A Midsummer Night's Dream - Day 4 - The Return Journey

5/31/16, “The Return Journey”

Athens International Airport “Eleftherios Venizelos”, Greece (ATH)

My time in Greece has come to an end, and it’s been a great trip.  Not just a great trip, but, like, a really, really great trip.  The trip we took in 2004 consistently ranks in my top five or top ten trips of all, and this one will be high on the list, too.  It was just one of those trips where everything went right, and I enjoyed practically every minute of it.

Whether it was visiting the two Olympic Stadiums and the site of the Colossus of Rhodes, the main purposes of this trip, sipping on my ouzo with my cigar after dinner, or just relaxing in the hotel, I loved every part of the trip.  Now, it is time to go home.  Tomorrow I will be back at the office, and, Saturday morning, I will be going to Philadelphia, and, the following weekend, I will be departing for London.  The Summer of Travel is well underway, and it’s going to be epic.

Greece is much like the Caribbean islands, and, as I noted the first time I travelled to the Caribbean (excluding Puerto Rico), the distinction between outdoors and indoors is blurred.  In hot-weather countries, this distinction is almost always blurred.  The Middle East is littered with outdoor cafes, as are Africa and the North American tropics.  The Mediterranean is no different.  These outdoor cafes contribute to the smoking culture that is often so evident.

Contrast this to a country such as Canada or England, which is almost entirely an indoors city.  Canada even has networks of weather-protected indoor passageways in some major cities.  It is the exact opposite of what it is here.  An interesting aspect of that is that taxis are considered an extension of this indoor/outdoor dichotomy.  In outdoor countries, the taxi (or the car in general) is considered an outdoor space.  For indoor countries, the taxi is considered an indoor space.  That means, in a hot-weather country, there is usually no question about being able to smoke in a taxi.  That is usually not true in a cold-weather country.

If I wanted to discuss economics, there is a lot to go there, too.  Unless they have oil reserves, hot countries are poor, and cold countries are wealthy.  Britain, Norway, Sweden, Canada, the United States are among the wealthiest large countries in the world.  Most countries in hot climates are very poor, which is ironic, since so many natural resources are so prominent in this zone.  What natural resources does Sweden have?  Certainly very little compared to Cuba or Greece.  I would have to assume that hot weather leads to decreased productivity.

I do not do well in the heat myself, and I try to avoid hot weather climates in the summer, preferring, instead, my travels to take me north, as I explained in my Day 0 entry.  The rest of the summer will continue to take me north, other than Brazil, which is actually its winter, until I return to this region to visit Rome for my birthday.

However, when we look at the past, all the great civilizations from Mesopotamia to Egypt to Babylon to Persia to Greece to Rome were this region (even the early Asian cultures are in an extremely fertile region), and I suppose that had to do with early man having better survival ability in warm climate, where food was constantly available, than in colder climates where they would need to learn to store food.  As we evolved and learned new techniques, we moved away from this region.  We spread throughout Asia, to northern Europe, to the Americas, to Australia.

It is ironic, then, that the most developed countries are the ones where man least recently settled.  Why is that?  It is not enough to use the hot cold distinction, since the politics of Eastern Europe surely contributed more to its economic woes than did its proximity to Mesopotamia, likewise for many African nations and parts of the Caribbean (and Latin America).  Would it be a valid theory to say that hot climates lead to political unrest?  Perhaps.  I cannot fully answer these questions, but I will continue to reflect I continue my return journey.

After I closed last night, I was soon asleep, and I woke up almost as late as possible, having no desire for breakfast.  I lit up a Romeo y Julieta and started packing.  I then headed down to get a taxi, finishing the cigar en route to the airport.  Check-in, emigration, and security were all a breeze, and I went straight to the duty-free shop.  I found the cigars, and I was shocked how cheap they were (even after converting from Euros to dollars).  A sales clerk walked in and started speaking.  It was all Greek to me.  Literally.  She then tried English, apologizing, saying that I looked Greek.  I try, so I took that as a compliment.  I picked out some cigars, sticking to my budget and getting far more value for it than I expected.  I also got a bottle of ouzo and a bottle of wine within that budget.  I then went to the smoking lounge, where I sat down, lit up a Partagas from my new box, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my cigar and maybe get a quick snack and/or coffee before we board.

Aboard UA 125, En route ATH-EWR

We will soon be landing, and, when we do, after I pass through border control, I will take a bus back to Grand Central, signifying the end of this trip.  With three overnight stays, this has been my longest trip in over four months, when I met Roberto in Cancun so that we could explore the Yucatan together.  On Friday, he will be visiting me, and I will be hosting him for a week, until I leave for London.  As I have said numerous times so far this trip, the Summer of Travel is well underway.

I could write a little more about Greek culture, but, for me, the true draw of Greece was always the ancient culture, which, by extension, includes the two Olympic Stadiums of the modern era.  I just realized that, if protocol didn’t dictate strict naming conventions for these four days (two Olympic Stadiums, completing another of my 17 Goals, and the return journey), I could have had some fun naming each day after a song from Hercules.  I loved that movie, just as I always loved all representation of Ancient Greece, just as I love Greek philosophy and history in general.  Yeah, I guess I don’t really have anything more to add that I didn’t write at the airport.

