Camels & Pyramids - Egypt in a weekend!

 

Is she smiling at me?!

Let me start by saying that this was an incredibly short (3 day) trip to Egypt, which was enough time to see pyramids but way too short a time to explore the country’s great diving sights or cruise down the Nile to the Valley of the Kings.  As Egypt is in a state of flux we needed special work permission to travel there and figured a short trip would have a better chance of being approved.  Chris managed the maze of red tape and we were thrilled to be able to go!

Why Egypt?  The Pyramids of Giza (and others), of course.  They’re 4500 years old and the only Ancient Wonder of the World still standing.  Neither of us ever thought we’d be able to see them in person!    It never seemed like a viable trip from the States and even from here it’s an expensive 4 ½ -hour flight to Cairo. 

This was not our smoothest trip to date.  A half-hour before the flight was scheduled to leave we had an ‘oh crap’ moment (our flight wasn’t listed on the departures) that the EgyptAir flight we were taking was actually a code-share with British Midlands, which left not from where we were standing at Heathrow’s Terminal 3, but about a mile away at Terminal 1.  I always laugh at people running through an airport but then say a prayer that they’ll get where they need to be.  I think others do the same, because we somehow made it and got to our boarding gate nice and sweaty but with whole minutes to spare.  I had to confront my own stereotypes and overcome anxiety by getting on a plane where the majority of women were in burkas or headscarves, and men were looking at us like we were suspicious.  I was more self conscious than I’ve been in a while!

So yes, we landed safely in hot, sunny Cairo.  The second ‘oh crap’ moment was having only enough cash to buy one (we needed two) of the tourist visas needed to get through customs.  We knew we’d have to buy the visas, so it was  totally our fault, but we weren’t helped when the two ATMs were both out of order.   It was an ordeal: Chris bought his visa and went through customs, found a working ATM in the main airport lobby, made his way back to customs and handed me money so I could buy my visa and finally make it through customs.  Everything worked out in the end but it was stressful enough to warrant a new Travel Rule: Carry More Cash. 

The first Egypt Challenge was surviving the hour cab ride to the hotel. You think I’m kidding?  22 million people live in Cairo, with 3 million more commuting each day.  The only way to describe the gridlock is organized chaos, emphasis on chaos.  First of all, it was incredibly loud.  Drivers use different taps of the horn to mean ‘I’m next to you’ or ‘I’ll ram you before I let you in front of me’ or ‘go ahead, but I’m not happy about it’ or ‘I’m turning’.  Drivers weave around tuk tuks, slower cars, bikes, mopeds, donkeys, and people, and there aren’t any road markings to go by even if you were remotely interested in staying in a ‘lane’. The number of lanes in a particular road is completely dependent on the aggressiveness of the drivers and size of vehicles present.    On the drive to the hotel we passed through the Cairo suburb Heliopolis, home to many previous presidents’ residences including former president Mubarak’s estate.

 For a few miles we were alongside a wedding party crammed into a group of cars, all of which were blasting their stereos and honking horns to the beat of the music.  The people within were celebrating by shouting, clapping, and singing.   They were straight up having a road party and invited us to join in on the clapping (remember, we’re maybe six inches from cars in the ‘lanes’ next to us… eye contact was inevitable) and our taxi driver honked right along with them. 

 We weren’t two hours into our trip and my senses were overwhelmed by the heat, smells (not terrible, just different), noises, traffic, sights, sun, jarring car movements, and dust.   The sun was setting and the seemingly hundreds of minarets and tall buildings were backlit by the dusty orange sky for most of the drive.  That part was gorgeous, despite the dilapidated, crumbling concrete with rebar sticking out that made up most of the endless mass of gray and brown buildings. Cairo is vibrant but also big, old, and dirty. 

 

 

Being on the road was an adventure in and of itself.

 

We were dropped at our hotel, located in a quiet part of the city.  We had read all about baksheesh (tip/alms/payment for favors) and were ready with our small notes and coins.  Although advanced in some ways, Egypt is still a Third World country.  Most people depend on baksheesh to supplement their minimal wage.  We had budgeted for that and okay with the system, but nothing prepares you for the awkwardness of tipping in an unfamiliar place.  In fact, tipping never fails to be our top anxiety producer while traveling.  Each country has different customs on tipping, from when to how much to physically how to hand it over.  Do you tip everyone who gives you advice or provides a service?  Is it better coming from Chris or me?  Have to be from the right hand?  With a smile or a nod?  Left discretely or given assertively?  Too little can be offensive, but too much is often just as offensive (unlike in the States were the more the better, right?!)  In some countries you round up to the next whole dollar, so a 13.55 bar tab becomes 14, but some would expect 20% for even mediocre service.  Get where I’m going with this?  Most trips involve at least one awkward tipping moment, and this one didn’t disappoint.   I appreciate the Egyptian tendency to respond and deflect awkwardness through humor.  My tactic this time around was to beg Chris to hold our money and deal with all the exchanges.  Hehe. 

