Few visitors to Greece stick with just Athens on their travels here. Indeed, I read somewhere that the islands are a far more popular destination overall, the Athenian Acropolis and antiquities notwithstanding. And so I was tempted to swing south with Snowdrop as well. Not by boat (too long), but perhaps by taking one of those quick flights that puts you on any one of the islands that are so much the beauty spots of the Aegean Sea.
On the other hand, just coming to Greece keeps you on board airplanes long enough. Then, too, there's the off off season: we are still in it and everything beachy is pretty much shut down at least until April and more likely until May. The waters are too cool, the pools stand empty, the donkeys are at their farms, the windmills are resting idle.
But staying in Athens for our full five day Greek visit is not the greatest idea on the planet. We've had a splendid set of days here. Yes, there are the museums, yes, any number of visitor spots left to explore, but even before we came here, I hesitated about sticking to the original plan of just staying put in Athens, with all its chaos and clutter. (You can tell I'm not really a city person these days.) Too much.
So in the last weeks before coming here I shuffled things around and booked us two nights by the sea.
Athens is itself technically by the sea. You can sea that body of water from the top of any hill. But the city grew away from it, developing as it did around that monument to the deities, the Acropolis. And the interesting part of the shoreline (from a visitor's perspective) stretches further south, calling itself the Athenian Riviera, though we know how silly that designation can be -- witness the Neapolitan Riviera!
Our day today then is divided into two parts -- a morning in Athens and after, we take a quick (40 minute) car trip to a place by the sea, a slip of land that juts out into the waters right from Astir Beach. (The hotel is indeed called the Astir Palace and it is one of the very few that do a business year round.)
The morning begins with a check on things as viewed from the balcony. There is still some sunshine, but the temps will drop today by ten degrees and then another ten tomorrow as a cold front sweeps through the region. Unfortunate perhaps, given our seaside plans, but not really a tragic weather report. I mean, no floods, no snowstorm! And still, plenty of sunshine for most of our days here.
(she is up, but she is still sleepy!)
Breakfast upstairs, but inside.
Back in the room, I finish packing (that's the downside of moving around, especially if you're with a child and keeping it to two small carryons, where half of the stuff is clean and the other half now -- not so much) and now we are ready to set out.
But where to?
We could go to the Archeological Museums (Snowdrop likes museums quite a bit). Or the Museum of Cycladic Art. Or we could visit the Olympic Stadium. Or we could simply go to the park. We weigh all this over breakfast and finally settle on the park. One needs a balance in life!
The park is a splendid oasis of green and of relative quiet, but it's not large. There was a promise of a mini zoo and Snowdrop loves animals, but we had to stay content here with turtles...
... with a few goats, with ducks and geese. Oh, and roosters. In other words, we saw it all in five minutes and still had time. I suggest we walk over to the Panathenaic Stadium and as always, she is enthusiastic.
(along the way: the ubiquitous Greek guards...
(and the ubiquitous orange trees...)
Several things to note about the stadium: it was first built in 566 BCE, and rebuilt in 144 CE, made then entirely of marble.
The first modern Olympics were held here in 1896. And you too can have your moment of glory by running the course of the Olympians!
And standing on the winners' medal podium. (We raced: she came in first, I took the silver.)
(Walking back, past the many fountains of Syntagma Square...)
And now it's time for lunch. I'd picked a place in the Plaka, but it appears to be closed. Snowdrop meekly suggests an alternative: we're close to last night's dinner place, right? Can't we just go there?
We can, and it is wonderful: she meekly asks for lamb chops once again, along with a dish of pasta. I add a plate of wilted Greek greens.
True, it is getting to be quite cool and the wind is significant. Nonetheless, it's a lovely place to end our Athenian adventure. Oh, with baklava for dessert (Snowdrop is not 100 percent convinced that it can be the most awesome pastry on the planet.)
We walk back at a leisurely pace, pausing at souvenir shops for stupid things that will probably be pushed to the back of the shelf back home (a small stuffed kitty? really?), and pausing too for her last ice cream cone at Le Greche.
And then we catch our ride to the coast.
A room with a different sort of view now:
It rains a tiny bit, but the clouds never seem threatening and though the air remains cool, we know that there will be sunshine soon.
We walk the grounds of our hotel.
In many ways, it's not the place for us. Yes, I have in my life spent more on a room (though not very often!), but only because here, we are paying rockbottom prices. You could go up to ten times our amount in the more spacious rooms or villas with private pools not visible to the casual passerby. In other words, it's not the kind of place I'd normally pick for a Greek getaway. But at the same time, everyone is extremely nice to Snowdrop and the physical facilities (namely the pools!) are just incredibly beautiful. In nicer weather, kids would have a ball just splashing in the water.
What's uncomfortable is knowing that the client base here is likely not the farmette crowd that raises six chickens, feeds stray cats, and cleans their own toilet. (Just one toilet.) And a leaking shower that still hasn't been fixed. And one who, once checked into the room, takes out a child's dirty laundry, hand washes it in the sink and hangs it over the lovely little bathtub to dry.
No matter. We love the colors of the Aegean!
And in the evening, since Snowdrop is about to collapse from the excesses of travel, we eat at the informal Italian restaurant at the hotel. She orders pasta, I order a chunk of fish and the sunset behind the scant clouds is magnificent.
Tomorrow the cold snap will continue. We wont do much. The girl needs to recover. Our last day in Greece will be very very laidback.
And as I listen to the wind outside and I look up at the sky soon to be filled with stars, I think about another granddaughter, an older sister, a girl that has grown to be such a smart, talented, and loving person -- Primrose, who turns five on this day. I was traveling when she was born, I'm traveling now. Some things never change... Happy happy birthday little one!
With so much love...