After I closed, I picked up a coffee and a sparkling water.  We soon boarded, and I had the whole three-seater to myself, but the other aisle was soon taken by someone else who switched seats.  It meant I couldn’t lay down, but I still had plenty of room.  For my in-flight entertainment, I opted for the J. J. Abrams movie, Cloverfield.  It was okay, but I liked the more polished “10 Cloverfield Lane”, the “spiritual sequel,” much better.

The credits were rolling when they brought lunch, chicken with mushrooms and spinach, which was surprisingly good, or maybe I was just really hungry.  I then took a nap, waking up past noon New York time.  I then connected to the Wi-Fi and got caught on the news, social media, and my work emails.  After that, they brought turkey and cheese sandwiches, which were, also, surprisingly good.  I then proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, as we will soon be landing.

En route, Newark Airport Express 70920

And so it ends.  Within an hour, I will be back at the cigar shop, regaling my friends with tales of my adventure.  A few hours after that, I will be asleep, and, then, tomorrow morning, back to work.  It seems this adventure has come to an end almost as soon as it began, but the next adventure awaits.  After I closed on the airplane, I got myself situated for landing, and I was soon at the Global Entry kiosk, which, actually, had a bit of a line.  I’m pretty sure the last time I had to clear border control at Newark was a year ago when I went to the Stockholm and Helsinki.  I enjoyed the symmetry of that.  Once I used the kiosk, I headed past baggage claim and to Customs, where I showed my print-out and was waved right through.  That was that.  I got my ticket for the express bus back to Manhattan, and I waited for it outside.  It soon came, and I was on my way.  I sat in the back, where, once we on the highway, I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, along with closing out this trip.  Next stop: Philadelphia with Roberto.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Day 3 - Athens 1896

5/30/16, “Athens 1896”

Athens, Greece

Athens is a city with 3000 years of history, but, for me, it was here, 120 years ago that the most significant event in Athenian history occurred.  The first Modern Olympic Games were hosted here, in this very stadium where I sit.  When I go to Rio in August, it will be to witness the 27^th such Games to be hosted since the ones in Athens in 1896.  Those Games are the direct continuation of what occurred here in 1896, hosted every four years, with only three exceptions for wars, over the course of the past 120 years.  By the end of this year, I will have visited all 27 Stadiums, and I hope my readers can await with as much anticipation the entry that will be written on December 31 (or 30), 2016, entitled, “Sydney 2000”, but, for now, I will be writing about Athens 1896.

I’ve been here before.  Or, more accurately, I have seen this Stadium before, but I have not been inside.  Like so much of what I do today, I will be reliving my 2004 trip to Greece.  I’m even staying at the same hotel we stayed at when we were here in 2004.  Back then, Greece was literally number one on my travel list.  I was completely obsessed with Greek mythology and history.  I could name all the Greek Gods and Goddesses and Heroes.  I knew it all.  The idea of going to visit that country was as awesome as could be imagined, and, to go in 2004, right before the Olympics, that made it even more special.  Now, here I am, reliving some old memories.

What is number one on my travel list now?  Without a question, it’s Rome.  Greenland and Iceland are a distant second, Mongolia right behind them.  I will be going to Rome for my birthday, and it will be a relaxing trip, much like this one has been.  There are only three destinations in Rome that count for me: the Olympic Stadium, the Coliseum, and the Vatican.  Daytrips to Pompei and Pisa also appeal to me, but it is the three sites in Rome that matter most.  I love the irony that I am beginning the summer in Athens and ending it in Rome.

I have about five hours before dark, and I intend to use each and every one of them preciously.  After I am done here, I will make my way to the Acropolis, stopping at some modern civic sites along the way.  Then, who knows what?  I will make tonight epic.  I have a long plane ride to sleep tomorrow, and I fully intend to take advantage of everything the city has to offer before I get on that plane.  I’m sure my reader knows what I would most love to do, but I don’t know if people still do that: find a symposium, where I can drink and talk philosophy until sunrise.

Okay, so what happened after I closed last night?  I worked on figuring out how I’d watch Game of Thrones with my mother.  HBO has a regional block on streaming, so that meant I had to go with Plan B.  My mother would turn the camera on her computer from our video chat at the TV, and I’d watch that way.  We tested it.  It worked.  Not well, but it worked.  I published my entry and passed out, waking up around when she got home from dinner.  I lit up my OpusX, and we watched.

There were plenty of bugs, but it was a boring episode, so it didn’t exactly matter.  And when I call a Game of Thrones episode “boring”, that means it’s a B- episode, that’s how good the show is.  Since I was facing east towards the harbor, I was able to see the sunrise from my seat, and it was even more beautiful than the sunset.  As soon as the episode was over, it was 6 AM, and I messaged my friend who had finished watching an hour earlier.

We messaged back and forth about the episode for three hours, almost non-stop, as I packed, ate breakfast, and got ready.  For three hours, we dissected every plot point from the episode and debated every theory either of us had going forward.  We do this every week, for three hours every Sunday night.  That was one of the main reasons I wanted to watch this morning, so that we would not miss out on our weekly analysis.