There were awkward moments aplenty, actually.  Within five minutes of check-in we couldn’t figure out how to pour the Arabic coffee in the hotel lobby (an attendant saw us struggling and came over to help and then we tipped him but he looked surprised to be given money so that was awkward, too), then weren’t sure if we should just drink it as a shot (it’s poured into a tiny glass cup) or sit down and sip or what, so we just stood in the lobby looking conspicuously Caucasian.  I took it as one sip but it was too hot for Chris so we had to stand there for minutes that felt like hours.  Not kidding, we retreated to the room with the glass in hand!  We were overwhelmed and tired to the point of ordering room service pizza and watching Paralympics until bedtime.  

A fantastic buffet breakfast at our hotel the next morning charged us up enough to brave an expedition into the streets to buy a couple bottles of water as we waited for our tour guide to meet us in the hotel lobby.  We do most trips independently but felt that a guide would be a better option in Egypt (and for us, it definitely was.)   We booked with a company called Memphis Tours because of good reviews on TripAdvisor and were extraordinarily happy with the guide they assigned us named Shaimaa, who was a bubbly, sharp, 27-year old working on her masters in Egyptology at Cairo University.   

Having Shaimaa and our driver allowed us not just see, but understand more in two days than we could’ve experienced in a week by ourselves.  The luxury of an ever-waiting air conditioned vehicle made our trip pleasant as well as efficient.  We were also spared a lot of hassle from unwanted sales pitches and Shaimaa told us when and where to tip, saving us money and eliminating that anxiety.  

After we exchanged hellos and handshakes, Shaimaa rattled to our driver that we were going first to the Great Pyramids and then turned to us with a huge smile and started Shaimaa-ing… that is, speaking excitedly in almost perfect California English (which makes sense, she  learned English from watching George Clooney movies over and over again.)  She also taught us a key Arabic phrase, “Insha’Allah” which means “God willing” but is used for anything in the future tense.  For example:  We’ll go to the Cairo museum tomorrow, Insha’Allah.  If the person speaking forgets to say it, the person they’re speaking to will say it for them, almost reflexively.  Once we understood it as a phrase we heard it everywhere, seemingly always!

Chris and my first impression of the Pyramids was “What?! These are straight up in Cairo! “

We had driven maybe half an hour through nutso traffic and suddenly, seemingly in the midst of the city (actually in the city of Giza which abuts Cairo), the tops of the familiar pyramids popped out from behind buildings.  The pyramids are actually on a plateau but seriously, all the photos make them look like they’re in the middle of the desert when in fact the plateau is surrounded on three sides by buildings.  We got to the pyramids around 9:00 and were two of maybe ten tourists on the entire plateau.   Shaimaa’s constant, bubbly stream of information was invaluable.  She had us picturing what the pyramids would’ve looked like more than 3500 years ago and provided great information about Egypt at that time.   After we got the back story, Shaimaa pointed at the Great Pyramid and exclaimed, “Well go ahead, touch it!” 

 

 

Sitting on the corner stone of the Great Pyramid of Keops.

Ya know, just sitting on a pyramid.

Shaimaa excitedly showing Chris something or other.



Another bonus of having a guide: being together in photos!



Awesome!!!!

We wanted to ride a camel, so Shaimaa bargained with a kid holding two of them and we hopped on for a half-hour ride.  This touristy thing was so worth the $20/each to do. Getting on a camel is easy – it lays down and you just swing your leg over.  The hard part is not looking like an idiot when the camel stands up.  The boy told Chris to lean back and the camel lifted itself to its front knees, then stood its back legs completely up, then straightened its front legs. It was like being on an exaggerated and very slow rocking horse. So yep, we were up.  Our camels were led around to a good photo op location where the 12-year old kid leading us took a bunch of photos and an old guy with a mule offered to sell us a coke.  Tourism took a HUGE hit from the revolution last winter.  The industry once brought in a quarter of the country’s economy but has been down an estimated 75% this year.  That said, we didn’t want to buy things from everyone.  I have some remorse and sadness now, though.  I should’ve just bought the coke for 50¢.  Anyway, we got the photos we had dreamt about – on a camel in front of the Pyramids.  

