Voltron

One night when I was a kid, my mom and I stopped at some shop on our way home.  I can't remember what for, but it might have been a bowling shop.  Anyway, there on the counter was a Voltron toy.  For those of you unfamiliar with Voltron, it was a series of individual robot cats that could be put together to form a larger, much more powerful robot called Voltron.  I pestered my mom to buy it for me, pulling out all the stops with things like how I never asked for anything and how she was the best mom ever.  After making a scene of utter adorableness in front of the cashier, my mom finally relented.

When we arrived home that night, we found our front door standing wide open.  We'd been robbed.  They took everything of value.  I was too young to truly understand the implications of feeling scared or violated, but I did understand that my mom was upset.  We had lost everything.  We weren't rich, so I knew my mom hadn't really had the money to buy me that Voltron toy.  But she had, as a special treat.  And now, seeing the tears streaming down her face, I felt utterly horrible.  Crying my own tears, I took the toy to her and told her to return it.  I told her to use the money to replace our stuff.  Even to my child mind, the guilt was too much.  I couldn't enjoy playing with it because of the feelings attached to it now.

As she hugged me, she told me that I didn't have to return it.  I could keep it.  But she didn't protest when I insisted.  I think she understood.

Northern Immersion - Home

We had absolutely no issues with time as we drove across town, returned the rental car, and got checked into the flight.  I can only thank the Lord on High for watching over us with all of that chaos, because it could have been bad.  We had time to spare, so we grabbed a second breakfast at the airport (the first being a pathetic continental breakfast at the hotel).

In London, we had to go through two security checkpoints (one when we arrived and one when we were departing).  When we arrived at the check-in gate, I was selected for another random security check.  I had to be pat down, open up all of my bags for search, and answer a series of questions.  The guy even pulled out the cracker box in my bag and looked at the expiration date.  Apparently, it is a crime to transport stale crackers across international lines!  Terrorists don’t stand a chance with security measures like these.

The rest of the trip was uneventful.  We arrived in Dallas late the same day (traveling back in time has its advantages), located our car (which started, thankfully), and somehow found our way home (despite not having driven the route in weeks).  Tomorrow is going to be industrial laundry day and then back to work on Monday.  Sigh…

Well, I will always remember this trip fondly.  Thank you for reading through the adventure to the very end.  Hopefully, it will inspire you to have an adventure of your own.

Northern Immersion - The Final Countdown

Today, we started on the way back to Belfast.  The mood in the car is somber, at least from my side, like with every mile we’re drawing closer and closer to our boring life.  I guess I’m finally realizing that the magic of the trip is over.  I’ve been away almost four weeks, and I haven’t missed it one bit.  My wife asked me the other day if I was homesick, and I took a moment to think about it before answering, “Nope.”  And I’m not.  Not one bit.  I have been touring around Europe for a month, and I haven’t missed home or work at all.  I assume that eventually I would (at least home…probably not work), given enough time, but I’m so burnt out, so frustrated, so completely demoralized with the life I lead, that I am in no rush to get back to it.  I wish I had more time here.  But all good things must come to an end…at least when you’re not filthy rich and can lead a life of no responsibilities.

Just outside Dublin, we stopped at our third and final castle, Malahide.  Coming off the Blarney high, I was very much looking forward to another castle.  I couldn’t have been more disappointed.  From the outside, the castle was idyllic…from the rising battlements down to the ivy growing up the walls.  The inside; however, was a complete disappointment.  First of all, we had to take a guided tour.  There was no option to tour the castle on our own.  Second, we were rushed through the tour to make way for Santa Claus visiting the castle.  There were children everywhere, bundled up in their winter gear, eager to meet the big man and spout their list to him.  Finally, the castle had been lived in up until the 1970s, when it was sold because it was too expensive to upkeep.  So, the whole inside was modernized with wallpaper, running water, electricity, etc. 

The whole atmosphere of the castle was a house of extravagance and boasting.  They didn’t have portraits of the family hung about.  No, instead they had portraits of famous people the family knew, so they could show off and brag to their guests.  And these portraits covered every inch of every wall.  It was gaudy and ridiculous.  In the sitting room, the walls were painted in this hideous orange color.  According to the tour guide, the family had paid to invent their own paint color (known as Malahide Orange) because this would scream wealth.