Oh, right, breakfast.  That wasn’t half bad, actually, especially since it was free with my cheap hotel room.  It was all cold food (plus coffee), so I got meat and cheese and yoghurt.  It was great.  After we were done with our discussion, I took a taxi to the airport, lighting up a Joya de Nicaragua, which I would continue to smoke outside the gate as I wrote my personal entry, the companion entry to this trip’s Travelogue entry.  I breezed through security, and we were soon boarding, a big plane this time, with jet engines.  I slept most of the short flight to Athens, and I took a taxi to the hotel.

When I got to the hotel, I recognized everything.  It looked exactly like it did 12 years ago.  Exactly.  I went to my room, overjoyed that I could see the Acropolis from my window, and I relaxed a bit as I charged up my phone.  As soon as I felt I had enough power on my phone, I headed out to the Olympic Stadium, a short enough walk.  As I walked, I was shocked to see such a police presence, including ceremonial guard, as I walked by the Parliament and Presidential Palace.  I was also shocked to see so many high-profile embassies en route.

Soon enough, I was at the Olympic Stadium, and I got my ticket and went inside.  I took some pictures from the track and then went up to the stands, where I took my ceremonial pictures.  I was home.  I found a spot about quarter of the way up the stands, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can run a stadion and then start exploring Athens.

“Dear Old Athena”

There was a reason I was willing to spend so much for this hotel room, and it was not just to relive some childhood memories.  It was for this view.  I can clearly see the Parthenon, the Ancient Greek temple dedicated to the goddess Athena, yes, the same Athena who lent her name to this city.  It is a marvelous view, even better than the sunset view I had when I wrote yesterday evening.  I will be heading out for dinner shortly, and I know not what the night will entail, though I want to make sure I leave here with a full charge on my phone.

I am sipping some complimentary house Greek red wine and smoking my Ardor as I stare off at the Acropolis.  I am in heaven.  This Ardor has been all around the world with me, and, at the end of the summer, I will smoke it in its home, Italy, but, tonight, I am smoking it here in Greece.  It has been an exhausting five hours since I closed at the 1896 Stadium, and I mean so physically more than anything else.

The first thing I did was go down onto the track and run the stadion, a 200-meter (approximately) race that would serve as the marquee event of the Ancient Games.  It is meant to be the length of the stadium, so the runners would run straight from one end to the other, rather than around the track.  Usain Bolt could it in 20 seconds.  I did it in 40, and it left me exhausted.  I got some water before I went to recreate my picture from 2004 that I took out front.

12 years apart, same picture, same person, same Stadium, yet both the Stadium and I look so different.  I then went to light up my Montecristo, which I planned would last all the way through the civic buildings at to the Acropolis.  I went to get my keychain, which is a cigar cutter, and it wasn’t in my pocket.  Ruh roh!  Did I leave it in the hotel, or did it fall out on the track?  I hoped it was the former.  I used a canine to poke a hole in the cigar and lit it up.

The first stop was the Presidential Palace, followed by the Prime Minister’s Palace.  I was soon at Parliament, which was far more mobbed than I expected, but all of Athens is just one big tourist trap.  I expect Rome will be likewise.  I went back up to my room to drop off my bags and souvenirs and give my phone a little more of a charge.  I knew it would be a tight bet if I’d have enough charge for the rest of the afternoon.  I meandered my way through the Plaka towards the Acropolis, trying to use as little battery as possible, and trying to avoid the souvenir shops, which proved futile.

I soon found myself on a street that must have had close to 50 souvenir shops over a few blocks.  I told myself I would not be buying anything until I was done with the Acropolis, and then I would only get a few things, the bare minimums, just one shop if possible.  I got a little lost, but I knew I was going the right direction: up.  I soon got to the Acropolis, and I was almost done with my cigar by the time I got to the entrance.

I wasn’t allowed to bring it in, anyway, so I took my ceremonial picture there.  I headed up more steps to the Parthenon, which was magnificent and slightly more restored than it was in 2004, I think.  I took some pictures of the building, and I decided I needed a picture with the cigar, even if it meant I’d have to leave right away.

I lit up another, different Montecristo, a slight break from protocol, and took my ceremonial picture before heading out.  On my way down, I was told that I needed to put out my cigar.  That was fine.  I relit it when I left the gates.  My phone was almost dead at this point.  I stopped at the first souvenir shop I saw and got everything I wanted.  I continued back to my hotel, finishing my cigar once I saw the Parliament.  I then went up to my room, and my phone was literally on 1% when I plugged into the charger.

I then relaxed a bit before I decided I’d have to write an entry with this view before it got dark.  I also inquired if the wine was complimentary.  It was.  I got set up with the wine and pipe a view, and I sat down on the couch, where I proceeded to light up my pipe and write this entry, which I will now close so that I can add some more to my personal entry before I head out again.  I thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon in dear old Athena, and I look forward to an even more enjoyable evening, whatever it may entail.

“Everywhere and Nowhere”

The Acropolis is lit, and so am I.  It has been an epic evening, and I am ready to go home in the morning.  My summer of travel has begun right.  Do I ever get lonely when I travel?  No, not really.  Maybe when I’m back at the hotel, and I’m in a different time zone, and those closest to me are asleep, or when I’m driving, then, yes, sometimes I get lonely, but, when I’m out and about, no, I never get lonely.  Why?