Lean back, Chris!

I can't believe we're on camels!

Gotta do it.

 

They look unsure about each other.

 

After exploring the Great Pyramids we drove to the other side of the plateau to see the Sphinx.  This huge half man/half lion guards over the plateau.  He’s lost his fake beard (According to Shaimaa, “only our enemies have beards - Egyptian men shave theirs”), nose, and some of his headdress but otherwise is in fantastic shape.  Apparently Napoleon and his French army used his head for target practice in 1798 when they ruled the area for those couple years. 

The Great Sphinx of Giza.



Riding in the back of the truck with six camels.  Don't see that everyday...

Shaimaa advised us not to spend the $18/each to go inside the Great Pyramid and instead took us to another site where we spent a few bucks to go inside a pyramid that looked almost like a pile of rubble.  We climbed down the steep, cramped stairs with a flashlight-wielding guide until the passageway opened into two small rooms – one with a tomb and the other empty where food and supplies would’ve been left for the dead person.  Perfectly preserved 2800-year old hieroglyphics covered the granite walls and the ceilings were carved with stars.  A part of one wall had been restored but otherwise the guts of this pyramid were completely intact.  So cool.  We were surprised that the pyramids are completely solid except for the few very small rooms at the base for the body and whatever other supplies the person may need in the afterlife.   

That pile of rubble is in fact a pyramid.

Going down into the depths.

Ancient heiroglyphics everywhere.

We stopped in a government-run papyrus store before lunch.  I was skeptical at first, but was glad to have a little showing of how papyrus paper is made in a semi-professional setting and then being able to wander in peace for half an hour looking at all the designs for sale.  We did buy a painting as souvenir and am happy we did.  After lunch we went to see Memphis, the ancient capitol of Lower Egypt (as in, ‘lower Nile’, or northern Egypt) founded in 3000BC.  There isn’t much left of Memphis except for a couple huge statues of Rameses II.  We bought a camel hair tapestry for next to nothing as our second souvenir. 

Rameses II has a big head.

  

The last stop of the day was the Step Pyramid of Zoser, built in 2800 BC.  It’s incredibly important in human history as it’s the oldest stone building built by man and was the prototype of pyramids.  The whole family is buried in pyramids close to each other: Granddad has Zoser, his son Khufu (aka Keops) has the largest of the three Great Pyramids of Giza, grandson Khafre has the second-largest one that is built on higher land so looks the tallest, and great-grandson Menkaure has the smallest of the three (it’s thought that power or money was fading by that point).  Their wives have tiny little pyramids next to them.  From a vantage point along the far side of the Step Pyramid we could see fourteen pyramids of various sizes and levels of decay.  I was fascinated that they just discovered another pyramid nine weeks ago in the area, and it’s neat to see all the archeology tents around knowing that discoveries are still being made. 

Archeology work continues on the site.

 

 

Step pyramid of Zoser.

 

We asked to be dropped off at the Four Seasons in Cairo, where we wanted to have a coffee before taking a Nile boat cruise.  Shaimaa was happy with that!  It was interesting that although we come from completely different worlds, she and I were similar in many ways.  She was going out for dinner with friends after our tour, so the both of us used the posh Four Seasons bathroom to wash faces, re-do hair (which she then covered with a gorgeous silk scarf), powder faces, apply eyeliner and mascara, and generally be girly.  Shaimaa talked about her many like-minded girl friends from school, all of whom were studying Egyptology or tourism, and how she had no friends from her old neighborhood.  She talked about liking Mubarak “he did many great things for us in the first ten years he was in office” until he released all the prisoners from prison to cause chaos as backlash for being ousted.  According to her, the streets that had always been safe were suddenly unsafe, and a two-month long 4:00 PM mandatory curfew was enacted.   “We didn’t even know what that word meant in Arabic, let alone know it in English!” Shaimaa said the streets were violent for a while, a rarity because “religion guides us to be peaceful here.”  She said “the army saved us.”  It set up a deal whereby prisoners returning on their own will would get their sentences halved while prisoners who were caught by the army would have their sentences doubled.  Most returned on their own accord and curfew was dropped. 

Shaimaa left to meet her friends and we had a really relaxing evening culminating in an ulcer-inducing taxi ride that night.  It started with a couple hours in the luxurious and air-conditioned lobby of the Four Seasons sipping coffee (Arabic for me, American for Chris – still don’t know if I was supposed to finish the entire urn of coffee they brought).  There was a 20-second spike in heart rate from having to cross the road to get to the waterside, but then another hour of calm as we were sailed up and down the Nile for an hour in a felluca.

