Elise & Paul + 3: Greece, Part One

The trip to Greece was long. Because flights from Amman to Athens were three times the cost as flights from Tel Aviv, we decided to drive over the border and fly from there.

It was the kids first trip into Palestine and Israel. Clearly evidenced by the thousand questions they had along the way. They were simultaneously both clearly confounded and immensely intrigued by the entire concept of borders. As we cross more and more of them, I understand where their questions come from. Especially as we drove over the teeny, almost one-way, rickety King Hussein Bridge at the western border of Jordan and hang, as we slowly roll over wooden planks and a dry, tumbleweed-infested culvert between two countries, in literal no-man’s land.

Our flight didn’t take off until 8:00 at night, so we even had time to stop in Jerusalem to see some of the Old City. Though Peter was less than impressed. A walk from the Jaffa Gate to a perch overlooking the Western Wall just about put him over the edge (though Elise correctly surmised he may have simply been overwhelmed by the crowds and tight quarters). I ended up carrying him through most of the Jewish Quarter before he regained his sea legs.

We landed in Athens late and didn’t arrive at our rental apartment in the heart of Plaka at the foot of the Acropolis until almost midnight.

Nevertheless, we hit the ground running the next morning. The forecast was for wind. And more wind. And gale-force gusts. Our driver from the airport, John, told us the wind was a new phenomenon, just sprung up in the last two years. I don’t exactly know how or why it would become more windy in two years time. But he said it with such authority neither Elise or I thought to question him.

But the weather was cool. Not quite cold. And at least it was sunny.

The Acropolis was a stone’s-throw from our apartment. Or rather, more accurately, our apartment was a stone’s-throw from the Acropolis, literally in its shadow. We stopped for breakfast at a street side cafe near the Metro station for flaky pies (phyllo dough?) filled with cheese and/or ham, spinach, tomatoes, etc. Yum. And, of course, coffee.

We found out later it was too windy for the cruise ships to port in Piraeus, but you never would have known from the crowds being blown about the top of the Acropolis.

We would have many of the Greek bagels, large, sesame seed-covered rings seen here, over the course of our five days in Greece.

Eventually, we made it to the top and entered through the Propylaea, the principal entrance to the site.

Clementine hanging on for dear life.

We didn’t last long on top of the Acropolis for fear of being blown from the top.

We weaved our way back down from the top through the masses on to our next stop, the Acropolis Museum.

All the statues, pots, and friezes that fell off the Parthenon over time were collected and housed in a museum at the base of the Acropolis.

Photos were mostly discouraged in the various galleries but I did get this impressive snap of a column.

The kids’ favorite exhibit was a Lego scale-model replica of the entire Acropolis (including a mini-figure Indiana Jones exploring a cave). Elise and I sat on two wooden benches nearby, resting our legs while the kind day took in the sight, mentally taking it apart piece by piece so they could reconstruct it at home. As we sat there, both Elise and I felt our seats sway.

I didn’t think anything of it, chalking it up to the wind, comparing the feeling to the same sensation you sometimes get in parking garages or department stores when you feel the floor plate hiccup. Elise — being from the Pacific Northwest— knew exactly what she felt the moment she felt it and me saying it was the win wasn’t going to disavow her of this innate, native-born instinct, cultivated on the Pacific rim alongside an affinity for rain, moss, and dark coffee.

Sure enough, the next day, she showed me the news. At 12:48 p.m., a 5.3 magnitude earthquake struck Galaxidi, shaking half of Greece.

She tells me she didn’t get nervous. I believe her, because she let it go at me telling her it was the wind, even though she wasn’t convinced. She told me she knew she was in the safest place in Greece. I mean, they wouldn’t put incalculably valuable, ancient artifacts in a building that would shake apart easily.