Anyway, I didn’t think the tour was worth it.  The castle was situated on hundreds of acres of cultivated gardens.  The grounds were nice and peaceful, with wide-open spaces and ancient trees, but they lacked the magical feel of Blarney.

We arrived back in Belfast, trying to track down our hotel, which my wife had booked because it was near to the airport.  We soon discovered that it was indeed near to the airport, just not the airport we were flying out of the next day.  Belfast has two airports on opposite sides of town from each other.  It was too late to change hotels, so we just decided to get up earlier in the morning and make the drive across town.

The Holiday Inn Express – Antrim was a low-class hotel.  It was expensive because of its proximity to the airport, but the quality was terrible.  The worst part was the door to the room.  The first time we tried to leave, I couldn’t open the door.  The lock seemed to be set in a permanently open position, and the door wouldn’t close.  After several attempts, I finally slammed it with all of my might to get it to close.  When I complained about this to the front desk, the guy said that that was how they were supposed to work, because they were fire doors.  I have never seen this in a hotel.  But every time we left, we had to slam the doors; which was annoying and embarrassing at 5 o’clock in the morning when we checked out.  Oh well!

Northern Immersion - The Gift of Eloquence

Today, we finally got to the part of the trip that I had been looking forward to since long before I even went to Ireland.  We made the hour and a half drive down toward Cork to the small town of Blarney.  And it was there that we went to Blarney Castle.  The castle was pretty cool, situated on a rock and well laid out.  On the inside, there wasn’t much to it, just a hollowed-out shell.  But my aim was situated at the top of the castle in the skirting wall…the Blarney Stone.

The trek up the narrow winding staircases was pure torture.  Not because it was narrow and dark and steep.  Not because the steps rose endlessly story after story.  It was torture because my wife chose this moment to display a psychological condition that I wasn’t even aware that she possessed.  In scientific terms, it’s called acrophobia.  In layman’s terms it’s called fear of heights.  When I tell you that we were traversing the castle in an enclosed staircase, it might seem as odd and absurd to you as it was to me why she should have a fear of heights.  Claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces) I could see, but fear of heights?!  So, a trek that should have taken about 10 minutes ended up taking over an hour.  We had to stop every few steps so she could get her blood pressure down because she kept hyperventilating.  When we finally reached the top, she was so terrified of the view that she planted herself in a narrow walkway, back on one wall and hands on the other, and refused to go on.  I finally managed to coax her over to the Blarney Stone, but she nearly broke my hand with the death grip she had on me.  All of this struck me as profoundly hilarious.  Not because I’m insensitive to my wife’s plight, but because I am usually the one with a paralyzing fear of heights.  But today, I had no issues at all.

Anyway, back to the goal.  We made it to battlements running along the top of the castle and over to where the famed stone was situated.  There was a man sitting near it ready to assist any would-be travelers who wanted to kiss the stone.  I eagerly bounded over, smiling from ear to ear.  This was a chance of a lifetime.  One of the top 100 things to do before you die.  Legend has it that whosoever kisses the Blarney Stone will have the gift of eloquent speech, and here I was about to achieve it!  I was about to put my lips where millions of people have put their lips before me; some of the greatest lips in human history…Winston Churchill, Laurel and Hardy, and Mick Jagger.  I was about to put my lips on TripAdvisor’s Most Unhygienic Tourist Attraction in the World…and according to James, I’d probably get mono.  (Hmmm…after thinking about this a little bit, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.)

But I would not be deterred by this, so I laid down on the cold, hard battlement, reached back, grabbed the iron bands wrapped around the castle wall, leaned back, and planted one on that cold, dirty, blue-black stone.  And I have a picture and a certificate to prove it!

I’m happy to say that the going down wasn’t as bad as the going up.  My wife must have been sensing that the ground was getting closer, so she picked up steam the further down we went.  You might guess that that is all there is to tell about Blarney Castle, but you’d be wrong.  That isn’t even the best part.

Surrounding the castle are some of the most beautiful grounds and gardens I have ever seen.  Acre upon acre of trees, green grass, flowers and cultured gardens, rivers, waterfalls, and even a poison garden.  But the place that did it for me was the Rock Close.  It was a mystical place of huge boulders under giant trees with Druid Caves, Witch Stones, and the Three Wise Men.  And down near the back were the famous Wishing Steps.  Legend has it that whosoever walks down the Wishing Steps backwards with their eyes closed will always have their wishes come true.  Of course we both went down, me nearly falling off into the waterfall at the bottom before I knew I was at the end.