Arabic coffee and dates at the Four Seasons.

Fellucas ready to go for a sail on the Nile.  

Nile sunset cruise on the felluca. Very peaceful!

We returned at dusk and walked across the 26 July Bridge that goes from one side of the Nile to the other, stopping over at a large island in the middle that houses some of the fancier homes and embassies in a neighborhood called Zamalek.  I had followed advice to wear long, loose trousers and to cover my arms to at least elbows so as not to attract any bad attention, and this was the first time I felt remotely uncomfortable not wearing a headscarf. It was a nasty feeling to be on the opposite side of it.

A mineret lit at dusk. The calls to prayer are played through loudspeakers from hundreds of the city's minerets.

Party boats on the Nile (without many people in them.)

 

The taxi ride home was a little terrifying.  I think we were just on high alert, but our cabbie started off in the opposite direction than we knew our hotel to be in and then wouldn’t immediately turn around.  I was coming up with a worst case scenario (he’s taking us hostage!) and told Chris I’d jump out of the (moving) car if we didn’t turn the correct direction in the next two minutes.  Thankfully for me and the mental well being of the cab driver I stayed in the car (no seat belts offered, of course).  He turned around eventually, muttering something about traffic.  Turns out he was probably just trying to milk us for a higher fare.

We were picked up at 7:30AM the next morning and went directly to the Mosque of Mohammad Ali on the Saladin Citadel which is high on a hill in the center of Cairo.  From there we went to the Al Rifa’i Mosque which was built in the 1800’s.  When we told Shaimaa it was the first time we had been in mosques she started showing us exactly what happened where and how she prays.  It felt sacrilegious watching her for some reason, but she found my discomfort sort of comical.  We talked about Ramadan and how its purpose is to teach people what it actually is to be hungry and thirsty so one is more apt to understand poverty and give to those in need.  Shaimaa still guides all-day tours during Ramadan when she isn’t able to eat or drink from sunrise until sundown, and said that this year was especially tough because Ramadan fell during the heat of August.  I have to admit I WAS really curious, and after she reassured that we weren’t intruding was glad to have the opportunity to talk freely with her about her religion.  Shaimaa is Sunni as is 90% of Egypt.  I know one person can’t represent an entire region, religion, or group but she’s truly a great face of the Muslim community I had previously known very little about (and only heard the negative about in news.)

Mosque of Mohammed Ali.

Mosque of Mohammed Ali.

 

Inside the Mosque of Mohammed Ali.

Inside the Al Rifa'i Mosque.

I mentioned to Shaimaa that I’d like to buy some local spices, so she and our driver animatedly discussed where to buy some. This is where having a personalized tour comes in most handy.  Chris and I just sat back and tried not to yelp as we drove down an impossibly narrow road into a lively neighborhood bazaar and wound up at the most amazing shop full of tiny bins heaped with various spices.  It was crazy in there. Women were ordering their weekly spices and men with cell phones and lists were trying to read their wives’ handwriting.  Awesome!  Shaimaa took over, thank goodness, and ordered me a quarter kilo (like a quart bag full) of six different spices and spice mixes.  My favorites are the ground mixed spices that she translated and labeled simply “fish”, “chicken”, and “meat”.   $12 total.  Awesome!

Spice shop!

Spice shop!



Egyptian Museum.

From there we went to the famous Egyptian Museum.  Unfortunately, cameras weren’t allowed in. The first artifact we saw was the oldest handmade object in the world.  It was a breastplate from 2800 BC that inscribed with hieroglyphics of the story of the unification of Egypt.  Amongst many other artifacts, there were tons of mummies (of crocodiles, cats, and fish as well as people), thousands of statues, and a collection of gold jewelry that I absolutely drooled over.  The most amazing exhibit for me, though, was the King Tut collection.  It contained almost everything from the 1920 discovery intact and in one place, and was absolutely magnificent and priceless.  Shaimaa was great at zipping right to the most interesting of artifacts and reinforcing dates and knowledge and showing us how everything is interconnected.  I learned more in a weekend than I would have in a semester at university.

 

After lunch of a chickpea/lentil/pasta/rice/tomato/lemon/fried onion mash-up we had some black tea with mint and then made our way back to the airport to recover from a three-day sensory overload.   I’m so thankful we were able to go and have our eyes opened about a unique, history-rich culture and wish the Egyptians all the best in the years to come as face a challenging future. 

