through the door without going inside.

After lunch at Mario’s again we explored the other side of the village where the shops and bars petered out to be replaced with narrow streets of local houses where the smell of fresh moussaka and tide washing powder seeped out from behind the windows and doors. At the far end of the village there was an ancient amphitheatre, almost two thousand five-hundred years old and so adjacent to the modern buildings that it is certain there are more hidden treasures concealed below them which must have archaeologists drooling with anticipation.

Back at the apartment by late afternoon the terrace was much more comfortable now because the sun had swung to the west and was disappearing quickly behind the mountain range backbone of the island and by six o’clock the entire village was in shadow with only the massive outcrop of rock and the Acropolis remaining bathed in early evening sunshine. It was delightful so we sat for a while and enjoyed it and when it got dark we changed and went for evening meal at the same restaurant where the same irritating waiter pestered us again but the food was excellent so whilst we would rather that he hadn’t we didn’t really mind.

On the way out Kim convinced me that there was an alternative way down but it turned out that this was really just a ruse to make sure we passed a silver jewellery workshop directly below the apartments where she had a great time looking at the sparkly things on display and debating which particular piece to buy.

Pete and Jane and their friends John and Zoe were on the balcony so we joined them and Jane introduced us to the joys of Greek Metaxa brandy which we declared such a liking for we thought we might buy a bottle for ourselves the next day. We told them that we hadn’t especially enjoyed the beach experience at Lindos and with their extensive local knowledge of the area they recommended that we should try the beach at the next village of Pefkas instead which they assured us was quieter and less organized.

Greece 2010, Symi to Lindos

The ferry docked in Rhodes just before half past nine and already the harbour was busy, noisy and hot. We had to walk about five hundred metres to the bus stop where we purchased tickets for the Lindos bus which was due in about ten minutes time. The bus said no. 6, the ticket said no. 6 but we still did the usual thing of double checking this with the driver and then just to make sure checking again with two or three other passengers as well as we got on the bus and moved down the aisle. This is a curious English behaviour which makes us mistrustful of transport systems and although we know it is the right bus or train or boat, because we have just heard the person in front ask exactly the same question and be told exactly the same answer, we just have to double and triple check.

The bus left Rhodes and drove through the untidy suburbs of the new town, stopping frequently and filling up quickly with people going to the east coast resort beaches for the day and soon the bus was full to capacity. The road to Lindos took us first through Kalathea with its ribbon of high rise package tour hotels and then to the party town of Falaraki, which once had a reputation for being mad and dangerous but is apparently not so bad now because the party scene has moved to Kavos on Corfu. Falaraki is trying to change its reputation but as far as I could see it remains a bit of a dump with English pubs, wide screen televisions and a string of fast food places which would make it one of the last places in Greece that I would ever want to visit. Kim missed all of this because as usual on public transport she was fast asleep.

After Falaraki the bus drove through barren hills punctuated with the occasional village and town and then through acres of olive groves before it dropped down to the bay of Lindos before arriving at the busy bus terminal where it dropped us off. Finding the Chrysa Studios was a lot more difficult than it should have been but eventually the owner came to help us and walk with us the two hundred metres to the apartments.

They were excellent and in a perfect location with an uninterrupted view of the village and the Acropolis on the other side. Unfortunately our stay here began with a disaster. It was a hot day so Kim put the terrace umbrella up and sat in the shade but it was also very windy and an especially strong gust unexpectedly blew the canvas inside out shattering the wooden struts as it did so with an ear splitting crack as the whole thing completely disintegrated. The owner wasn’t especially pleased about this and I could see a bill coming our way so as this wasn’t a particularly good start we abandoned the terrace and went for a walk into the village instead.

Because of the early start we had skipped breakfast but now it was lunch time so we were a bit hungry so we found a suitable looking place called Mario’s with our sort of (low) prices and went inside. The way we select a taverna is to look at the price of a Greek salad and a Mythos to make sure they are in our target price range and while satisfying ourselves on this point we hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to anything else and we were surprised when we looked around to see a sign for English roast Sunday lunches and another for Pukka pies and we wondered if we had made a mistake. We needn’t have worried however because there was a good Greek menu and Mario himself explained that he liked to offer as diverse a menu as he possibly could. We choose the Greek!