I wished I could live out the rest of my days on that land, so beautiful it was, but eventually we got kicked out.  We headed over to the Castle Hotel Bar for a late lunch of an incredible roast beef and vegetable soup before going to the Blarney Woolen Mills for a little bit of shopping.  The Blarney Woolen Mills is known as the largest Irish shop in the world, and with three floors of Irish everything, I can attest that it’s probably true.

It started to get dark after this, so we headed back to Limerick.  Realizing that everything would be closed again, we just decided to have dinner in the hotel restaurant again.  There isn’t a large selection of choices, so I had the tagliatelle again.  This time, the bartender turned on a championship rugby match between Worcester and Gloucester, so I spent the meal explaining the finer points of rugby as I don’t understand them…while she pretended to humor me while really playing games on her phone.

Blarney was the best way to end our trip!  I’m glad we saved it for last.

Northern Immersion - The Rains of Limerick

It was kind of a foul day today; gray, gloomy, and off and on showers.  So, we decided to hang around town and see some of the attractions on offer around here.  We started with Bunratty Castle and Folk Village.  This was the first time I have ever been in a real castle (or caislein as it’s said in Irish), and I was very impressed.  It was just as cool as you see in the movies…from big drafty rooms to extremely narrow staircases…from a dungeon to murder holes…from a private chapel and solars to cannon towers.  And the best part was that you got to walk through and experience them all up close.  I was even able to climb all the way to the top of the castle towers and look out at the countryside in all directions.  I imagined a soldier standing guard up here looking out at the river in one direction or the endless green fields with sheep and other livestock in the other, constantly vigilant for an enemy force.

As I mentioned, the staircases were extremely narrow and incredibly steep.  While touring around, we ran into a man doing some painting in one of the rooms.  He was eager for a break, so he stopped and talked to us about the history of the castle and the significance of some of the features.  When my wife made a comment about the staircases, he replied, “They were easier to defend.  You only had to fight one man at a time.  And the way they wind, the man coming up had to be left-handed.  If you were right-handed, then you’d hit the wall.  So, they’d call down to ask if anyone was left-handed.  That would be the first man to get it.”  He also told us about a tiny little window in one of the walls looking down into the Great Hall.  He said that women were not allowed to sit in the Great Hall during castle business, so they were sent upstairs to the solar.  However, they could watch the proceedings through this tiny window and thus know what was going on.

After the castle, we toured around the folk village.  The village consisted of various buildings from different time periods throughout Ireland’s history, such as fisherman huts and chapels.  It displayed the different architecture on display during different times.  In one farmhouse, we ran into a woman named Mrs. O’Kennedy.  She was a feisty old woman with opinions about everything…and I mean everything.  She had a very heavy accent and was the first person I have ever heard actually use the word “feck.”

We decided to head back to Limerick to have lunch and tour King John’s Castle.  We ate at a café called Jack Monday’s, which was a pretty nice place near the castle.  Unfortunately, it started raining pretty steadily while we were walking, so we were soaked by the time we got there.  It was still raining when we headed on to the castle.  For some stupid reason the castle was closed for some exhibit, so we couldn’t even go in.  We decided to walk on down the street and visit St. Mary’s Cathedral, which is a 900 year old Catholic church.  It was a large, stoic church with much of the features you’d expect in a Catholic church.

We ended the evening by heading into town and doing some shopping and getting some hot chocolate at Costa Coffee.  But it started raining badly again, so we just headed back to the hotel, eating dinner in the Absolute Bar & Grill.  My wife had a fried chicken dish, and I had a tagliatelle dish…both were excellent.  I was fortunate enough to also get to watch Chelsea defeat Porto to move on in the Champions League…so all in all, a good night.

Northern Immersion - The Wind of Change…I Mean Mohr

Today, we grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel restaurant and then hit the road for the long drive to the Cliffs of Mohr.  It was raining at the hotel, but we were hoping for sunshine at the cliffs.  And we got it…got it and Mohr.  The sun was popping in and out of the gray clouds as they rolled across a beautiful blue sky.  The cliffs were dark; brown, gray, and tan bands running along their surface with tufts of tangled green on the tops.  When the sun would pop out from behind the clouds it would illuminate the colors, casting the bands of the cliffs in sparkling contrast to the dazzling greens.  And then it would be gone again, and the world would slide back into a dull moroseness.  From this perspective, it was a photographer’s dream.  What we were not expecting was the wind.