Because I’m everywhere and nowhere.  Never has that been more evident to me than tonight, and it was not until tonight that I was able to put it into words.  The parents and the daughter at the table next to me, I’m the brother.  The couple behind me, I’m the third wheel.  The group of college kids at another table, I’m part of that tour group.  Then, I’m not.  I’m everywhere and nowhere.  I listen to one conversation and then another and I observe one couple and then a group of friends, and then I leave without them ever realizing it.

I’m everywhere and nowhere.  I’m the mysterious stranger who spent an hour at the Olympic Stadium writing on his laptop.  I’m the person who sits in a corner while he sips his coffee and observes everyone else interacting.  I’m the person who walks around the group of straggling tourists.  Who I am?  As I jested in Rhodes, I’m no one.  And, when you’re no one, you can be everywhere and nowhere.  That is why I don’t get lonely.

After I closed this evening, I headed out to find the restaurant.  It was called Platanos Taverna, and I’m convinced we ate there in 2004.  The menu looked very familiar, too.  I wound up sitting down next to two parents and their daughter.  This family was possibly the most self-absorbed and arrogant family I had ever seen in my travels.  The father was one of the biggest assholes I ever encountered in my travels.  The mother and the daughter kept talking about these startups, and the mother talked about this free trip to Dubai she had gotten as part of a business venture that fell through.

I ordered what the waiter recommended, classical Greek specialties: spinach pie, roasted lamb, and, of course, ouzo.  Everything came out very quickly, and I lit up a Camacho after my first course.  Meanwhile, family went on yammering.  At one point, I thought I heard the word, “Scarsdale”, mentioned, but surely that couldn’t be right.  I am in Athens, one of the world’s foremost tourist destinations.  Surely, the family I had been eavesdropping on all night could not have been talking about Scarsdale.  That wasn’t possible.  Then I heard the word, “Rye”, no they must have been talking about rye whiskey.  Then, “Rye Playland”.  That was too much.  I had to interject.  “I’m sorry,” I asked, “Did you just say Scarsdale?”  The father gave me a very dirty look and said, “No.”  The daughter, however, gave me a sly look and contradicted him.  “That’s where I’m from,” I told them.  The mother said they were from “New York” and were making a joke about suburban housewives.  Lovely.  That’s why they wanted to joke about, people like my mother.  Did I mention how arrogant and stuck-up this family was?

It gets better.  The father was convinced that they had received a personal invite from the owner or chef and that the meal was meant to be on the house.  He expressed this when the check came.  The waiter did not understand and went to check with someone.  This caused a bit of a rift among the three of them.  Meanwhile, my lamb came, and I was enjoying this far more than my lamb, which was quite tasty.  The mother said that it was a small, family-owned restaurant and they should just pay it.  The daughter just wanted to get out of there.

The father said that he didn’t mind paying, just that he wanted his free meal if that was what his host had intended.  The mother said it was their last night here, and they should just pay it.  The father went inside to talk to the waiter, hoping to pay with his card and then perhaps have the charge voided later.  I knew the restaurant was cash only, so I eagerly anticipated him learning that.  He went to his wife and sharply asked for some cash.  He insisted they shouldn’t leave a tip because he was upset the meal wasn’t comped.  She insisted they leave 20%, clearly not understanding the Greek tipping system.  In the end, he left 10%.  Meanwhile, the daughter (about my age I’d guess) was playing with the smoke that was blowing from my cigar, the wind taking it directly to her.

Then there was discussion if they should take the remaining water with them.  They did not.  They left, and they were out of my life forever.  Did they comment to each other on the guy smoking the cigar at the next table over?  I know not.  I asked for a Greek coffee, which they did not have, so I opted for a glass of ouzo instead and turned my focus to the tour group of college kids at the other side of the restaurant.  I was everywhere and nowhere.

I made my way to a coffee shop, my cigar done by this point, and I sat outside and ordered a Greek coffee.  I lit up an Avo.  I ordered a second round before deciding it was time to head back to the hotel.  On the way, I stopped at another coffee shop for a third coffee.  I’m positively addicted.  I was soon back at my hotel, and sat down on the couch, in view of the Acropolis, lit up an Ardor, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish, pack, and get to sleep.  I’ll do the reflective entry tomorrow.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Day 2 - The Last Wonder (Goal 4/17 Complete)

5/30/16, “The Last Wonder” (Goal 4/17 Complete)

Rhodes, Greece

I’m sure my readers have all heard of the “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World”, even if they cannot list all seven or where they are.  The seven are the the Temple of Artemis and the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus in Turkey, the Lighthouse of Alexandria and the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt, the Statue of Zeus at Olympia and the Colossus of Rhodes in Greece, and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.  But, see, the funny thing about those seven wonders, only six of them actually ever existed.  Now, here at Rhodes, I can say that I have visited the sites of all the Wonders of the Ancient World, all six of them.  It is fitting that I finish this quest in the same country I visited the first one 12 years ago.

I visited the ones in Turkey in January 2014 the ones in Egypt in November 2015.  As I grew more and more concerned about the security situation in Iraq and wondered how I would visit Ancient Babylonia, I continued to do my research.  I learned that, more likely than not, the Hanging Gardens were apocryphal.  There was no first-hand account of them ever existing, only two second-hand accounts.  In other words, Herodotus never saw them himself.  There is no archaeological evidence of it having existed.