Athens and (a few of the) Greek Isles

Santorini, Greece.

 

Um, can we go back?  Ten days in warm, sunny Greece was absolutely magical.  It really felt like the summer we never had in England, which was the coolest and wettest on record.   This trip was planned a full six months ago, in even worse weather: the dead of our dark, cold winter.   Last December I happened upon a Lonely Planet Greek Islands book at the library, fell in love with the descriptions of ‘endless stretches of white sand’ and the ‘sparkling sea’ and spent the following weeks pouring over anything I could find about traveling there.  It wasn’t hard to convince sun-lover Chris, but it was an amazingly difficult trip to plan!  Greece has around 3000 islands, of which about 150 are inhabited.  I’d guess 30 are regularly visited, each of them with its own sort of personality. Islands are known for their scenery, parties, beaches, food, geology, geography, size, culture, ruins, etc.  Santorini is a famous example: it’s known for the stunning landscape formed when a huge earthquake sunk the center of the volcano that formed it. 

Ferries connect some of the islands, some of the time (less frequently than I’d imagined), so the challenge was to find a few islands we really wanted to visit that were also plausible to travel to based on ferry lines and schedules.   We read about the islands and noted a few that looked particularly fantastic, then looked at maps to see if any were in close proximity to each other.  Then we checked ferry schedules (in books and online) to see if any of the islands were regularly connected and realized only a few were.  We could get from Crete to Santorini fairly easily, and those both seemed like ‘unmissables’.  From there we worked backwards, looking at ferry lines and researching each of the islands they serviced to figure out the other couple islands we’d be able to visit.  I’m laughing to myself because it doesn’t look that complicated on paper, but I distinctly remember a solid week of lugging those travel books around everywhere we went to try to hash out the logistics of this trip.  It was fun to read about islands, beaches, and the Mediterranean while hunkered down in winter coats and boots.  In general, ferries move south/north and not east/west (similar to England’s train lines, actually).  There are many named clusters of islands in Greece (the Dodecanese, the Cyclades, and Ionian for example) and ferries tend to stay within the cluster.  The Cyclades had some of the classics, so we decided to stay within them this trip.  We settled on four islands – Crete (the big one just south of the Cyclades), Santorini, Mykonos, and Naxos.  

But first, Athens!  We took an overnight flight from London, which seemed like a brilliant idea at the time (save on a night’s hotel!) but as the flight was only 3.5 hours long and we arrived at 4am Athens time (2am our time) we didn’t get enough sleep and were hazy the rest of the day.  We waited for dawn in the airport, then took an hour-long bus ride into the center of Athens, had breakfast, and walked to our hotel.  

Catching some zzz's at the airport.

Strange changing of the guards ceremony in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Athens.

 

Athens is a massive city with an absurdly rich history (think: birthplace of Plato and Aristotle, the arts, Olympics, democracy) but the actual historical sites are condensed to a really small area.  We spent the morning walking around the busy main shopping street that connected Syntagma (Consitution) Square to our hotel area near Plaka.  (Aside:  highlighter neon shoes are all the rage in Greece- there were thousands on display.  Are they popular in the States as well?) We stopped by Hadrian’s library and the Roman Agora and then made our way to the gem: the Acropolis.  The site is set on a high flat rock 500 feet above the city.   The hike around the base and then to the top was no joke and we were thankful for some cloud cover to keep the temperature bearable.  Whether it was the lack of sleep or lack of guide, we weren’t floored by the Acropolis.   It’s amazingly old (400-500 BC if I remember correctly) and quite grand, but is currently under scaffolding for restoration.  We spent an hour on the hill and then admitted defeat and hiked back towards town.  We stopped for lunch at a tiny restaurant and had our very first Greek salad.  It would be the first of at least ten such salads and by the end of the trip we were quite particular about them!

Looking up at the Acropolis.

Chris from the base of the Acropolis, looking out over Athens and Areopagus hill, where the apostle Paul delivered his message to the Athenians.

Ancient stadium in Acropolis.

The Parthenon.

Greek salad!

There is no lettuce on a Greek salad.  It consists of chunks of tomato, cucumber, and sweetish purple onion, strips of green peppers, olives, and a (huge) hunk of feta cheese seasoned with oregano, salt, and pepper.  Add a generous pour of olive oil and maybe a touch of the light vinegar… yum, yum, yum.

Anyway, after a much-needed nap we wandered around the Plaka (shopping) neighborhood for a while, then had a drink at a bar called Brettos to taste their homemade ouzo (tastes like black licorice) and raki (Crete’s unique clear spirit).

