Greece 2009 - Day 17, Athens, a city of thieves

After four years of visiting Athens on the way to a Greek island-hopping holiday I have finally managed to see the new Acropolis Museum. It was originally planned to be completed in 2004 to accompany the return of the Olympic Games to their spiritual Athenian home but construction setbacks and various outbreaks of controversy along the way have meant that it did not finally open to the expectant public until June 2009.

The long awaited €130m Acropolis Museum is a modern glass and concrete building at the foot of the ancient Acropolis and home to sculptures from the golden age of Athenian history. Unlike any other museum in the world this one has been designed to exhibit something it doesn’t own and can’t yet exhibit and the Greek Culture Minister has said that he hopes that it will be the catalyst for the return of the disputed Marbles from the British Museum in London because about half of the sculptures have been there since they were dubiously sold to the museum in 1817.

http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/06/21/the-acropolis-museum-in-athens/

http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/09/20/acropolis-museum-and-lord-elgin/

We spent most of the morning in the museum and after we had finished we walked around the ancient city admiring all of the sights. Athens is a wonderful place for visiting ancient monuments and buildings, in addition to the Acropolis there is the Ancient Greek and Roman Agora and the dramatic Temple of Zeus with its spectacular columns thrusting triumphantly into the sky. They are all in pretty poor shape it has to be said, the Parthenon at the Acropolis was blown up by Venetian invaders when it was being used as an armoury store, most of the Agora is pretty much non existent and the Temple of Olympian Zeus has only a handful of its original columns still standing.



http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/06/22/athens-ancient-greece/

We checked the bus times back to the airport and discovered that the metro line had been reopened so we agreed that would be our preference and once confident of times we walked through Monastiraki with its cramped little tourist shops and back to the Plaka where we found a place for a drink next to the Agora. For some reason Athens felt different this year, there were more beggars, more lucky-lucky men and more gipsy kids pestering us at the table for handouts. It didn’t feel quite so safe.

Despite this, it was the last day of the holiday and we had spent a good day in the Greek capital even when it started to rain later in the afternoon. Finally we had a last meal before collecting our bags from the Royal Olympic and made our way back to the airport. This was the fourth year of taking the metro and I have never felt uncomfortable or unsafe in any of the previous three years but this time something was different. Syntagma station was busy and felt edgy and when the train arrived we had to force our way onto unusually crowded carriages.

As soon as I got on board I knew something was wrong and this is how they did it. At the very last moment a group of three or four young men rushed onto the train causing mayhem and confusion and pushing and shoving and moving other legitimate passengers around. In the melee we were separated so couldn’t watch out for each other and I knew instinctively that something was going to happen in that carriage. In hindsight it is easy to see that we had been targeted, we had been on holiday, we were off our guard, weighed down with bags and the way that Kim was looking after her bag made it obvious that there was something inside that she would prefer not to loose.

One man stood by the door but then I sensed that he was determined to stand next to me and he pushed in and stood so close I could smell his body odour and it was most unpleasant. I knew what he was doing but luckily I was wedged in a corner so I gripped my wallet in my pocket in a vice like white knuckle grip and turned away from him so that he couldn’t get a hand to my right side where my wallet and my camera were. He knew he was rumbled, gave up and moved on pushing and shoving the other passengers as he went.

Kim was stranded in the middle of the carriage but I could see that she was clutching her handbag tight to her chest and I felt reassured that she too was being extra careful. Suddenly I noticed that she was bothered by something and was examining her ring. One of the thieves had placed a bit of wire around the stone and had pulled it so hard that it had bent the ring and it had hurt her finger. She said that at the time she thought it had been caught in a zip or a strap from someone’s bag but this must be a well practiced diversionary tactic because at the moment she reacted he managed somehow to open the zip of the bag and remove the first thing that he found. All of this happened so quickly and at the next stop they were gone and so was Kim’s camera.

http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/10/04/athens-pickpockets-some-thoughts-on-being-robbed/

This incident rather spoilt the holiday and we left Greece with a sour taste in our mouths. All of Kim’s precious pictures were gone including her favourite of the naked man on the beach on Ios and these were priceless and irreplaceable. I hope we will return to the Greek Islands again next year but we probably won’t be stopping off in Athens.

Greece 2009 - Day 16, Blue Star to Piraeus

The Hotel Korali put on a good breakfast and we were amongst the first in the dining room because we had an early start and a nine-thirty ferry to catch for the return journey to Piraeus. The hotel owner drove us to the port and with a day of disasters behind us we were optimistic about better prospects for today.