After an excellent lunch we walked around for a while but Kim was tired so we went back to the room where she slept and I read and later on the balcony that we shared with our next door neighbours we met Pete and Jane who proudly told us that they liked Lindos so much that this was their twentieth consecutive year of holidaying here. For someone who gets bored after three days I cannot even begin to imagine how dull that must be but it was useful for us because they were able to give us an address book full of dining recommendations as we chatted.

Later we took their advice and went to a restaurant called Kamariko which had a roof top terrace with a view of the Acropolis, a good menu and excellent food but an irritating Russian waiter who sat himself down uninvited at our table and insisted on talking to us for fifteen minutes or so. To compensate for this intrusion there were complimentary sweets and a free shot of grappa so we declared the first day in Lindos a great success, paid, left and went back for a final drink on the terrace.

Greece 2010, Two Symilar Days in Symi

Overheated and itching madly we woke early and as we drank tea we were startled by the clatter of donkey hooves on the marble steps as they began their heavy days work carrying building materials from the top of Kali Strata to the bottom over and over again.

We had breakfast on the sun terrace and prompted by Kim I reminded the woman about the promise of air conditioning repairs but I wasn’t terrible confident about this when she shrugged her shoulders in a sort of ‘how should I know and do I care anyway’ sort of gesture and looked at me with a distinctly blank face. I reported this to Kim but for some reason she was a lot more confident than I think she had a right to be.

We walked to the harbour and along the harbour perimeter road and past the sponge shops. Sponge fishing used to be really big in Symi but over fishing and then disease almost drove the valuable creatures to extinction, trade collapsed and many sponge divers left the island to take up similar employment in Florida in the USA. In the next bay were the remains of the ship building industry and that was a disaster story as well because in the nineteenth century Symi was famous for its high quality boats but it built so many that it cut down all of its trees and ran out of wood. No business sustainability plan – that was the problem!

For a while we walked along a new road that climbed steadily without ever getting anywhere so abandoned that and clambered down the rocks instead to a secluded rock where we were able to go naked swimming in the inviting sea. The last time in the sea was in the testicle shrinking temperatures of the English Channel but this was nothing like as challenging and we enjoyed an undisturbed swim in the silky warm water of the Aegean Sea.

After a swim we walked back to the Pantheon via the bars of the harbour for a drink and the mini market to purchase lunch and then went to see who was right about the air conditioning repairs. It was me of course so Kim phoned Andreas whose excuse was that unfortunately things get done only slowly on Symi so prospects didn’t look very good.

After self prepared lunch we waited around for a while to see if the repair man would turn up and watched the builders working on the renovation of a property opposite. We were amused by the lack of health and safety as men struggled to manoeuver heavy roofing timbers into place without any mechanical assistance at all. Waiting for the repair man was proving to be a complete waste of time so we abandoned the vigil and returned once again to Ano Symi passing again the man on crutches who was also surprisingly repeating yesterday’s epic struggle to the top of the town.

We visited the rather disappointing redundant windmills, climbed to the very highest of the blue domed churches and passed by the old derelict kastro before finishing with a Mythos on a roof terrace bar and then returning to the accommodation to prepare for a second night out dining at the same taverna as the previous evening.

The evening was even hotter and more uncomfortable than the previous night but with extra applications of mosquito repellent we got through without any more bites. When I say got through that is not strictly true because Kim was so uncomfortable that she was up two hours before dawn at five o’clock and out visiting the harbour even before the sun, like me, was showing any interest in the day.

We had enjoyed the first full day in Symi so much that we did exactly the same things all over again with just a few variations to see the places that we thought we might have previously missed. It seemed that there might be an air conditioning repair today because the woman at the apartments asked us to leave our keys which she explained that she would just casually leave on the window ledge for the repair man to let himself in but we refused to do that so that seemed to scupper the prospects immediately.

The reason we like island hopping holidays is that we both become restless and fidgety after a couple of days and like to move on to something new. There is nothing worse than routine on holiday but the trouble is that it can quickly establish itself and we demonstrated that today. First we repeated yesterday’s harbour walk, but did visit a church that we had missed before, and then we returned to what we thought was our private rock for a little more swimming but sadly our personal rock by the sea was unusually busy today so that meant no naked swimming this time. A lunchtime drink, lunch at the apartment, a rest (after her unusually early start Kim was a bit disorientated today), a walk to Ano Symi, and a pedicure for Kim passed away the rest of the day.