The next morning it was back to the airport for a 40-minute flight to Chania, a town on the western third of Crete.  Chania airport was one little building with a suddenly non-functioning luggage belt that started working two minutes after the hourly bus into town… forcing us to take a E25 cab ride… coincidence?  All annoyance disappeared when we were dropped off at our hotel, Constantino’s Studios, where we were at once greeted by Constantino himself. Leave your bags!  Go to the beach!  We did, and we did.  Two minute change, two minute walk to the beach, and we settled in to our first real holiday in a long time.  We sat on the beach and played in the amazingly clear, blue water for hours, until hunger forced us the 30 feet to a beachside taverna long enough to eat an omelet, Greek salad, and white wine, then it was back on the beach until late afternoon.  We spent a fortune on sunblock! Our first day in the sun, on the sea, was incredible.  Not having a true summer made us appreciate the perfect weather and water temperature even more than we otherwise would have.  The evening involved a relaxing stroll up to the Old Town and its picturesque harbor.  

 

The beach by our hotel in Chania, Crete.

Chania's harbor.

 

The next morning we felt great after a morning jog.  Back to the beach!  Lunch this day turned out to be our favorite meal of the trip: another amazing omelet, sardines in olive oil, Greek salad, dry white wine, dolmades, and fish soup.  (We didn’t even eat dinner that night).  Other than a two-hour lunch, we spent the whole day on the beach until catching an evening bus to Iraklio, a city 2.5 hours away towards the center of Crete where we planned to catch a ferry to Santorini the following day. The bus ride wasn’t the flat, coastal ride I had expected!  Our driver took the mountainous curves incredibly fast for our huge coach.  We arrived into Iraklio late at night and were immediately met with a bad surprise: the only ferry to Santorini the following day was sold out.  Nooo!!! Totally my fault – I knew to book it, and had even been to the booking website but just hadn’t ever completed the transaction.  I was so, so mad at myself and completely frustrated.  We were instructed to either stay an extra day in Iraklio (no thanks, ugly city!) or take our chances and get to the ferry a few hours early to try to get on a waiting list for last-minute cancelations.  Blah. 

We woke up early the next morning, had our first experience of Greek yogurt and honey for breakfast (the day was looking up!), unfortunately walked the longest route ever to the ferry (hot, sweaty, with bags, stressed…) put our name on a list and waited nervously for a couple hours.  It wasn’t the most fun morning, but we were successful, and we were two of the last few people to board the ferry for our three hour ride to Santorini.  What a relief!  The ferry ride itself was smoother than I thought it would be and the view of Santonrini on the approach was stunning. 

Whew, last seats on the ferry to Santorini.

The ferry arrived at the tiny, bustling ‘New Port’ where we hopped a local bus into Fira, the main town at the top of the caldera, or cliff.  We did make sure to buy the next day’s ferry tickets to Mykonos before we left the port – we weren’t going through THAT again!  

From Fira we walked 15 minutes uphill to our hotel, which was a gorgeous room  perched on the cliff with a killer view (the best of the trip for sure.)  We showered off the day’s sweat and anxiety and made our way back to downtown Fira to the ‘Old Port’ to take a sunset boat ride around the little volcanic islands.  I agreed to walk down the 600 steps to get there in return for either catching the cable car or riding a donkey for the return trip.  I’m on vacation, honey! 

Dinner plus a view!  Fira, Santorini.

Fira, Santorini.

Chris on the 600 stairs to the New Port in Fira, Santorini. 

View of the stairs zig-zagging up from the New Port to Fira, Santorini.

 

The boat trip was good.  It was nice to be on the water, and really interesting to explore the surrounding volcanic islands.  We swam in some ‘hot springs’ that were more ‘brown lukewarm water’ and pretty disappointing after places like Hot Springs, Arkansas where the water comes out close to boiling!  The sunset itself was seriously disappointing because of a low layer of clouds but the views of the islands on the ride back made up for that.   

On Kameni island just off Santorini, which was born from an underground volcano in the 1700's and continues to be formed.  The last deposit was an eruption in 1950. 

Volcanic islands off Santorini.

Sunset failure.

Fira, Santorini.

Stairs, stairs, everywhere.  Fira, Santorini.

 

The donkey parade was held up by this guy looking for a snack.  Fira, Santorini.