The Blue Star Naxos arrived on time and there were a lot of passengers to get on board before it could leave again. The Blue Star ferries can carry one thousand five hundred passengers and two hundred and fifty vehicles and the line of cars waiting to drive on board stretched all along the port and back to the town square. When the gate was opened we pushed our way on board and made for the top deck where we had plans to find a seat in the sun and we found some at the back of the boat which we estimated would enjoy the sun all the way to the mainland and we settled down and after the boat had loaded up and left the port watched Naxos slipping away behind us.

We had chosen good seats and they would have been perfect except for a group of Swedes next to us who couldn’t seem to settle down and they kept rearranging the furniture, changing seats, which seemed to involve a lot of unnecessary pushing and shoving and talking to each other in very loud voices. Soon we were following the shoreline of Paros and within an hour the ferry was pulling into the harbour for its last stop. The port was heaving and there was the usual chaos associated with a big ferry coming into town. Cars, busses and big trucks were all competing with the foot passengers for a place on the quayside but despite the fact that there appeared to be absolutely no organisation at all everyone finally got on board and there were no fatal accidents and soon the boat was under way again with a four hour journey ahead to Piraeus.

The restless Swedes had a picnic, which meant more furniture reorganisation and then thankfully they settled down for the journey. Other passengers manoeuvred themselves into preferred positions and everyone found their own way of passing the time. We finished off the last few pages of our books and then from my map I tried to follow the route and identify the islands on the way. We slipped between Serifos to the south where we had started our adventure fifteen days ago and then Kythnos to the north and I wondered if this might be worth a visit so I looked it up in the Island Hopping guide and it said not so I removed it from the emerging itinerary for next year that was beginning to take shape in my head.

As the mainland came into view the last hour of the journey began to drag as we started to look forward to being on dry land again. From the sea Athens was laid out before us, nestling beneath the mountains to the north, east and west (Parnitha, Pendeli and Hymettos) and the Saronic Gulf to the south. Out at sea, where we were, the expanse of grey concrete, which formed the outer environs of the city, shimmered brightly in the strong sun and it looked much more attractive than I guessed it would from up close.

Piraeus was hot and noisy, the traffic was as we remembered it when we left, pushy taxi drivers were touting for business, the lucky-lucky men were selling counterfeit goods and there were dusty road works just outside the metro station. The metro at rush hour was not a pleasant experience. It was overcrowded and felt dangerous and without a seat we stood and guarded our possessions for fear of pickpockets. We were glad when after eight stations we arrived in Omonia and changed lines to a less crowded train and travelled the three stops to the Acropolis station where we emerged from the underground tunnels back into the open air and the oppressive heat of an Athens September afternoon.

We knew roughly where the Royal Olympic hotel was and with some helpful directions from a taxi driver found it quickly, crossed the busy main road and presented ourselves at reception. The Royal Olympic is a five star hotel and we don’t usually do five star but I had spotted a good deal and broken the normal rule. It was very smart and plush and I felt a little out of place and conspicuous in dusty sandals, a salt streaked shirt and a battered backpack, which I put down as inconspicuously as I could and well away from the Versace and the Louis Vuittons. The supposed deal was a €650 executive room for €120 and the room was nice and I was happy with the price we had paid but it certainly wasn’t worth €650.

The trouble with five star hotels of course is that they have five star prices and after I had got over the shock of the mini-bar prices (€7.50 for a small beer) and had a good laugh at the restaurant prices I slipped out of the hotel and found a little shop with alcohol at sensible prices, purchased some cans of mythos and a carton of cheap red wine and sneaked it through reception as discreetly as I could and took it back to the room.

After we had had a drink on the balcony and tidied ourselves up we declared ourselves presentable enough to wander around the hotel and we made for the top floor roof garden and restaurant where there were some stunning views over the Temple of Olympian Zeus directly opposite. The restaurant looked nice and it was being fastidiously prepared for later but on account of the prices we knew we wouldn’t be dining there so we left the hotel and walked to the Plaka to identify alternative arrangements.

It was late afternoon and the streets and the shops were busy but the restaurants and tavernas were short of customers and every few metres we were stopped and encouraged to go inside and eat. It must be obvious that five o’clock in the afternoon is not the time most people want to dine and we turned them all down with a smile and a promise to consider going back later. One man fancied himself as a bit of a comedian and was quite entertaining and his menu looked interesting so we thought we might let all of the others down and go there.