To quote A Walk in the Woods, “The wind was whooshing along noisily and steadily at a brisk 25 miles an hour, but gusting to at least double that, and from ever shifting directions.  At times when the wind was head-on, we would take two steps forward and one back.  When it came from an angle, it gave us a stiff shove towards the edge of the ridge.”  It was strangely ironic to read those very words the same day you experienced that exact phenomenon.  But words are not enough to describe what that kind of wind feels like to walk in, or to try to stand steady and take a photograph, or how cold and biting it feels on your exposed skin.  We were actually shocked to find out that the wind was blowing at so low a speed, as it felt like trying to stand upright in a hurricane.

But imagine the landscape for a moment.  You are on a cliff, approximately 700 feet above the Atlantic Ocean.  The landscape is barren…no trees and only short, scrubby grasses…for miles in any direction.  There is no shelter, nothing to hunker down behind.  It’s just you and the relentless wind.  And imagine that wind is blowing so hard that you have to stand at an angle in it just to keep upright…when suddenly it stops blowing from that direction and starts blowing from a different direction, causing your angled form to lose balance and then suddenly be pushed into a staggering run to deny gravity its victory. 

It felt like one of those movies where the hero is trapped in a ring of enemies and each enemy is taking a punch or kick at him, so he continuously flies across the ring, only to be punched or kicked by a different enemy and sent flying in a different direction.  Except you can’t see this enemy and you can’t anticipate where the next punch is coming from.  I imagine it’s much like the Shawn Mendes video for “Stitches.”

To give you one more visual at how hard the wind was blowing, close your eyes (not literally or you won’t be able to read what I write next) and picture a small, gentle, picturesque waterfall, trickling down the side of the cliffs in a wavy hap-hazard fashion.  Envision it’s swollen with the onslaught of rain that has been blowing through the last week.  See it cascading down off the cliff face hundreds of feet to splash into the blue-green ocean below.  And now imagine that the wind is blowing so hard that it is literally pulling the water off the face of the cliff and shooting it straight up into the air a hundred feet, so that to walk underneath it it feels like it’s raining.  And when you look up into it, all you see is blue skies and rain pouring out of nothing.

We had planned to try to take the Cliff Walk with Pat Sweeney, as we’d heard that was a great way to experience the cliffs.  But with the wind the way it was, we didn’t feel up to it.  So, we just toured around the area near O’Brien’s Tower and the Visitor’s Center before heading to Doolin to eat at Gus O’Connor’s Pub.

This was a little gem that my wife had found when researching the area.  It was a traditional Irish pub with a small town feel.  The staff was friendly, the food was good, and the fireplace was warm.  It was late in the afternoon, so there were only a few locals in there having a beer and discussing which movie George Clooney looked more handsome in (my wife would say none of them).  We had fish and chips, which was delicious until my wife ate all of my tartar sauce.  I swear…you leave your food unattended for three minutes and someone eats your tartar sauce.  Of course she claims that I had eaten it before I left, and that I must be losing my mind, but there was something untrustworthy in the gleam in her eye as she said it.  But I digress…

One particular feature about this pub that surprised us was the number of American dollar bills taped to the walls.  Each one with George Washington’s stern face looking out and a hand-written message from the traveler that had left it.  It was surprising to realize the number of Americans that must have visited this pub and sat where we were currently sitting.  So, of course, we had to keep with tradition and leave our mark as well.  So, if you’re ever in Gus O’Connor’s Pub look at the wall across from the fireplace for a dollar bill saying, “We left our heart in Ireland” with our names on the bottom.

We made a quick stop at the Rockshop; which sells all sorts of rocks, fossils, and precious stones; before heading back to the hotel.  For dinner, we left the hotel too late and most of the best places were closed.  My wife had a desire for pizza, so we wandered around until we found Just Eat Pizza, Burgers, and Kebabs.  It was run by a couple of Indian guys…this is important because there were Indian spices lacing everything.  My wife asked for chicken on her pizza and got Tandoori chicken.  The sauce also had an unmistakable curry taste to it.  It wasn’t bad, just an interesting twist to a rather ordinary meal.