The Pyramid is still standing, the other five all have archaeological evidence of the exact site.  I even sat (and wrote) among the stones of the two in Turkey, and the stones of the Lighthouse of Alexandria were repurposed to make a citadel of some sort.  Here, this view, those two columns on either side, it’s exactly where the legs of the Colossus of Rhodes once stood.  No such evidence exists for the Hanging Gardens, not to mention the improbability of it having been technologically possible.

Just think about it, a hanging gardens, with flowing water, in the heart of the dessert.  That literally sounds like the stuff of legends.  It is with that conclusion that I edited my checklist from having seven Wonders of the Ancient World, to only having six.  Here, in Rhodes, I can say I have been to all six and check off a 4^th Goal from the list.  Goal 4/17 Complete.  I expect to be able to check off another Goal in Rome, and 3 more in Australia, which will leave 9 remaining for 2017, 5 of which I will wait for my 30^th Birthday trip.  I am entering the home stretch of this quest, and it feels good.  Really good.

After I closed last night, I was soon asleep, waking up, as always, before my alarm went off.  I got ready and headed down for breakfast, which was a respectable spread of hot and cold choices.  I then took a taxi to the airport, an airport that put LaGuardia to shame, as did the efficacy of their security process.  Sorry, I want to go back a bit.  I am watching a boat pass out of the harbor, and I can only imagine what it was like during Hellenic times for a boat, after making a long journey to Rhodes, to see that Colossus in the distance and realize he had arrived at Rhodes, and then to pass under the great Colossus and feel the might that was the city of Rhodes.  It must have been something truly special.

Anyway, I picked up cigars and headed to my gate.  I then inquired about a smoking area.  He pointed to a door that led to a booth.  Perfect.  I had about 45 minutes before boarding would begin, and the smoking booth was in view of the gate.  I figured 45 minutes would be plenty for a quick cigar and then to head to my gate.  The booth reeked.  Even I had trouble tolerating the smell until I had my own cigar lit up.  I opted for a Montecristo, and I enjoyed it until about 9:10 AM.  The flight was at 9:55 AM.  I was starting to feel uneasy, so I soon ditched the cigar.

I went to walk back through that door to my gate, only to be told it was a one-way passage.  Ummm.  I had to loop all the back around through the airport and proceed through security again.  Ummm.  Now, I was in serious danger of missing my flight.  I made it back to the gate just as boarding began, and I was one of the first on the bus to the plane.  As I saw the array of small, twin-engine propeller planes, I remembered why exactly we didn’t go in 2004.  The flight was short, uncomfortable, and unadventurous.

When I got to the airport, I was shocked by two things.  First, I was shocked by the number of international destinations that were serviced, including Stockholm and Hamburg.  The idea of someone taking a direct flight from Stockholm to Rhodes was shocking.  When I got outside, I was shocked by the number of tour bus groups, and I dreaded the worse.  I would later learn that the beaches were a more popular draw for the throngs of tourists than two columns where a Wonder of the Ancient World once stood.  That was fine by me.  I would not be visiting the beach today.

I took a taxi to my hotel, and the check-in was much smoother than yesterday.  The room was small and second-rate, reminding me much of the rooms I have stayed at in various Caribbean capitals, not to mention how cheap the room was.  The location could not be beat, and I had no interest in staying at a beachfront resort.  I napped for a couple of hours and then headed out.  I lit up a Romeo y Julieta, took my ceremonial pictures with the site behind me, and announced, “Goal 4/17 Complete.  All Wonders of the Ancient World”.

In case my readers have not realized now, those 17 goals, and the five years from 2012 to 2017 are the meaning behind the title of my blog.  There were benches in view of the site, so I sat down at one of them, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can explore the medieval section of Rhodes, which is a WHS, and get some souvenirs and food.

“Valar Morghulis”

The sun is setting over the mountains as viewed from the western coast of Rhodes, just as it is setting on my time here in Rhodes.  It has been an all-around amazing day, and I truly love this little island.  Until today, I never really understood the draw of the Greek Isles.  To me, it was about the cultural heritage, or even just my love of the movie “Mamma Mia!”  I knew about Rhodes, and I know the legends of Crete and other islands.  What about places like Corfu, though?  Well, even before I landed in Rhodes, seeing the section for Corfu in the in-flight magazine changed my mind.  Now, having visited Rhodes, my mind is firmly made up.  The Greek Isles have a tremendous draw, of the level that live up to all the hype, and more.  And I haven’t even set foot on the beach.

After I closed, I went out in search of souvenirs.  It was not long before I found the heart of the tourist jam, with lots and lots of souvenir shops.  I soon found replicas of the Colossus, and I had to stifle my exclamation of joy.  Before we left for Greece in 2004, my father gave me a large Euro banknote.  The value of it is still a lot to me today, so it must have been a fortune to me when I was 16.  He cautioned me not to spend it all at the first souvenir shop I found, instead waiting until I found something really special, and I did.

It was in Olympia, after we saw the site of the Zeus of Olympia, another wonder of the world.  More than anything, I wanted a small bronze replica of the statue, and I found it.  The price was very high, and my mother thought it was overpriced, but that was it, the one souvenir I wanted more than anything else, and it was perfect.  We were halfway through the trip by then, but I still had that banknote.  I told my mother that this was the one special thing that meant so much to me, and that’s what I bought.  It has been displayed prominently in the same spot in the office at my parents’ house for 12 years now, and it has been joined by replicas from the other four Wonder of the Ancient World.  When I am home next weekend, it will be joined by this replica of the Colossus of Rhodes.  It will be a unique display possibly unlike any other in the world.