Greece 2009 - Ferries

I have been visiting the Greek islands on and off for twenty-five years and island hopping for the last four and I have noticed that things are beginning to alter, and not always for the better either. There are new roads being constructed on the islands and EU funded improvements to ports, traditional mini-markets are becoming supermarkets and the ferries are beginning to change. New roads are fine and improved port facilities are good, personally I prefer the dusty old shops with surprises in dark corners but I have to say that I am really disappointed by the ferry changes.

This year there were new routes and unfamiliar boats and these were all high speed and modern and they are not nearly as much fun. They are more expensive, have inside allocated airline style seats, in some cases no access to the outside deck and generally lack character or individuality. I understand that the people who live on the islands, who now have faster and more convenient transport options welcome these changes, but it is a sad day for back packers and island hoppers. I prefer the uncertainty of missed schedules, the battle with the elements and the confusion and commotion associated with getting on and getting off in preference to the reliability, the smooth ride and the orderly airline style of boarding and departure. Last year we were stuck on Folegandros for an extra day when ferries simply didn’t turn up but this year there was disappointing sense of reliability.

In 2006 I travelled from Naxos to Ios on an old rust bucket called the Panagia Hozoviotisa (named after the monastery on Amorgos) and there was a real sense of adventure. It was two hours late and there was a force seven gale and the boat struggled through the heaving seas but it was an honest hard working boat and the journey was wonderful. I used it again in 2007 but now it is laid up out of service in Piraeus. So too the G&A ferries the Romilda and the Milena that used to run the western Cyclades but have now been replaced with charmless monsters called Speedrunner or Seajet, boats named without thought or imagination and completely lacking any sense of romance. Using the traditional old ferries was even more of an adventure because the island hopping guide advises that most of them should be avoided if possible. This year only the Agios Georgios was left and I used it twice once between Serifos and Sifnos and then from Sifnos to Milos and I really took pleasure from sitting on the open deck with a mythos, enjoying the sun and watching the islands slowly slipping by. Next year I fear that the Agios Georgios will probably be gone too and journeys between the islands will be less enjoyable.

On the old boats it is possible to move freely from deck to deck, get close and see inside the bridge and see the captain at work and then at the other end watch the crew at work at the back of the boat (I believe they call that the stern) and a mad rush of activity when they came in to a port and then left again shortly afterwards. It was noisy and fun with creaking ropes and rattling chains and the men looked like real sailors. On the new boats there is only a monotonous hum from the efficient engines and the crew, dressed in smart corporate uniforms, don’t really like you leaving your seat and wandering about unless you are going to the overpriced bar.

This regrettable change is driven by the desire to improve but is in part due also to stricter operating rules imposed on ferry operators after a disaster in September 2000 when the Express Samina Ferry sank off of Paros while the captain slept and the crew watched a football match on TV. Several of the crew were convicted of manslaughter and sent to jail and the General Manager of the company committed suicide when he jumped from his sixth floor office window in Piraeus. There followed a crack down on safety, record keeping and passenger numbers and ferries that failed tough new safety checks were barred from operating. Interestingly the Agios Georgios failed this test at first and has also subsequently broken down at sea! After thirty-five years ferries are no longer allowed to operate so it is inevitable that within only a few years there will be none of my favourites left.

I am glad that I had a few years of travelling between the islands on the old boats and I suppose I will have to come to terms with the fact that these days have gone and in future there will be no option but to use the awful new ferries to get from place to place. That is called progress I suppose!

Greece 2009 - Sifnos to Milos in a Force 7

In the morning it was clear that we should have taken notice of the weather forecast of doom because overnight the weather had changed just as predicted by all of those who knew better than us. From the balcony all that could be seen were dark and threatening clouds scudding in from the north and obscuring the sun, which was struggling for some sort of recognition of its presence in the sky. The weather forecast has got worse and the breakfast television weather map showed Greece with rain predictions for the mainland and the north and force seven winds in the Cyclades.

Fortunately for us the islands stay mostly dry but when I fetched the breakfast pie the lady in the bakery said that on the island they were hoping for rain because they hadn’t had any for several months since the winter and I could tell from the scorched fields and parched earth that definitely wasn’t exaggerating. I agreed with her about awful that must be but didn’t let on that personally I hoped the rain stays away for a couple more weeks at least, just long enough for us to finish our holiday.

It was windy and much colder so while we packed we choose suitable clothing for a rough sea voyage and after we had settled up at the hotel and said goodbye we slung our packs on our backs and wandered off down to the port. Kim went off to do some last minute shopping and purchase the pottery she had selected, which was going to be a bit of a nuisance because we were going to have to lug it about with us for ten days after that. I waited for her at the Captain’s Bar and ordered a mythos that came with peanuts so I guessed it was going to be expensive! The sun was fighting back by now and was beginning to get the upper hand, the cloud was breaking up and thinning out but there was no sign of the wind dropping and I wondered if the ferry would be on time.

