Athens

Here we were in Athens, the center of culture, and I still couldn't contain myself.

After seven days of relative solitude and cheap, homegrown cuisine, we were once again in the real world. Noisy buses and cars, malodorous factories, Chinese restaurants, Athens is a big city in a small country. But, almost 3,000 years ago, it was even bigger – proportionally … and in terms of influence. After all, it was the center for arts, learning and philosophy, home of Plato's Academy and Aristotle's Lyceum, and the birthplace of Socrates, Pericles, Sophocles, and, not least of all, democracy.

Our first stop was the Temple of Zeus and Hadrian’s Arch, two famous ruins dating back to Roman times – about 500 years after the Hellenic period. That may not seem like a lot, especially considering the similarities of the Roman and Greek cultures, but the difference is huge. It’s the difference in years between Columbo and Columbus. Anyway, these ruins were just that – ruins. And unless a person possesses an inordinate amount of knowledge or interest in archeology or classical cultures, it’s pretty lame. But see them we did. Here are some photos to prove it.
From there we walked around and up the side of the Acropolis, the rock in the center of the city upon which the Parthenon (and some other, lesser known temples) sits, past a couple well- and semi-well preserved amphitheaters, and past this dog, one of many strays in Athens.
Nearby, we found a great view of the city.

From here, thanks to my ignoble leadership, we got lost in what we thought was the shady Greek Agora, the old marketplace where Socrates “corrupted” Greek youths into questioning authority. We sat here, in what we erroneously thought was the Agora for a couple minutes, contemplating old toga’d hippies walking around the woods, telling people to tune in, turn on, and drop out (or whatever it is they said back then), until Kate stole the map from me and realized we were WAY off. WAY off.
So, our shady reprieve ended and we marched through the sunny Greek and Roman Agoras. Yes, when the Romans came, they set up a marketplace too, completely separate from the old and destroyed Greek one (again, 500-year difference).

The Greek Agora was almost completely worthless, save for two things: This Temple to Herakles…
And this museum, with a replica of what the Greek shopping mall looked like 2,500 years ago.
The Roman Agora was also in ruins, despite being 500 years newer. But it did have this interesting site: the Tower of the Winds, the only recognized shrine to the gods of wind, who apparently brought with them a variety of good and bad weather, including rain, drought, and the hot sirocco winds from Africa. Here’s Kate posing outside her favorite: The God of Breaking Wind. Time passed quickly in Athens. But as afternoon turned into early evening and the hordes of cruiseship tourists made their way back to their boats, we knew it was about time for the main event: The Parthenon.
Although it was in relatively good condition until the mid 1600s, when an errant Austrian bomb ignited the building, which had become the weapons arsenal under Turkish rule, the Parthenon today is in ruins. The scaffolding and cranes inside the building didn’t distract TOO much from the beauty of it. But, to me, there wasn’t much beauty to begin with. (Aside from that handsome face in front of it, that is).
The thing about the Parthenon is that its simplicity is deceiving. It probably took ancient Greek mathematicians and architects years to plan the building, a temple to Athena, the resident goddess of the city, who allegedly fought Pericles on top of the Acropolis on which the building now sits. Why? Because the columns are fatter on top than they are at the bottom, giving the illusion of a strong foundation based on equal weight distribution. Also, the columns tip inward at about a 1 percent grade, so that if you continued them they’d eventually form a pyramid. This inward tip apparently gives the illusion of symmetry.

Don’t ask me. To me this building looked like an old, bombed out bank. Sure, it was the first to look like a bank. But, eh, I was more impressed of the views of the city you could get from up there. After getting our picture-taking fill, we went back to the hotel for a rest before going out to dinner. Our hotel was budget-minded, but thankfully in a good area – right outside the Plaka, the traditional top tourist destination (or tourist trap) in Athens, famous for its numerous pedestrian-only streets, shops, and tavernas featuring traditional music.

That night we walked around the Plaka a little, which intermittently offered spectacular views of the Acropolis, and settled on an outdoor table at an overpriced gyros restaurant. Here’s a nighttime shot of the Acropolis, btw.
Dinner was fine, but Kate, Kathryn, and Antonio were more interested in the street peddlers who saw us as easy targets. Antonio didn’t like their repeated solicitations of glowy bouncy balls or cheap flashlights and was irritated when they’d stop by our table. Kate was seemingly entranced by how well one of the street peddlers was doing, giving us a minute-by-minute update on how many fake designer bags one illegal African immigrant had sold. And Kathryn was interested in finding out how much that illegal African immigrant was selling the Burberry bag for.

The next morning we didn’t have much time before leaving to catch our flight, but we managed make our way past the parliament to see these skirted guards, who represent the “tallest and handsomest” Greek soldiers. To me they were nothing special, even with their awesomely goofy shoes.
Our final stop before calling it quits was the Cycladic museum, host to numerous pre-Hellenic archeological finds from the islands we’d just visited. I only stayed for an hour because the Internet café by the McDonalds down the street called my name, but I was told by Kate that it was “neat.”

And that’s it for our trip to Greece. A whirlwind tour of the history of the beginnings of our Western World. Next on our agenda was whirlwind tour of the history of the beginnings of the Gargurevich name – Dubovnik, Croatia.