Behind it are other replicas from that trip, which I’m not sure how I bought.  Perhaps I had some allowance money saved, or my parents gave me a special allowance for the trip, or they approved what they felt were reasonable purchases.  Whatever it was, I filled up an entire suitcase with those replicas, carefully wrapped up in towels from the Athens Plaza, the hotel we stayed at the last night.  I still have those towels, and I will be staying there again tomorrow night.  When I went to Turkey, I added a few more replicas, and I suppose I will add another from this trip.

There is a strict protocol for souvenir shopping like this.  If I want a replica of a site, I start at the souvenir shop closest to the site and keep going to the next ones further away until I have everything I want.  At the first shop, I got some replicas, but not the bronze one I wanted, and gifts for people back home.  The entire total of everything I got, in Euros, was almost exactly the same as I paid for that one replica in 2004.  He individually wrapped each item, so I wrote the name of the recipient on each one as he did it, and then he put each one it its own individual plastic bag.  I got a replica of the medieval Rhodes at another shop, and then I went to the shop that had the bronze replicas.  I got a big one and a medium sized one, along with some keychains and a t-shirt.

I was then starving, and there were a bunch of adjoining outdoor cafes.  I found one that looked nice and asked how long for some souvlaki.  Ten minutes.  Perfect.  My hotel was literally two minutes away, so I placed my order and told him I’d be right back.  I dropped off my bags and got some cigars for part two of the day: medieval Rhodes.  The souvlaki came out a few minutes after I got back, and it was great.  I lit up a Juan Lopez and headed to medieval Rhodes.

I found a Plaque, but it was right next to a menu of all things.  I then walked along the medieval fortifications, and I could hear the theme from Game of Thrones playing in my head.  They had some reenactments going on, and I made my way all the way along the fortifications.  It was time to head back, and I wanted to go to the building, the Palace of the Grand Master, which I figured would serve as the inspiration for the House of Black and White (the temple of the Faceless Men from Game of Thrones).  One of the costumed performers guided me there.

It was exactly what I expected, and as I got there, I said, as I had been saying all afternoon, the famous words: “Valar Morghulis”.  There was also a better Plaque there.  Walking in, I repeated it again, “Valar Morghulis.”  I had finished my cigar by that point, so I spent some time inside before heading back to the hotel, picking up some souvenirs on the way, including a coin to honor the famous iron coin of the Faceless Men.

I took a short nap at the hotel before heading back out for sunrise, lighting up a Cohiba on the way.   The sunrise was magnificent, and I found a nice bench, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my cigar and head out to dinner.  I’m hoping to get to sleep early tonight so that I can wake up for Game of Thrones at 4 AM.

I suppose there’s not much left to write for today.  After I closed on the west side, I made my way back to the hotel and got ready to head to the restaurant after I charged my phone for a bit.  The name of the restaurant was Hermes, like my hotel, and it was ranked number one on Tripadvisor.  It was an 11-minute walk, mostly along the water, but there was a bit of labyrinth to traverse inside the medieval town, made easy with Google Maps guiding me.

I got to the spot shown on the map, but I could find it.  I asked where it was, and a woman from across the street said it was her restaurant.  She asked where I was recommended from.  I told her Tripadvisor, that they were ranked number one.  She seemed to have no idea.  That was odd.  I sat down and picked out some Rhodian specialties, including a local brandy called tsipouro.  To eat, I got pitaroudia (chickpea “meatballs) and kapamas (lamb and rice cooked in a clay plot).  It was all so delicious, and the restaurant was populated by British tourists, including the most charming gay couple, who had the hostess in stiches.

It was way too much to eat and drink, and, when they brought the kapamas, it was far more rice than lamb, so I just picked out all the meat, leaving most of the rice, not wanting to eat the carbs.  While I ate, I smoked a La Aroma de Cuba, which perfectly complemented the meal.  I asked for my check and, when I came back, the manager came over, concerned that I hadn’t finished my meal.  I told him it was just too much rice.  They brought me a free dessert to make up for it.  Great, more carbs.  I had a few bites as I paid my check.  I saw the name of the restaurant was Romios, not Hermes.  Huhhh?

I asked if they changed their name.  They were convinced I was a writer for Tripadvisor.  Oh, so that’s why they treated me so well.  Maybe I should try that trick again.  Well, it turned out that Hermes was a grillhouse, much like the place I got lunch.  Satisfied that I made the right choice, I walked back to the hotel.  I went up to my room and sat on the balcony, where I finished my cigar and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get publish and get to sleep before waking up in four hours to watch Game of Thrones with my mother.  Tomorrow, back to the Athens to see the 1896 Stadium and Parthenon again.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Day 1 - Athens 2004

5/28/16, “Athens 2004”

Athens, Greece

I’m home.  No, I’m not at my apartment in Manhattan.  I’m not at my parents’ house in Scarsdale.  I’m home.  I did it.  I found my way into the Athens 2004 Olympic Stadium.  The main purpose of this trip.  “There’s always a way in,” I kept telling myself, and there was one.  I’m home.  Of all the 26 Olympic Stadiums, this one, perhaps, means the most.  I saw it being built in 2004.  I practiced all the events in Scarsdale.  I watched every event I could.  The Olympics had come home, and, now, so have I.  I’m home.  There’s no other word to describe it.