I was fairly sure that it would be late so when Kim turned up I ordered more beer and sat down and prepared to wait. I shouldn’t have been so pessimistic because less than halfway down the bottle the ferry announced its arrival with a blast of its horn and we had to finish in a hurry and make our way to the port and back on board the Agios Georgios for the journey to Milos. The sea was choppy but not on a sea sick scale and we settled down again on the open top deck. If this was a force seven gale I wasn’t worried because the boat seemed more than capable of dealing with it . Wind speed is measured on the Beaufort Scale that was developed in 1805 by Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort who divided weather conditions into twelve for the purposes of reporting consistency. Force seven is a near gale, force eight is a gale and so on all the way to force twelve, which is a hurricane.

I settled down with a mythos to enjoy the journey and then there was an amusing little accident when the two back legs on my plastic deck chair snapped off and one minute I was sitting comfortably like an English gentleman abroad and the next I was in an undignified heap on the deck. Still, it made everyone laugh and luckily I didn’t spill any of my beer.

As we made progress towards Milos the sea got a bit rougher and the clouds thickened again and the day didn’t look promising at all. The strong wind made the Greek flag dance wildly at the back of the ferry as we passed the gnarled coastline of Kimolos and made steady progress towards our destination. Closer to Milos we passed the cliffs scarred by old abandoned mine workings, the iconic white beaches of the island and the gaily coloured fishermen’s villages and just after lunchtime we docked on time in Adamas.

Greece 2009 - Day 6 Sifnos, Apollonia

The first job of the day was to take the short walk down to the village to buy some breakfast items. Even at eight o’clock in the morning the place was busy and the mini-market and the bakery were doing brisk early trade. Kamares has the feel of a strong community and the residents were chatting and being sociable in a way that we rarely see at home.

After breakfast on the balcony we caught the ten o’clock bus at the stop just outside the hotel for the short trip to the capital of Sifnos, Apollonia. The trip took about fifteen minutes and the bus dropped us off in the busy main square. Apollonia is in the middle of the island and all of the roads pass through this hectic spot and all around there was snarling traffic in a crazy traffic dominated street where it was important to keep our wits about us if we weren’t to smeared into the road and become permanent residents of Sifnos.

We disappeared as quickly as we could into the back streets of the town where the peace and tranquillity of the narrow shady lanes was in complete contrast to the main road. It was already very hot and there was a long steep climb ahead of us as we made our way towards the blue domed cathedral at the top of the hill. Stopping regularly to poke into hidden corners and side streets we met an Italian who was resting half way up the hill and he explained how he had set out with the objective of walking right across the island but at this half way point he was thinking of changing his plans and finishing the journey by bus.

At the top there was a panoramic view of most of the island and we could see the sea in the east but mountains blocked the view to the west. We could see all of the capital, which is in fact made up of four separate villages that as they have grown have simply merged into one big town. There were a lot of blue domes scattered along the streets and I counted twenty-five churches, which seems rather a lot for a town that only has a population of about a thousand permanent residents and by my calculation that is one church for every forty people. There was no alternative but to walk back the way we came and once back at the main road we stopped at a trendy taverna and had an expensive mythos (€4), you know, one of those that is served in a posh glass and with an unnecessary bowl of peanuts.




There was no wind at all anymore and with a cloudless sky it was really very hot. After returning to the room and an hour on the balcony we walked down to Kamara and explored some of the back streets that are tucked away behind the busy main road from where steps rise steeply with a giddy speed that quickened the pulse rate and brought us out in a sweat so we were glad of the air conditioned shops where we searching for take home souvenirs amongst the pottery for which Sifnos is famous.

We skipped lunch today and after Kim had made her selections that she would return to buy later we went to the beach for a couple of hours to enjoy a swim in the shallow water of the bay, which was a perfect temperature for just standing around with the water gently lapping around our legs. It was Saturday and at a taverna just at the edge of the beach there was a party where local people were celebrating some sort of event with passion and gusto. Everyone was having a really good time and on the way back to the hotel I watched for a while to pick up some tips on how to party in Greece in preparation for my planned birthday celebrations somewhere in Greece in 2014.