On our first walks it had been the stunning views over the harbour that had mostly caught our eye but we were used to all of that by this stage and now we had established an eye for the detail. One of the things that spoiled Symi was the careless attitude that the islanders seem to have towards waste disposal and we couldn’t help noticing that the derelict mansions were being used as convenient rubbish dumps and all of those that hadn’t been secured were being used as unlawful landfill sites, which was a great shame.

The air conditioning repair man didn’t arrive of course but at least I was able to negotiate a 20% discount on the room with Andreas because of the inconvenience and after a third evening meal at the same taverna we suffered another uncomfortable night in sweltering temperatures and worrying about mosquitoes. In the morning we packed and left before breakfast and made our way down the Kali Strata and to the harbour to catch the half past eight Dodekanisos Express ferry back to Rhodes. The hotel web site described the breakfast as sumptuous but in reality it was basic and quite poor so we weren’t devastated about missing it.

As we sat on the open top deck the sun began to spread from behind the mountains and as we left golden rays spilled into the horseshoe shaped harbour and brought the colourful houses to life and as the ferry left and Symi slipped away we were glad that we had added this island to our growing list of those visited on our Aegean odyssey. We had enjoyed three days here but we were now ready to move on.

Greece 2010, Symi, Ano Symi and the Harbour

After we had settled in, cooled off and calmed down we decided to do a little exploring and as we had already seen the harbour today we walked further up the Kali Strata towards the upper town of Ano Symi passing on the way dozens of abandoned once grand mansions that were built over a hundred years ago when Symi’s sponge fishing and ship building industries were both thriving but which fell into decline in the first half of the twentieth century when both suffered serious economic failure. Other houses were damaged during the Second-World-War during the German occupation and empty shells stand adjacent to some, like the Pantheon, that have been restored. Rules on restoration are very strict and this together with difficulties of access for modern vehicles (the only viable means of transporting building materials is by expensive donkey train) means that the cost of a restoration is often prohibitive and for this reason the whole process of regeneration is likely to take some considerable time.

The pace of life in the narrow shady streets of Ano Symi was much more relaxed than the busy harbour and we enjoyed exploring the crooked cobbled streets, admiring the old houses as we went and visiting the inevitable white churches built on the tops of the highest hills. Kim continued to complain about the steep steps but eventually felt guilty about that when we came across disabled man with crutches valiantly making his way to the top and, with great difficulty, stopping every now and again to take photographs, which sort of put the whole thing into a very different perspective.

There were some spectacular views from the top and after a drink in a wine bar we started the descent back to the Pantheon. It was easier going down and we could fully appreciate the spectacle of the colourful harbour with its rows of houses, restaurants and shops and the increasing number of holiday sailing boats that were arriving for an overnight stop in the town.

After a couple of hours rest we changed and walked back down to the harbour for evening meal passing and admiring the stamina and perseverance of the disabled man as we went. The harbour was much busier tonight and on the boats people were partying and having a good time over dinner before hitting the bars later. We had spotted a nice looking taverna earlier with simple blue check tablecloths and rustic furniture and although it was almost full the busy waiter obligingly found us a vacant table.

There followed an excellent meal of traditional Greek plates and interesting conversation, first with an elderly couple from Hunstanton who visit Symi every year and then a couple of walkers who gave us some tips on trails and sights. We shared our whinging story about the accommodation and lamented the lack of air conditioning in the room. They were sympathetic but he explained that he found it easier to sleep without this modern comfort and tried to reassure us that if we kept the windows open then we were sure to be nice and comfortable regardless.

Three hours later and stewing in our own sweat in temperatures of over 30º centigrade in an inappropriately pine paneled bedroom I was fairly certain that Kim did not entirely agree! And to make matters worse, sleeping with the windows open simply invited the mosquitoes to drop by and we discovered that the problem with lying on top of the sheets with no clothes on meant that we were laid out like an all-you-can-eat buffet table for creepy-crawlies. I don’t like all-you-can-eat buffets much myself because I invariably overload the plate and eat too much and the mosquitoes suffered from the same lack of self restraint because in the morning Kim was suffering from fifteen irritating bites. I had only a couple and considering how many Mythos I had drunk the previous day took pleasure from imagining that the little blighter that got me would most likely be suffering from a monster hang-over!