Northern Immersion - Under Irish Skies

We grabbed a quick breakfast in the hotel, less than satisfying, and then hit the road.  My wife did better with the car today.  The only incident we had was when she was turning right and didn’t swing out wide to the left and instead turned into the oncoming traffic.  But all was fine, as she swerved away from the cars, ran over a kerb, took out a wayward sheep, and managed to get back on the correct (but really wrong) side of the road again.

As we drove, I witnessed an ever-changing sky.  One minute it was gray and dull, the next minute it was blue and intense, and the next minute still it was black and foreboding.  I watched the clouds change and move in an endless dance.  I watched the sun burst through in startling brilliance before being suddenly swallowed up again.  We were pelted by rain and buffeted by wind…and always the sky was changing and shifting.  The sky in this country has so much personality…so much beauty.

It was late afternoon by the time we made it to Limerick.  So, we checked into our hotel, the Absolute Hotel, and headed out for lunch.  Upon the recommendation of John at the front desk, we headed downtown to the Cornstore Bar & Restaurant.  He said the place was so good that it was booked with reservations on the weekends for weeks in advance.  That was enough for us.  Thinking that we might have a pretty good chance of just walking in at 3:45 p.m., we walked through the drizzly rain over to Thomas Street.  When we arrived, the hostess told us that they stopped serving lunch at 4 p.m., so we had about 5 minutes to order.  We both decided on the penne pasta, and my wife decided to try the soup of the day as well.

Both the pasta and the soup were phenomenal.  My wife had me try the soup first, just in case, and the hostess slowed her walk as she passed to see how I’d like it.  When I declared that it was absolutely delicious; she smiled, nodded her head, and kept on walking.  The food was definitely worth its reputation.  An absolute must if you ever come to Limerick, Ireland.

Tonight, we decided to eat in the hotel bar, the Absolute Bar & Grill.  Since we had had a late lunch, we split the fish of the day (due to the heavy, indecipherable accent of the waiter, we still to this day don’t know what kind of fish it was…even after asking twice) and some caprese.  It was okay, but not great.  That seems to be my experience with hotel restaurants over here.

After dinner, my wife ordered the Lemon & Blueberry Trifle, and we both ordered hot chocolates with marshmallows.  The hot chocolate was divine…I slowly savored every steaming chocolately, sip.  My wife on the other hand devoured her trifle like a starving man eating his first meal.  She even went so far as to try to lick every last bit out of the glass.  Unfortunately for her, they had served it in a wine flute, so she could only get her tongue a couple of inches into the glass.  She gave up in an exasperated huff and drank her hot chocolate instead.

Northern Immersion - View from Behind the Wing

Today, we flew from Athens to Belfast.  In total on this trip, I have taken six different flights so far.  On every one of them, I have been in the row just behind the wing.  I have been on both sides of the aisle, in the window seat, in the middle seat, and in the aisle seat.  But no matter what, I have been in the exact same row relative to the wing of the plane.  My view out of the window is always the same view.  Every picture I have taken out the window has been a different landscape or skyscape with the exact same view of the wing.  I have two flights left before this trip is complete, and I have every confidence that they will see me sitting behind the wing as well.

We got a rental car from the airport, so we could drive around Ireland.  Russ helped us at the EuropCar desk, and not only was he extremely nice, but was a wealth of information.  He was a young guy and patiently answered all of our questions like he’d heard it all a hundred times before.  He was the perfect guy to be working that desk.  He hooked us up with free sat nav as well, since he laughingly took pity on the foreigners.  We ended up in a VW Golf, which proved to be interesting when we tried to fit our five suitcases inside.  But somehow we managed with some Tetris Level – Expert arranging.

Since we’re in one of those “backwards” countries, the steering wheel is on the wrong side of the car!  We thought this and the driving on the wrong side of the road thing were going to be issues for my wife.  But in the end, that isn’t what got her.  It was an unlikely culprit that caused her the biggest issue.  She claims the brakes on the car are uber-sensitive.  Every time she “gently” pushed them, I was slammed into the dashboard.  I had whiplash and a headache by the time we made it to the hotel.  Not to mention the backaches and neck strains from the 100-pound force of the two suitcases on the back seat ramming into the back of my seat.  I have never been so thankful to get out of a car in my life.

I think the driving on the wrong side of the road thing will slowly manifest itself as well.  Last night, we had a panicked moment when we got to the roundabout, and my wife had no idea which direction to take around it.  She chose to drive straight through the middle…I guess that works too!