It was a lazy finish to the day as we sat on the balcony, read our books, drank wine and chatted to the nice couple in the next apartment. When the sun went down there was an excellent sunset and after it went dark we retuned to the little port for evening meal at one of the little tavernas by the water.

I like Greek tavernas, they are almost always friendly inviting places and the food is inexpensive and good value and it rarely disappoints. I like the carefree ambiance and the complete lack of formality, outside wooden tables and rattan chairs, check tablecloths, extensive menus and unhurried waiters. I like the cheap paper table covers so you can spill food and drink without worrying about the laundry bill, I like the certain company of scrounging cats and I especially liked these in Kamares because they had the most perfect setting by the sea.

Greece has a culinary tradition dating back thousands of years and over the centuries Greek cuisine has evolved and absorbed numerous influences. Typical dishes include souvlaki, fried meatballs, squash balls, octopus, shrimp, squid, feta cheese, olives, stuffed vine leaves, tzatziki eggplant dip, small sausages and giant beans. For evening meal, Greek tavernas serve such specialties as moussaka, kebabs, pastitsio, stifado, braised beef with onions and paidakia, which is delicious grilled lamb or goat chops. My personal favourite is Kleftiko, which is a knuckle of lamb, cooked slowly and served with vegetables and rice. In Greek, kleftiko means stolen meat and according to legend, this dish would be made with a lamb stolen from a flock as it grazed on a hillside. The thief would cook the meat over many hours in a hole in the ground, sealed with mud so that no steam could escape to give him away. It was on the menu tonight so we had that and a chicken souvlaki and shared a bit of both. We had a final drink and the friendly lady owner gave us a clean paper tablecloth as a souvenir.

It was a lovely clear night with a bright full moon and as we finished the day on the balcony we both wished that we had planned to stay longer here in this perfect place.

http://www.greekrecipes.gr/grs/grsp.php?recipeid=205

Greece 2009, Day 3 Serifos, Hora

The next morning the anticipated spectacular sunrise just didn’t happen because although the sun arrived as regularly as it ever does its first appearance was obscured by a hill on the other side of the bay and then by an inappropriately placed building opposite the hotel. This meant that we would have to wait until we would be in Folegandros in a few days time where we knew we could rely on the early morning solar experience. It was a bit windy still and while we had breakfast on the balcony, consisting of pastry, fruit and an excellent cup of tea we could see the boats in the harbour moving about restlessly at their moorings in response to the swell of the sea.

Today we were planning to visit the Hora about five kilometres and a twenty minute bus ride away and by the time we pitched up for the ten o’clock ride the wind had dropped, there were no more clouds rushing in and the sky was an uninterrupted blue. The little green Mercedes bus was at least thirty years old (probably more) and the driver took the fares, blew his horn to indicate departure and set off on the only bus route on the island. Every seat had retrospectively fitted seat belts but this must have been only to satisfy some EU directive because it was impossible to use them because they were neatly strapped up and secured with those little plastic ties that can only be released by cutting through them completely.

So without the security of a seat belt we travelled to the top of the mountain through several hairpin turns and going back and forth across the face of the mountain until we came to a spot where the bus was able to turn around and leave the passengers at the entrance to the lower square of the village. There was an alternative way of reaching the Hora but that involved an arduous climb along a mule path which interlaced several times with the road but it looked like hard work and so definitely worth the €1.40 fare on the bus to ride in relative comfort to the top.

After visiting the redundant windmills, now being converted into holiday accommodation, we followed the signs to the Kastro and passed through pretty streets where the walls of the buildings squeezed in close to the narrow lanes and tracks but then opened out into the delightful main square of St. Athanasios about halfway to the top that was a complete contrast to the agoraphobic streets that led to it from all directions. Here was the immaculately whitewashed church, the neoclassical town hall, which was in need of a bit of attention, a traditional taverna called Zorba’s with blue doors and windows and Café Stou Stratou a trendy ouzerie across the square selling coffee and traditional Greek snacks to a handful of customers. We passed through without stopping and continued towards the top and the little church of Church of Agios Konstantinos from where there was a terrific view in all directions and especially down and over the port of Livadi stretched out below.

The Hora of Serifos is one of the most spectacular and attractive in the Cyclades, it is how I imagine Ios might have been if it hadn’t been discovered and turned into a Euro pleasure zone because here there are no bars or nightclubs and best of all no shops either. On the way back down we passed by renovated houses which shared the streets with various abandoned properties where a glance inside revealed the truth of a hard life without utilities from only a relatively short time ago. In the gaps between the buildings there were great views over the barren rust coloured hills that reminded me of the bodywork on my first car, a Hillman Avenger, and the now calm inky blue sea in the bay of the harbour that looked like a giant inkwell full of Quink.