Greece 2010, 200 Steps in Symi

The Dodekanisos Seaways ferry to Symi left Rhodes at half past eight so there wasn’t time for breakfast at the Caravel before we caught a taxi from the hotel to take us to the harbour. As usual the fare was more than the advertised fixed rate but being ripped-off by Greek taxi drivers is just inevitable and the reason why, whenever possible, I avoid using them. The Dodekanisos Express was the type of ferry that we don’t really like, a high speed with matching prices but we were early enough to bag a seat on the open top deck rather than sit inside and as the warmth of the sun began to strengthen we waited for cast off and the forty kilometre, fifty minute crossing which took us close to the coast of nearby Turkey and docked right on schedule.

The approach to the harbour town of Symi was probably the most spectacular of all the islands that we have visited flanked on both sides by colourful neoclassical houses in a riot of complimentary pastel shades, contrasting wooden shutters, decorative iron balconies and red tiled roofs. It reminded us of Santorini but the difference here was that the houses spilled right down to the water’s edge rather than sit on the top of black volcanic cliffs and the ferry docked right in the middle of the attractive town rather than ten kilometres away on a chunk of ugly concrete.

When arriving by ferry we have become accustomed to being met by someone from the apartments to take us to our accommodation and we looked for someone with a sign announcing the Pantheon Mansion but as the crowd drifted away and dispersed into the surrounding streets it was clear that there was no one there and we would have to find the place for ourselves. Another apartment owner that we spoke to thought this was bad form and so did we but things were about to get even worse.

We walked around the harbour with the expensive yachts and the local fishing boats competing for space on one side and on the other rows of bars and shops selling all varieties of sponges, which is just about the only thing the little island is famous for. Not being absolutely sure of the location of the Pantheon we stopped in a bar and telephoned the number on the booking confirmation but no one answered.

After a couple of further unsuccessful attempts we abandoned this approach and asked for walking directions. The people that we asked all indicated that it was up a steep road called the Kali Strata with a lot of steps to negotiate and as they gave instructions they looked sympathetically at our bags as if to say ‘oh dear, rather you than me…’ but with no real alternative we carried on and predictably I took the wrong turning and we had climbed about fifty precarious steps before it was obvious it was the wrong way and we had to turn back and start again.

At the second attempt we found the correct street and then we started to climb; and we climbed and we climbed and we climbed until Kim could physically climb no more and gave up before she passed out. I carried on and after nearly two hundred steps with great relief found the Pantheon Mansion and partially collapsed! After getting my breath back I returned to give Kim the good news and help her to the apartments.

It wasn’t all good news however because the place was deserted, there was no one to meet us, no notes pinned to the door or instructions giving any sort of advice at all on what to do and the phone was still not being answered. It was eleven o’clock and extremely hot and all we could do was sit on the sun terrace, sweat and wait. Luckily I had a couple of tins of Mythos in the bag so I had to drink them quickly before they heated up in the sun and after an hour so and after I had almost recovered from the ordeal of the climb I went all the way back down the steps to get some more and to buy some food for lunch.

Getting back up the steps returned me to my previous state of sweat streaked exhaustion and what I really needed was a cool blast of air conditioning but still the phone remained unanswered and still no one came. A French guest came and went and told us that usually someone came by at about two o’clock so this meant that we would have an hour or so to wait so we made some lunch and drank some more Mythos and competed for the shade of the wooden pergola.

Two o’clock came and went and so did two-thirty and Kim was beginning to lose her patience and then was suddenly successful in getting an answer on the mobile phone. There were apologies of course and a promise that someone would be there soon so it seemed the situation was improving. Sadly it wasn’t because the only person that turned up was a six year old boy with a key to a room that he was reluctant to hand over because as it turned out the air conditioning was broken. A few minutes later a workman, who might have been his father, arrived and allocated us an alternative but greatly inferior room and we had to phone Andreas, the owner, again. Andreas wasn’t anywhere near of course, he was somewhere on the Greek mainland so wasn’t a lot of help but eventually a woman arrived who spoke a little English and after a conversation with the owner she moved us to our original room (which was very good it has to be said) with a promise of repairs to the air conditioning tomorrow. This was a bit of a nuisance but we accepted and moved in.