We left gorgeous but ridiculously expensive Santorini to head to party central Mykonos the next day.  Ferries aren’t cheap, this trip was a few hours long and around $65/each.  This whole ferry/arrival experience was so much less stressful than the previous one.  We had pre-booked the tickets, arrived in plenty of time, had a short ride chatting with some American honeymooners, and were then picked up from the ferry by our hotel owner, George.  Easy breezy!  George carted us and five 23-year old guys back to his hotel where we oohed and ahed at our view, comfy bed and huge bathroom (with fixed overhead shower… a luxury in Greece and the rest of Europe.)

From our private veranda looking across the pool to the sea.  Notice the Carolina blue and white paint scheme on the hotel (and most of the houses in Greece!) 

 

We dropped our stuff and made our way to Paradise Beach, maybe the most famous party beach in Greece.  Although it’s officially a couple weeks past the end of the tourist season, the party was still going in Paradise.  The beach was lined by bars and restaurants but dominated by Club Tropicana, where a deejay was blaring tunes much to the joy of the handful of a few 20-somethings on the dance floor.  I was torn between mocking the cheesiness of the place and really enjoying the soundtrack to our beach time.  We were struck with a few things pretty immediately.  The first thing was how arid the islands are.  There isn't much plant and animal life on Mykonos especially!  It was even starker than Tuscon, Arizona and definitely didn’t match my (unfounded) mental image of palm trees and flocks of sea birds.  The second shock was about the beach itself: it wasn’t sandy and was entirely ‘organized’, which we’d come to realize means 90% of the beach is covered in umbrella-covered lounge chairs which you could rent for about $25/day and have the privilege of a scantily clad person bringing you expensive drinks and food.  We were the only two playing on the beach and some of the only people in the water at all, and definitely the only ones who had brought a picnic from the little corner store up the road.  It was a beach to go to “see and be seen”, which is fine but just not our style.    Like I said, though, the music was fun and the people-watching was hilarious.  After the sun faded we took George’s advice and flagged down a local bus to take us into Mykonos Town to walk around ‘Little Venice’ that night.  It was incredibly quaint, with narrow, windy, cobbled streets lined by brightly lit shops, restaurants, and bars.  We enjoyed a glass of ouzo and a Greek yogurt with honey on the waterfront before going to a bar for a couple hours.  The bartender was appalled that our next stop was Naxos, “Oh God, it’s going to be you and the locals!”  (Chris and I exchanged a mental high-five.) The shops on the street were all open as we walked the short way back to the bus at 1AM, and people were really just arriving to start their night. 

  

This is not sand.  Paradise Beach, Mykonos.

Keeping it classy.  Paradise Beach, Mykonos.

  

After breakfast the next day, Chris and I took a calique, or water taxi, to a nearby beach called Elia.  It was cloudy when we arrived (boo!) and we were sad to see it too was ‘organized’ and pebbly.  It was snotty, too, again the ‘see and be seen’ thing going on.  Ah well.  The sun came out and we made do until the earliest ferry came to take us back to Paradise (at 2:30… we were stuck for a while.)  Paradise looked good after Elia!  We had a fantastic swim in the sea out to a nearby point before relaxing in the hot tub at the hotel. 

George took us to the ferry the next morning and we were off to Naxos!  It was a very pleasant 40-minute ride chatting with some American honeymooners from Colorado.  Naxos is a huge island, more fertile than most.  The whole westerly side is a 20-mile stretch of (mostly) sandy beach and the interior is mountainous.  Everything from food to taxis to hotel ($25/night) was markedly cheaper than anywhere else we had been in Greece.  We were so, so pleased with the beach Agia Anna that was right down the street from our hotel, and spent the whole rest of the day there.  There were other people (our age!) playing beach ball, laughing, and swimming.  The beach was full of families, too, picnicking on the beach and enjoying life, and only a few chairs dotted the scene.  It was so much more our style.  Give me unorganized and sandy any day!  The town was tiny but perfect- a couple good restaurants, a coffee/internet café run by the same lady who owned the grocery store next door, and a moto rental place. The island was quite large and had many areas to explore so I ceded to Chris’s want to rent an ATV, even though I swore never to ride with him again after an ‘incident’ last time we were on one together…   I’ll admit the quad was a lot of fun and made the island feel smaller.  We popped into town for yet another great meal.  The old man who owned the place wouldn’t let us make any faux pas by giving us clear ‘advice’ on what to do (“you start slowly with this” as he drops off a Greek salad) and how to properly drink ouzo (“you order water, too”, as he shows us to put a cube or two of ice in, some ouzo, and then a splash of water).  Love it!  Yet another thing to love about Naxos was the free bit of dessert (usually sliced fruit, liquor, or yogurt with honey) delivered after each meal.  I love that Greek restaurants assume everyone will be sharing each of the dishes ordered.  The Greeks, like the Italians and French dive into meals with gusto and respect, tasting and chewing and generally slowly enjoying the heck out of whatever fresh, tasty food is in front of them.  They emphasize fresh anything, olive oil, herbs, lamb, olive oil, seafood, olives, olive oil, wine, tomatoes, olive oil, bread, and fresh nuts.  Oh, and olive oil.  I think we consumed a gallon of it these past ten days but didn’t gain weight.  Is this Mediterranean diet thing for real? They don’t serve 0% Greek yogurt, either… I saw 2%, 4%, and 10% for sale at the store! 