After we had circumnavigated the town we returned to the main square, which was by now basking under a hot sun, and we stopped for refreshment and a rest. A nice feature in the bars and cafés in Serifos was the hospitable habit of providing customers with a jug of cold water. I was unsure of this at first because I was brought up with a paranoia of drinking water abroad, so bad that I used to wash my teeth in bottled water in case I inadvertently swallowed a millilitre or two. In fact the first time that I went to Greece, to Kos in 1983, I had to have typhoid injections and a certificate to prove it! Well, how things change and now it appears to be safe to drink the water across the whole of the Eurozone without suffering ill effects or an upset stomach and this was certainly the case in Serifos.

After the stop we took the bus back to Livadi and made plans to return again the following afternoon. It was hot now so we rested and enjoyed the view from the balcony and then later looked for somewhere to eat. We quickly passed by last night’s disappointing restaurant choice and selected a traditional fish and meat taverna on the beach just beyond where the pavement ended and a dirt road began. Waiters crossed the street with trays of food, wine, and beer to customers who were dining by the sea. The restaurant was welcoming, the seafood was delightful, the staff were friendly and we were accompanied by a flock of gregarious ducks. We had made a much better choice than the previous day so thought we might return later.

In the afternoon we went for a couple of hours to an alternative beach behind the town where there was the welcome shade of the whitewashed armirikia trees but could have done without the booming music from the beach bar that spoilt the otherwise ‘get away from it all’ mood of the place.

In the early evening we sat on the balcony and watched the lights in the bay twinkle into life and as the main street started to get busy with the first of the evening’s diners we returned to the friendly taverna on the edge of the town and had a second good meal of the day. At the end of the second day we were in full holiday mood now and beginning to enjoy Serifos and although we agreed that we probably prefer Sifnos (our next stop) we were able to reassess our unnecessarily negative first day thoughts which now seemed to have been a little bit hasty.

Greece 2009 - Day 1, Piraeus

Because of the increasing cost of parking the car in any sort of airport car park this year I arranged for family transport to and from Luton (thanks Alan, thanks Richard) and we arrived with plenty of time to spare before the flight. Luton airport now operates on the Ryanair principle of charging people for services that we used to take for granted as a part of catching a flight. £1 just to drop passengers off at departures, £3 for speedy security checks, £1 for a plastic bag to put liquids in, £9.50 for speedy check-in and boarding and 50p for every breath taken while waiting.

We didn’t pay for any of these rip-off extras and I bet the people who did felt rather silly because there was no delay through security and not much of a queue at the departure gate either. Generally there are two queues at the boarding gate, one is for gullible people who have paid the extra to get on the plane first and there is the queue for sensible people who are savvy enough to know that there is a seat for everyone on the aircraft anyway. I bet they felt even sillier when we boarded because the plane was only about half full and there was plenty of seats for everyone to choose exactly their favourites.

When we finally got away the flight lasted just over three hours and landed in Athens at the 2004 International airport of the Year, Eleftherious Veizelos, and we quickly retrieved our backpacks from the luggage carousel and walked briskly to the metro station for the thirty-five-kilometre journey to the city centre. It was a shock to find that the metro wasn’t running today and had been closed for sometime. It seems that when they opened it in 2004 ready for the Olympic Games they forgot to build some of the stations along the route and the line was now closed while they finished off.

On a previous arrival at Athens airport I was mugged by a taxi driver and paid a fortune to get to the city so I wasn’t going to make that mistake again so we were obliged to use the only other form of transport available, the X96 express bus to Piraeus. This was the first time on a bus in Athens and it was quite an experience. The roads were busy but the driver seemed totally oblivious to other vehicles as he charged along at high speed, switching lanes and tossing the passengers about like the Saturday night lottery balls. It was like being in a car chase at the movies and at one stage I had to take a look to see if Sandra Bullock was driving. Corners didn’t slow the bus down and the only respite from the madness was a few infrequent stops on the way to the port, which we reached after about forty minutes. A good value roller coaster ride at only €3.20 each.

We arrived at about eleven o’clock at night and it was hot and dirty and noisy but despite that it felt strangely safe. Earlier in the day it had been raining but this hadn’t washed the streets at all because Piraeus is a city where street cleaning is not a priority. We skipped the taxi ranks and decided instead to walk to the Hotel Ideal along cracked and dirty pavements towards the red light area at the east end of the port. We had stayed here before so we knew where the hotel was and even though it is in a less than salubrious area it is actually quite nice with a comfortable room and friendly staff.