How long I will be able to stay before I get kicked out, I have no idea, but, for now, I’m home.  This was the main purpose of the trip.  I am staying at a hotel less than a mile away.  I was prepared to do almost anything necessary to get inside this Stadium, and I had planned it to be an all-day event.  It took me thirty minutes from the time I left the hotel to get inside.  Now, I’m home.  No Olympics meant more to me than the 2004 Games.  The security guard who let me in to take a photo for “just one minute” has no idea how much this means to me.  No one, not even my readers can fully comprehend just how much this means to me.  There is only one person in the world who does: my mother.  It is 7 AM on the East Coast of the United States, 4 AM on the Pacific Coast, so there is no one I can call to share my joy.  Instead, I will write this entry for as long as I’m allowed.  Actually, I think I have to leave now, so I’ll finish outside.

I am calling this trip “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in honor of the ballet we saw on Wednesday, based on the Shakespearean play set in Athens.  However, “A Comedy of Errors” would be a more fitting title for today.  Before I address the comedy of errors that was my check-in at the hotel and the journey from EWR to ATH, I will tease out a little more of the adventure that was got me inside the Stadium.  A year ago this very day, I snuck into the Stockholm 1912 Stadium, where King Gustav so famously called Jim Thorpe the greatest athlete in the world.  I will excerpt a passage from that entry: “It was not the first Olympic Stadium I’ve snuck into, and it might not be the last, either (Melbourne, Athens, I’m talking about you).”

The Melbource Cricket Ground is actually open to the public, but the Athens stadium not so much, and the Rome 1960 Stadium not so much either.  When I took my ceremonial picture inside the Stadium, I announced, “Rome, I’m looking at you.”  There’s always a way in.  This was the most challenging, since, as far as I knew, it was completely out of use.  I was not willing to risk being arrested to sneak in, but anything short of that was fair game.  It turns out that they are in the process of repurposing it to serve as a football stadium, which meant that there was some staff on-site, much like how I entered the Seoul 1988 Stadium.

As I wandered the perimeter, much as I did in Seoul, I considered my options.  The outer fence was easy enough to climb, but the adjoining park had people walking around.  Even if I managed to climb the outer fence, the inner fence looked impenetrable.  I continued walking, looking for a way in, any way in.  That is where I will leave the adventure and return to it in its proper chronological order after I light up another cigar, the very cigar I had brought for this celebratory occasion.

Okay, so what happened after I closed at Newark and published my entry?  My co-worker was also flying out of Newark out around the same time, so I tried to find him at his gate.  No luck.  I got back to my gate at the time they were supposed to start boarding, only to hear a final boarding announcement.  Huhhh???  Well, I got on the plane and got situated.  The in-flight movie selection was pretty great, and I opted for “The Lady in the Van”, for which Maggie Smith was nominated for a Golden Globe.  The movie was kind of boring and we were still on the ground an hour past our scheduled take-off time.  I was almost done with the movie by the time we were in the air.  I was also regretting not finishing my lunch, as I was absolutely starving.

For round two, I opted for the 1980s classic, “The Breakfast Club”.   They served dinner during that movie, some kind of teriyaki chicken.  The movie was amazing, and, after I was done, I messaged my friend, debating if John Hughes needed to be considered the GOAT (Greatest of All Time).  We agreed that he was the GOAT for teen/kids/family comedies, and the greatest comedic director of the past 70 years.  That’s high praise.  I then went to sleep, waking up when they served breakfast, which was a croissant with jam.  I was starving, but it was pure carbs, so I took a pass.

We soon landed.  As always, Schengen border control was lax for me with my American passport.  They just swiped it and stamped it, no questions.  There wasn’t even an agent at customs.  I took a taxi to the hotel, and I could see the structure from the Olympic Stadium from the lobby.  They even had the Olympic Rings on the wall.  I was home.  I just needed to change and head to the Stadium.

My room wasn’t ready yet.  It was 11:50 AM, but they said it would be ready in 40 minutes.  That was when the comedy of errors began.  I was starving, so I figured some coffee and food would kill the 40 minutes.  I got two cups of Greek coffee and a cold cuts platter.  That did the trick.  It was 12:30 PM when I was done, the 40 minutes had passed.  Of course, my room was not ready, and they apologized profusely.  They said 15 more minutes.  Well, 15 minutes later, it was not ready.  Now, I was angry.  If they had told me an hour from the beginning, I might have just changed in the bathroom and headed out.

I asked, very firmly, honestly, how much longer it would be.  15 more minutes.  I waited until they called me.  It was about 10 minutes.  They pulled out my file.  It was the wrong name.  Embarrassed and confused, they realized their mistake.  Perhaps my actual room had been ready on time, and it was this other room that was not ready?  Then there was paperwork to fill out.  Seriously?!?  I had told them that I was in a hurry, why could I not have filled out this paperwork while we were waiting for the room!?!  I went up to the room they assigned me, only to find someone else’s suitcase was there.