We had trouble finding the Fitzwilliam Hotel, because even though the hotel is on a corner, the name is only on one side…and it is written small and fancy, making it hard to find in the dark.  We also found out that they don’t have free parking for hotel guests, so we had to pay for valet parking service.  I hope this isn’t like this everywhere we go, because this trip is going to get really expensive very quickly.

It was late, so we grabbed dinner at the hotel bar.  My wife said the Caesar Salad was good, lots of chicken, very little salad.  My Fitzwilliam Hamburger was terrible.  Breakfast will be interesting as well, since it’s not included with the room.

Northern Immersion - That awkward moment…

…when you came over to visit with my wife and her English-speaking husband, and you make eye contact with the husband, and you realize that all of you are speaking Greek with a speed and energy that is making it hard for you to understand each other and the English-speaking husband is sitting by himself completely left out of the conversation and not understanding a word that is said. 

You have two options at this moment.  You can try to engage the English-speaking husband in conversation to try to make him feel more comfortable, knowing that your English is not very good, thereby making yourself a little uncomfortable.  Or you can break eye contact, look away as if you never saw him sitting there, become even more involved in the on-going conversation, continue to make the English-speaking husband uncomfortable while preserving your own comfort, and think to yourself, “He came to Greece, so he should be speaking Greek.”

Both of these choices have happened to me, but the second one happens more often.  Tonight, I even predicted this would happen before it happened.  I told my wife that the cadre of people coming over to “visit” with me was really coming over to visit with her.  They would speak in Greek, so I wouldn’t understand them, and I would sit in silence and be bored.  And when Androula, Ioannis and his wife, Kostas, Irini, Mirto, and Alepetha came over tonight that’s exactly what happened.  Only this time, I decided that I wasn’t going to just sit in the background and be ignored.  So I let my wife visit and enjoy their company, and I went to the den and watched football with babas mou.  This helped to pass a very enjoyable evening for me, even if I was being a little “rude” to our guests by not being in the same room as them.  Ironic, isn’t it?

Not much else happened today.  The only other highlight was Georgios took the jerseys he had bought me and got my name put on the back.  On the AEK jersey, he got my name, like I was one of those one-named Brazilian players.  On the Greek national team jersey, he got Derekithis (Derekithis), which means that I am from Pondi, the region that babas is from.  Babas loved this tribute to his people, so I was happy too.

Tomorrow is packing and traveling day.  We leave Greece after our quick week and head back to Ireland.

Northern Immersion - Freeze the American

Day 6 of cold showers, and I find myself huddling as close to the laptop battery as I can to warm up.  I guess I should explain.  Apparently, in this house, showers are traditionally taken at night, not in the morning.  In addition, the concept of a water heater is foreign (pun intended).  Instead, they have a boiler that uses oil to heat the water.  This boiler must be switched on when hot water is required, and then given at least 20 minutes to heat up the water.  However, as I said before, showers are taken at night here, so the boiler is not normally switched on in the morning.  Which means that if I want to take a shower in the morning to wake up, feel refreshed, and be clean to embrace the day; I have to take it cold.  This has led to a series of three-minute showers where every possible “extravagance,” such as using conditioner or washing unnecessary body parts, is excluded.  On the flip side, I actually wake up faster and strangely invigorated, right before I plunge into my waiting clothes.  I told my wife that it’s like a game of Freeze the American.

Today, we headed back to Monasteraki, so my wife could buy some remaining gifts for her co-workers and friends.  I have a completely different approach.  I spend money buying gifts for me, because it’s my vacation.  If someone I work with wants a gift from Greece, then they need to spend their own $2000 and go to Greece and get it themselves.  I don’t want to waste my few, precious moments hunting around for some crap that costs too much and they won’t like anyway.  I want to spend it enjoying my vacation, and if I find something I like along the way, then I’ll get it. 

And enjoy is exactly what I did today.  We happened upon the Olympieion today.  This is better known as the Columns of the Olympian Zeus.  It’s the remainder of a colossal ruined temple in the heart of Athens that was dedicated to Zeus.  And when I say colossal, I mean that the remaining columns tower over 55 feet in the air!  If you want to feel small and insignificant or marvel at the accomplishments of early man, then this is the place to do it. 

There is a beautiful stone archway that sits on one side of the ground and points back toward Athens proper.  This is known as Hadrian’s Gate, name after the Roman Emperor who dedicated the temple when it was finally completed during his reign.  Also in that same direction, you can see the Acropolis towering on its mountaintop high above the city; and in the other direction a skyline of Mount Hymettus.