We needed to eat and the affable man on reception made us feel welcome and made some restaurant suggestions. This didn’t take him very long because although nineteen million passengers pass through the port of Piraeus every year the dining options turned out to be very seriously limited indeed. We left the hotel and returned to the port and with very little to choose from agreed on a gyros place with plastic tables and chairs on the dirty pavement and had a substantial chicken wrap and a first bottle of Mythos. The meal came with tzatziki, salad, fries and an extra special topping of lead oxide because as we ate we watched the traffic chaos as a ferry arrived in port and disgorged its passengers onto the busy road right in front of where we were eating. Piraeus is an interesting place, loud and busy and totally focussed on the harbour and the ferries and is somewhere that is never ever going to be beautiful or is going to tempt any sane person to stay more than one night. This is a place that where you wouldn’t even send your mother-in-law!

It was about midnight when we returned to the hotel and after setting the alarm for six there wasn’t a lot of time to be finding out any more about the hotel Ideal. If I was rating it I would say that it was one grade up from a hostel and in a scruffy area of the city but it was only €45 for a night and I slept with my wallet and passport just in case.

When we woke at six the next morning Piraeus was already busy and noisy and after leaving the hotel we walked along the busy and turbulent streets to the Aegean Lines Ferry Agency where we exchanged our pre-paid voucher for tickets and made our way to the ferry. This was not as easy as it sounds because Piraeus simply has to be one of the most traffic crazy cities in the world that makes an Italian city look like a sleepy village in Surrey on a late Sunday afternoon and there was a mad confusion of snarling traffic that absolutely defies description. Cars, busses and lorries were all growling aggressively through the streets with absolutely no regard for traffic lights, lanes, rights of way or pedestrians (especially pedestrians). The madness was being ineffectively choreographed every now and again by traffic police blowing madly on whistles and waving arms in a totally manic way that quite frankly was completely unintelligible to absolutely everyone whether in a car or on the pavement and didn’t seem to be helping a great deal.

This should not have been surprising because Piraeus is the largest passenger port in Europe and the third largest worldwide in terms of passenger transportation. There were certainly a lot of people about this morning and there was a long queue to get on board the Aegean Lines Speedrunner IV and in the usual way foot passengers were competing for space with cars and commercial vehicles. We didn’t fancy sitting inside so we made our way to the top deck and found a seat outside at the back of the boat to catch the sun and we made ourselves comfortable in preparation for the two and a half hour passage to the island of Serifos.

Acropolis Museum & Lord Elgin

After four years of visiting Athens on the way to a Greek island-hopping holiday I have finally managed to see the new Acropolis Museum. It was originally planned to be completed in 2004 to accompany the return of the Olympic Games to their spiritual home but construction setbacks and various outbreaks of controversy along the way have meant that it did not finally open until June 2009.

I purchased tickets on line for just €1 (prices will rise to €5 in 2010, so if you want a bargain go soon) and arrived at my alloted time of ten o’clock. I had feared that the place would be crowded and uncomfortable but this was not the case at all and without the lines of visitors that I had anticipated it was easy to cruise past the ticket desks and into the museum. I had a gigantic sense of anticipation because I have visited the old inadequate museum at the top of the Acropolis a couple of times before in 2000 and 2006 and I have been genuinely looking forward to seeing this magnificent replacement. I have to say that anticipation was mixed with trepidation because having followed the saga of the open wound debate about the Elgin Marbles (Parthenon Sculptures) I genuinely wondered how I was going to feel.

The long-awaited €130m Acropolis Museum is a modern glass and concrete building at the foot of the ancient Acropolis and home to sculptures from the golden age of Athenian democracy. Unlike any other museum in the world this one has been designed to exhibit something it doesn’t own and the Greek Culture minister has said that he hopes that it will be the catalyst for the return of the disputed Marbles from the British Museum in London because about half of the sculptures have been there since they were dubiously sold to the museum in 1817. The gloves are now off and the battle is now on between this, the new state-of-the-art Acropolis Museum, and the British Museum for the right to permanently exhibit them.

Outside the museum and also in the cavernous entrance hall there are glass floors with views of the excavations that were discovered during the construction of the building and contributed to the delays and then there is a steady incline through seven centuries of history and impressive well set out displays along a generously wide gallery that provides sufficient space for everyone to stop and enjoy the exhibits without feeling hurried or under pressure to move on. Moving on to the second floor there are two galleries that I have to say I did not find so well set out and involved a rambling walk through a succession of exhibits that was not helped by the absence of a simple floor plan guide to help guide the visitor through and having finished with the second floor I then had to double back to get to the third and the Parthenon Gallery having avoided the inevitable over priced café terrace and shop on the way.