Greece 2010, a short walk from Ixia to Rhodes Town

I had stayed in Ixia before in 1997 and on the next morning I assured Kim that it was just a short walk to Rhodes town so we skipped breakfast and set off along the coastal walk.

Now, I know that I am getting older and this might start affecting my memory but this little walk turned out to be much further that I ever remembered. For a start it took quite a while to get to the hotel where I stayed previously at the Rodos Palace and then the little bar that we used to use, the Surf Bar, which I remembered being right next door but was in fact about five hundred metres further on. I really did genuinely believe that it was just a five minute stroll and the odd thing is that I don’t remember my teenage children complaining once but after half an hour Kim was in full whinging mode. I had allocated her a maximum five whinges a day for the holiday but by mid morning she had used up almost all of the first week’s allowance.

As it turned out it was a five kilometre walk from the Caravel apartments to the town of Rhodes and the day was getting hotter and hotter and hotter. Through the haze of heat we could just about make out the coast of Turkey and the island of Symi, where we would be going tomorrow, as we walked past old fishermen’s houses now long converted into holiday homes at the side of a rather untidy black gravel beach. Every few metres Kim would enquire how much further I thought it was and as the walk continued the truth began to dawn on me that it was an awful long way. ‘Not far now’ and ‘just around the next corner’ were the sort of encouraging words that used to work well with my children but Kim wasn’t fooled by my false optimism and I began to sense that I wasn’t too popular this morning.

Eventually we reached the beaches of Rhodes with their rows of umbrellas flapping limply in what little breeze there was and people laid out in search of the all over tan and then we were in the shady streets of the new town and were heading for the harbour.

Not only had I forgotten how far it was to walk from Ixia but I was also surprised by the size of the city which turned out to be much bigger than I ever remembered. We were on the western side and we reached the part where the new town gives way to the old where we stopped for a drink and purchased a map to help us with our navigation.

One reason for bothering to walk to Rhodes today was to collect the tickets for tomorrow’s early morning ferry to Symi and as I looked at the map there was a terrible realisation that there was still a long way to walk and this was likely not to be well received by Kim so for now I just kept this bit of bad news to myself and enjoyed a glass of beer.

After this short break we carried on and walked around the walls of the old fortress competing all the time with impatient traffic and reckless drivers who made no allowance for pedestrians. On the busy main road there were occasional zebra crossings but these were only there for highway decoration and certainly not to provide any sort of priority to people on foot. If you used one of these things carelessly there was a very high chance of being knocked over and the only compensation, as you lay in a hospital bed in great pain, would be to know that the man (or woman) who put you there would probably, technically be in the wrong!

Inside the city walls the main squares and shopping streets were really busy, In Ippokratous Square noisy waiters were pestering people to go inside the high level balconied tavernas and it was impossible to look at a menu without a high pressure sales pitch and an unnecessary run through the picture menu which was always exactly the same as all of the others. Off the square was the main shopping street of Socrates stretching away to Sulliman’s Mosque at the top of a gradual climb and in the other direction was a maze of narrow lanes snaking away and crammed on either side with shops and bars.

I was anxious to get the ferry tickets so I left Kim to poke about the shops and I followed the map to where I thought the ticket office was. I walked quite a way and then stopped to enquire and was directed all the way back to a harbour side kiosk close to the Marine Gate and actually only fifty metres from Ippokratous square so I was back a lot earlier than the thirty minutes rendezvous time that we had agreed which gave me time to look for a suitable place for lunch and I found a nice taverna with blue check table cloths in a shady street behind the main square with better prices and a much less frenzied atmosphere.

After lunch we walked through the old town and past the Palace of the Grand Masters but we didn’t want to stop and see anything today because we were due back in Rhodes in a week’s time for a three night stay so now that we had the ferry tickets we walked through one of the city gates and back to the new town where being completely lost we asked directions back to the seafront where Kim was determined to find a bus stop for the journey back to Ixia. We found one and only had to wait a few minutes for a green and cream bus to arrive and take us the short ten-minute drive back to our hotel.