Tonight, we went out with some of Georgios’ friends to a neighborhood bar called the View.  It’s a quaint, comfortable little bar that features cozy décor, friendly staff, and a laid-back atmosphere to enjoy conversation with your friends.  I had a nice time getting to know Georgios’ friends:  Pericles, Voula, Georgios, and Evi.  They are very nice people and seem like very good friends for my brother.

On a side note, I am about to lose my patience with my wife.  Driven by the stress-imposed environment that one always feels when finding themselves suddenly under the thumb of their parents once again, as well as the manic monster that she turns into when trying to drive in the craziness that is Athens, she’s getting on my last nerve.  She has started to snap at me when I ask a simple question, because she’s like a tightly wound rubber band all the time.  The worst part is that she doesn’t even recognize that she’s doing it. 

There also seems to be a habit in this family of immediate gratification.  You must drop everything and attend to whatever it is that they want at the very second that they want.  There is no concept that you might already be doing something.  For instance, I was lying down yesterday, and Georgios came home with some football jerseys that he had bought me.  My wife bursts in and starts telling me to get up, so I can try them on.  A moment later, her brother comes in carrying the bag.  Here I am, standing there in my underwear, trying on jerseys, because they didn’t even give me a chance to put pants on.  (Which would be my normal state of happiness in most cases, but I do have SOME modesty when it places me in an awkward situation.)

Northern Immersion - The Russian and the Elephant

Today, we got up early, so we could get an early start on a full day of activities.  It turns out that it was a waste of time, because apparently the Sacharidous take longer to get ready in the morning than the Knottses.  We didn’t leave the house until around 11:00 a.m.  So, with a half a day wasted, we headed to the parking for the subway.

Apparently, today the subway workers decided to strike, so the subway was only working on select lines at select times.  They were nice enough to leave a note, though, so we knew to find alternative transportation.  It took us another 20 minutes to find a place to park, and we ended up walking several miles to the nearest taxi stand.  It turns out we didn’t need a taxi after all, because there was an open subway line next to the taxi stand.  So, we headed off to Syntagma Square. 

The subway let out right next to the Parliament House square, which was packed with hundreds of people waving protest flags.  Ignoring them, we pushed our way across the street to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier where they were changing the guard (the Evzones) at that exact moment.  So, we got to watch the complicated ceremony, which features the guard dressed in traditional uniform, complete with skirt, stockings, and shoes with pom-poms.  It’s pretty cool if you’ve never seen it.  This would be our first unexpected gem of the trip.

As we made our way down to the Benaki Museum (Μουσείο Μπενάκη), we realized just how dangerous the protests could be.  There were police and military everywhere, armed with machine guns and riot gear.  Hurrying along to avoid getting caught up in anything, we arrived at the museum to find that admission today was free.  You can’t beat that!  The museum houses an impressive collection of sculptures, paintings, jewelry, pottery, artifacts, and traditional outfits from thousands of years of Greek history.  The beauty and detail of some of the pieces is remarkable considering the tools they had to work with at the time.

From there, we headed out to lunch and coffee with Anna Papaeti, one of my wife's childhood friends, at the Rock and Roll Café.  The food was just okay.  The company was great…and I’m not just saying that because Anna spoke English the whole time, so I wouldn’t feel left out.  She was very nice and sweet.  The biggest drawback to the experience was something that I had completely forgotten about Greece.  The number of cigarette smokers in this country and Athens in particular is ridiculous.  You can’t get away from it.  It’s everywhere.  And they let them smoke in the restaurants, so you can’t even enjoy your meal without it being encompassed in a haze of smoke.

We found ourselves in a corner booth, and all three of the tables around us had smokers at them.  At one point during the meal, I counted seven cigarettes and one cigar being burnt and puffed in my general direction.  At that one moment in time, I inhaled enough second-hand smoke to kill a large elephant.  And there was no reprieve.  As soon as they finished one, they’d light up another.  The guy next to us didn’t even stop smoking while he ate.  He had a cigarette in one hand and a fork in the other!  Needless to say, my eyes were burning, and I had a headache by the time we left there.