After an hour passing through centuries of ancient Greece I finally arrived at the top floor Gallery, which is designed to eventually hold and display all of the Parthenon sculptures but for the time being has only about 50% of the originals and the rest are plaster casts made from (and controversially paid for) of the remaining treasures temporarily remaining in London. It is truly impressive and with the Acropolis Hill and the Parthenon looming up outside I can only explain it rather inadequately as a memorable experience. The top floor is designed to provide a full 360º panoramic of the building and how the sculptures would have looked when they were originally commissioned and sculptured in the fifth century BC.

Today, the Greek Government, and most of the Greek people, would rather like the sculptures back but have recently turned down a British Museum offer to give the Marbles to the Acropolis Museum on a loan basis for just three months. The Culture Minister Antonis Samonis explained that “The government, as any other Greek government would have done in its place, is obliged to turn down the offer. This is because accepting it would legalise the snatching of the Marbles and the monument’s carving-up 207 years ago,”. On the whole I am inclined to agree with this and believe that the place for the sculptures are in Athens and not London but this is a complicated debate that cannot be rushed and a few more years sorting it out is hardly going to matter.

I really liked the Museum but what I didn’t like especially was the demonising of Lord Elgin and the unnecessary nationalist, provocative and belligerent anti-English sentiment attached to the explanations and the video commentary because I consider that offensive as an English visitor and it made me feel slightly uncomfortable and unwelcome. The descriptions of Elgin as a looter and a pirate seemed especially designed to stimulate a reaction from visitors from the USA who were encouraged to gasp in awe that an Englishmen could have done such terrible things. I know that a lot of what should be in Athens is in London but let’s not forget that there is also bits of it in the Musée du Louvre, Paris, the Vatican Museums in Rome, the National Museum, Copenhagen, the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, the University Museum, Würzburg and the Glyptothek in Munich all of which seems to have been conveniently ignored.

There are many factors to take into consideration. We do not know if Elgin's actions were legal at the time but he had certainly obtained from the Turkish authorities, then in control of Athens, permission to work on the Acropolis and it seems that he had a genuine interest in archaeology and the preservation of the past. What shouldn’t be forgotten is that when Elgin removed the sculpture from the Parthenon, the building was in a very sorry state indeed and this is expediently omitted from the commentary and the otherwise excellent interpretation. From the fifth century BC to the seventeenth century AD, it had been in continuous use. It was built as a Greek temple, was later converted into a Christian church, and finally, with the coming of Turkish rule over Greece in the fifteenth century, it was converted into a mosque.

Although we think of it primarily as a pagan temple, its history as church and mosque was an even longer one, and no less distinguished. It was, as one British traveller put it in the mid seventeenth century, 'the finest mosque in the world' but all that changed in 1687 when, during fighting between Venetians and Turks, a Venetian cannonball hit the building, which was inappropriately being used as a temporary a gunpowder store and approximately three hundred women and children were amongst those killed, and the building itself was devastated. By 1800 a small replacement mosque had been erected inside the shell, while the surviving fabric and sculpture was suffering the predictable fate of many ancient ruins.

Elgin might be the bad guy in the eyes of the Greeks but what the Acropolis museum conveniently fails to mention is that at the time he removed the sculptures the local population was using it as a convenient quarry and a great deal of the original sculptures and the basic building blocks of the temple itself, were being reused for new local housing or simply being ground down for mortar. Whatever Elgin's motives for removing the sculptures there is no doubt at all that he saved them from possible even worse damage and without his intervention we might not be even having the ‘Elgin Marbles’ debate at all. I would urge visitors to think about that especially the indignant American who I overheard saying that he planned to write to the British Government with his ill informed opinions! It is important to put things into historical context. Two hundred years ago there was no UNESCO and this wasn’t like turning up in Washington DC and removing the Lincoln Memorial and just carting it away because two hundred years ago very few people actually gave a damn!

Yes the sculptures should be returned to Athens but let’s please acknowledge Elgin’s important role in having saved these precious artefacts for posterity and for the World. The man was not a villain!

http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/06/21/the-acropolis-museum-in-athens/

http://apetcher.wordpress.com/2009/06/22/athens-ancient-greece/

http://www.britishmuseum.org/the_museum/news_and_press_releases/statements/the_parthenon_sculptures.aspx