Agia Anna Beach, Naxos.

 

Trouble.

 

Ouzo!

 

Whew, I digress.  The next morning, armed with a map (of the island’s ten roads, none of which had names), some groceries, sunblock, a camera, and helmets, we rode our way to Aliko beach, which was about 10 miles south of Agia Anna.  Oh. My. Heaven. On. Earth.   We found our perfect Greek beach!  It felt like a hidden, magical escape.  The beach was white sand (not Destin-powder soft but certainly not pebbly), the water was crystal clear, there were zero chairs, and you actually had to clamber down a 15-foot-deep crevice in the surrounding cliff-edge to get down to the sandy cove.  We were happy to share it with a few like-minded people.  Like all the Greek beaches there were various levels of nudity which by the end of ten days didn’t even warrant a giggle.  We’re pretty prudish, us Americans (& the Brits, but less so) but the contrast from Egypt only two weeks ago was especially stark. 

Surprisingly, the Greek seas were almost as devoid of life as its islands. There were some small schools of fish, and the occasional sea slug and urchin, but it wasn’t nearly as teeming as I’d mentally pictured. The visibility is astounding, though, so although we opted not to dive we did buy some cheap snorkeling masks and putter our way around the coast.  I was shocked to see details on the rocks 30 feet down!  To add to the awesomeness of the beach, a girl set off windsurfing and cut back and forth along the coast for an hour.  Pretty impressive!  We had another great meal at a local tavern and from there drove about 30 minutes inland to Naxos’ oldest town, Halki. 



 

Aliko Beach, Naxos.

Such clear water!  Aliko Beach, Naxos.

Aliko Beach, Naxos.

Kite surfer, Aliko Beach, Naxos.

 

We walked around the little town, which took roughly 30 seconds as ‘walking around town’ meant turning in a circle looking at the tiny town square made up of the intersection of two tiny pedestrian-only walkways. On one side of the square was the Kitron Distillery, where we took a free ‘tour’ which involved an old woman walking us to a room, pointing at some copper pots, saying “That how we make it” with a wave of her hand, smiling, then walking out. We tried a few of the varieties (not sweet, little sweet, very sweet), and bought a few little bottles. Across from the distillery is a famous ceramics shop that was sadly closed for the afternoon. 

 

Packing up the quad to head inland.

 

 



Bottles of kitron at the Vallindras Distillery in Halki, Naxos.

 

The drive back to the hotel was scenic and fun.  I loved the every-day working feel of the island – it was really evident that only a bit of its revenue came from tourism. We witnessed a gorgeous sunset and fawned over a baby seal that had made its way to the beach, lost, no one at Naxos having a clue what to do with it.  Take it? Leave it? Feed it? Put it back in the water?  The island police came to keep people away after the owner of the local dive shop called the island’s vet who advised everyone to back off and let the mother come get the pup overnight which she was likely to do. 



Naxos.

Just another view from the ATV...

Navigating Naxos' interior.

Baby seal on Agia Anna beach.

Amazing sunset in Agia Anna, Naxos.

The next morning, our last on the beach, we tried another beach- Mikri Vigla which was good but after a few hours we packed up and went back to our favorite.  It seemed only fitting to spend our last day on the islands at the best beach we had come across on our trip!  We lazed around all day and spent a good two hours over dinner, enjoying the food, our view of the ocean, and each others’ conversation and company.  It was a magnificent end to the best of holidays. 

The next day was 16 hours of nonstop travel – 6 hours by ferry to Athens, 1 ½ hour bus from the port to the airport, few hours waiting for the plane, four hour plane ride, then hour and a half from London Heathrow home.  We were absolutely exhausted and ready to stretch out on our own bed!  The weather forecast calls for 50 degree and rainy days for the forseeable future, so maybe I should just hang on to that Greek Isles book for a few more days!