Back at the Caravel Kim had a sleep to get over the rigours of the walk while I read on the balcony and then in the late afternoon sunshine went to the small hotel swimming pool which we had completely to ourselves for an hour or so. Later we walked to the beach for the sunset which didn’t let us down and then took advantage of the 15% discount offer in the hotel restaurant again. After dinner we sat on the balcony of the room and even though this wasn’t the greatest hotel bedroom view in the world by any stretch of the imagination we agreed that we liked it anyway.

Rhodes 1977

Greece 2010, Ixia

After four consecutive years island hopping in the Cyclades this year it was time for a change. Not because we are tired of this picturesque ring of islands and not because we were robbed in Athens last year on the way home but mainly because the flight schedules had changed and there was no Luton to Athens option this year. Instead we found cheap flights from Liverpool to Rhodes for just £82 each return which were too good to miss so we agreed that this year we would visit the Dodecanese islands instead.

The drive to Liverpool was a long one and as it was bank holiday weekend and not having made this journey before we gave ourselves plenty of time to get there for the early afternoon flight. As it turned out the journey was especially straight-forward and we arrived in Liverpool with more spare time than we really needed. The only minor hitch was with the car parking because although I had booked a space in advance the car park was full so the attendant had to make alternative arrangements which luckily for us included an upgrade to a short stay car park right outside departures. The car park charge for fourteen nights was a very reasonable £48 but a friend of mine, from Liverpool himself, said that he thought this was because although I had booked fourteen nights I was only being charged for two because after that the car would most likely be stolen!

We now had three hours to wait for the flight and I felt as though I was in a different country already. We usually fly from Stansted so are used to the familiar voices of Essex whine or the home counties la-di-da but here we were surrounded by Manchester accents as brittle as a frozen dime bar and the unmistakable adenoidal scouse.

The flight was almost on time, which is unusual for Easyjet but as soon as we were all on board the cabin crew announced the inevitable thirty minute delay. There were some moans and groans around the cabin but then something unusual happened. I know Liverpool is the home of comedy but I didn’t expect the captain of the plane to come out of the cockpit and do a fifteen minute stand up routine! At first most people were a bit unsure just what was going on but after a while everyone relaxed and he had everyone chuckling and giggling with a sequence of well rehearsed gags about delays and routings which settled everyone down. Eventually we were off and thanks to a strong tail wind we still arrived on the island of Rhodes well ahead of schedule.

Although it was nine o’clock when we arrived it was still hot so we were anxious to get to our hotel and change. Because we had wanted to avoid the hold luggage charges this year we were attempting a two week holiday with hand luggage only so we were quickly through passport control which was just as slack as I remembered it from previous visits to Greece and into a taxi for the short drive to Ixia just a few kilometres away. Generally speaking I don’t like using cabs because most taxi drivers in Greece are highway robbers but at least on Rhodes the prices are fixed by the city council so at €17 for the short journey at least we knew we were being officially ripped off.

The Caravel Hotel apartments were along a side street off the busy main strip of Ixia and didn’t look too promising at first and I began to fear the worst when we were allocated the Orwellian sounding room 101 and I wondered what terrors might be behind the door. Actually although it overlooked a car park and was within close ear shot of a karaoke bar it was a very nice room indeed, spotlessly clean, generously spacious and with refreshing white linen on the beds.

And things got even better when we were invited to eat in the dining room and take advantage of a hotel guest’s 15% discount and already I was beginning to like this place more and more. The food turned out to be excellent and we had a window seat in the dining room and ate Greek specialities and drank house wine and Mythos and both agreed that actually we had made a very good choice indeed.

We watched the holiday makers promenading back and forth and we began to realise that this year was most likely going to be different in another sense because Rhodes is just the sort of airport island that we have recently being trying to avoid and there were a lot of people in lycra and football shirts wandering from one big screen sky sports bar to the next looking for English beer and food served with tomato sauce! We were only here for two nights so this didn’t really matter a great deal so after our meal we went back to our room and sat out on the balcony until quite late playing cards, chatting and listening to musical crimes being commited as one by one classic songs were being murdered in the karaoke bar.