I called downstairs, and they upgraded me to another room, which had a better view of the Olympic Stadium.  Okay, that was good, one problem, though.  This was not a smoking room.  She told me to just open the windows, and she’d bring me an ashtray.  Okay then.  I changed and got ready to head out, for whatever adventure this entailed.  I lit up a Padron Damaso, and it was a bit of a maze to find the Stadium, but I was there in about 15 minutes.

There was a park, if I could call it that, outside the Stadium, where people walk and bike, which limited my options.  The “park” was all rundown and there was precious little grass, most of it dead.  I expected this.  I had done my homework.  I did not, however, know how I would be able to get inside, but, “There’s always a way in,” I reassured myself.  I left off earlier, describing how I was contemplating every fence, looking for an unlocked gate.

I kept walking, and, halfway around, I saw some maintenance equipment, and there was a garage gate that was ajar next to a fenced door.  That looked promising.  It was all locked.  I then heard someone yelling at me, a maintenance worker in a golf cart.  He looked like the kind of person I could bribe to let me in, if he spoke English.  He did not.  He gestured for me to leave.  I kept walking, not away from the Stadium, but alongside it.  I then found an open door that led straight to the inside of the Stadium.  I left my cigar outside and walked in.

I was approached by someone from facilities.  He spoke English.  I didn’t even have to offer a bribe.  I just asked if I could take a picture “just for one minute”.  I told him I had come all the way from New York for this.  He let me in.  I walked in.  I was home.  I took my ceremonial pictures and got ready to leave.

Wait, why did I have to leave?  Until and unless he chased me out, I was home.  I sat in the stands and proceeded to write my entry.  Eventually, the guy from the golf cart came and chased me out.  He talked to the guy who let me in, who said something about me wanting to take a picture.  I was clearly no longer just taking a picture.  I retrieved my cigar just kept walking, until I got to the other side of the Stadium, the public park area.

I uploaded my photos and sat down on some kind of planter/bench hybrid, where I proceeded to write this entry, lighting up an El Rey del Mundo cigar, truly feeling like the king of the world.  I will now head back to the hotel so that I can take a nap before my evening activities, whatever they may be.  Maybe I’ll find a cigar shop on the way back to the hotel.  On that note, I’ll close so that I can get out of here.

There are far too many similarities between today’s entry and the one I wrote from Stockholm a year ago today.  After I closed from the 1912 Stadium in Stockholm, I went out to dinner for some local cuisine and then went back to my hotel.  That was what I did today, in Athens.  In Stockholm, I had some sightseeing to do, but, here in Athens, I used that time to take a nap instead.  I headed back to my hotel with remainder of my cigar, taking my nap as almost as soon as I finished the cigar.

After my nap, I worked on picking out a restaurant, opting for a nice Greek restaurant about a mile away.  I went to the front desk and asked that they inquire about the dress code and if there was a smoking section available.  The questions turned out to be moot, as the restaurant was fully booked for a wedding party.  After some back and forth, he recommended a nice restaurant called Arismari, so I got my water bottle, lit up a Cabaiguan and walked to the restaurant, noting how rundown the whole city was.

I was about halfway done with my cigar when I got there and I had another cigar in my pocket.  I looked at Arismari, and there was not a single diner in the restaurant.  Directly across the street was a taverna called Iordanis, which was positively lit.  I looked it up, and it turned out it was the oldest tavern in Chalandri, dating back to 1928.  It had great reviews.  I went there instead.  I had been planning an epic evening for myself, trying to recreate the evening from 2004 in Greece, the first time I ever got drunk.

The evening was certainly epic, but it didn’t play out the way I expected.  The taverna was such a charming place, that I didn’t want to leave.  I just wanted to spend the whole night there, soaking it all in, and that’s exactly what happened.  I ordered three dishes, which came out as three courses: baked cheese, fried calamari, and house sausage.  Each course was better than the last.  To drink, I ordered a Coca Cola Light and an ouzo that was priced at less than I would pay for one drink at my favorite Greek restaurant by my office, the place I commonly frequent with my grandfather.

It turned out that it wasn’t one shot of ouzo, instead it was a 200 mL bottle, the equivalent of four shots.  Yes, the fact that I had to drink four shots of ouzo contributed to why I wound up spending three hours at that taverna, but I was happy the way it turned out.  I finished my cigar with my third course, and I lit up a VSG as I nursed the rest of my ouzo.  At no point did they come to clear away my plates, which irked me very much.  Reader, if you have done the calculation, you will realize that they left the dirty plates on the table for over an hour as I smoked my VSG and drank my ouzo.

After I finished my cigar, I asked for three things: a Greek coffee, the check, and a taxi to my hotel.  If I had had a third cigar on me, I might have walked back, but I did not.  When the coffee came, I poured the rest of my ouzo into the cup, which was an interesting combination.  He brought the check and gave me a 20% discount for being so slow to clear the plates and ask if I wanted coffee.  That was very generous.

I took the taxi back to the hotel and moved the seat in view of the Olympic Stadium from the window, I lit up an Ardor, and sat down, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and get to sleep.  I have to be up early tomorrow morning to catch my flight to Rhodes.  Today was a booming success, and tomorrow, I get to check another one of my 17 Goals off from my list.