After saying our goodbyes to Anna, we headed to Monasteraki to try to do a little shopping before everything closed.  We didn’t get in much, but we managed to buy a few souvenirs for friends before heading home.  While in Monasteraki, I was confused as a Russian mobster.  Some Russian guy sitting on a stool started chasing me down the street and speaking Russian.  When I ignored him, he said in broken English, “I’m sorry, but do you speak Russian?”  I politely replied that “no I do not,” and he left.  I figured he was about to take me upstairs, share a bottle of vodka with me, and plot out a plan to take down the Turks.  My wife said that I looked Russian, so that’s probably why he made the mistake.  I’ve never been confused as Russian before.  Interesting…

Northern Immersion - When Hakkinen Meets Andretti

This morning crawled along.  We didn’t even get started on our day until 3 p.m.  My wife decided that she was ready to get out of the house before she committed matricide, so we headed off to Marathon Lake & Dam.  It’s a beautiful dam built out of marble with a thin, one-lane road across the top.  Cars have to take turns from either direction, so they can fit across the dam.  Unfortunately, the walkway was closed, so we couldn’t hike down to the temple at the bottom.

The village of Marathon is spider-webbed with narrow streets at sharp angles to each other.  My wife navigated them like our lives depended on getting around them at 90 kph.  I thought her mother (a.k.a. Hakkinen) was fearless until I met the daughter (a.k.a. Andretti).  Dogs, people, and cars were running, jumping, and swerving to get out of her way.  I didn’t think that a Suzuki Baleno would go very fast, but she drove it like it was turbo-charged.  Luckily, I made it home alive and with only minimal embarrassment at having to change my underwear.

After Marathon, we went to the outlet mall and walked around.  There wasn’t much to tempt us in the stores, but they had the mall decorated with Christmas lights, colored fountains, and cool light effects.  It was a cute, relaxing way to end out day.

The rest of the evening was spent ironing clothes and sewing curtains.

Northern Immersion - Demolition Derby, a.k.a. The Neighborhood Market

Today, they celebrated the two oldest people on the planet.  At 116 years old, the two women have seen and done a lot.  The reporters asked the women what their secret was for such a long life.  The first replied, “At the age of 38, being constantly abused by my husband, I decided to divorce him.  I have since eaten three eggs every morning.”  The second replied, “At the age of 28, I decided to leave my husband and take care of myself.  I have been eating eggs for breakfast every morning since that day.”  Scientists have concluded that the secret to long life is less marriage and more eggs!

We were headed to the neighborhood market today to buy curtains for our house.  Apparently, you can find beautiful curtains for a fraction of the cost.  Our trip to the market can be summed up as hundreds of rude, impatient people shoving and pushing their way past you because apparently slowing down in the aisle because there is no space to move means that you have to be shoved out of the way to make room for someone else that can stand in your place better.  (I swear I felt like I was back in Houston traffic again.)  What pissed me off the most is when I’d get shoved out of the way and then the person would be walking slower than me.  Or more often would stop in front of me to look at some stupid crap on a table in the very next stall.  Because getting there one nanosecond earlier meant that you got a better bargain or something.  So then, I’d be forced to shove past them so that I could keep walking.  I even had one woman do this routine to me three times.  She would shove past me, I’d shove past her, and she’d shove past me again.

This happened constantly until I was so battered, bruised, and tired that I just wanted to get out of there and go home.  I truly believe that people hunting a bargain cease to be human and turn into monsters.  It was like experiencing Black Friday in a Wal-Mart.  Oh, by the way, we found some really nice curtains.  Well, my wife and mamas did.  I just carried the stuff and guarded their rear flank.

Before going home, we stopped off at Anna’s place to see her, her new baby Konstantinos, and to visit with Alexandros.  Her mother, Eleni, was there as well.  It was nice to see them all, and they were as generous as ever.  Alexandros is nine now, and he’s gotten so big since the last time I saw him.  He really wanted to chat with me, but we are both stymied by language.  I must try again to learn Greek.  There are so many people I’d like to talk to, but can’t.  I can’t expect everyone to speak English all the time.  Alexandros invited us to watch him play soccer.  Hopefully, we’ll get to see him play before we go.

At one point, my wife, Anna, Eleni, and mamas were all talking simultaneously.  I started cracking up laughing at the absurdity of it, because I can’t figure out how any of them could follow what anyone else was saying.  Oh well.  We stopped off at a local gyro shop and got gyros, which were wonderful.

We came home, and I took a nap (because the market had done me in) while my wife and mamas started to hem the curtains.