“The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.”
Lord Byron, “The Isles of Greece”
One past May, my husband and I landed on the island of Rhodes, Greece. We spent a wonderful two weeks, enjoying the sun, the many beaches, the mountains, the history and culture, and celebrating a wedding anniversary. However, some moments are memorable for other reasons.
The baggage claim at Rhodes’ tiny airport had 2 exits - right for EU residents and left for non-EU. We went left (the only ones as far as we could see) and ended up in the same place as the others. (The non-EU door had a McDonald's ad above it.)
The really amusing part came after that. We had reserved a car online directly through the airport. The confirmation said that it was affiliated with Olympic car rentals, a company based in Dublin, Ireland, and called Argus Car Hire. We found the Hertz, Avis, Budget, etc. desks, but no Argus or Olympic. When we asked, we were told to look for a guy holding a sign in the arrivals area - no luck. Finally, one of the guys holding a sign of some sort said he had seen our rep, and he took us to look for him. We found a harassed-looking Greek man in a corner surrounded by 2 UK groups. He told us "5 minutes" which became close to half an hour. One group consisted of three angry men. They had ordered a Fiat Doblo van and it wasn't available. (They had women and children waiting nearby so they needed a large vehicle.) The rep tried to explain that a customer had gotten into a fender bender the day before, and the van needed some repairs. He offered them 2 cars until he could deliver the repaired van to their hotel. They weren't budging. The second group had two women and one man and their transaction was uncomplicated but seemed to take forever because of the interruptions from the other group who had called the home office and wanted the rep to talk to them. (He finally did and said something like, do you want me to make one?) Anyway, by the time it was our turn, the poor guy needed to vent and he told us his tale of woe, but our transaction went pretty fast and was congenial. As we walked outside to our car, the first group was still fuming. We shook hands with the rep, said, "Efkaristo”, got into our cute tiny Hyundai Atos, and prepared to drive off. But, the key was missing! Our guy made a quick cell phone call, and the key was delivered within minutes.
On our first full day on the island, we drove to Rhodes Town to find a bank machine. (We were out of Euros). However, we needed Euro coins to park - catch 22! We found a spot and my husband stayed in the car while I went in search of either an ATM or an exchange. The Bank of Greece, a large imposing building, had an exchange but no ATM. I asked for coins for parking, and the teller gave me some but not as many as I wanted. I hustled back to the parking area, and put my coins in the machine to retrieve my time-stamped ticket. We put the ticket in the car window and headed in search of an ATM. I put in my bank card and followed the directions, but no cash came out. We went inside with the card and explained. The teller asked what option we chose – checking. He said we needed to choose credit. We went back outside, tried credit with a Visa card, and it still didn't work. We went to another ATM and tried both cards to no avail. We went inside, and one of the employees came out to help. It was then that the lightbulb dawned - I had been using the three-digit number on the back, instead of my four-digit pin. My face was red but we did get our cash.
In the evening, we had dinner at the Napoli Restaurant owned by the man who managed our rental apartment in Ixia. It did serve Greek food, despite the Italian name. My husband got to speak the rusty Polish of his childhood when we learned that Alessandra, who had given us the apartment key and was our waitress, was Polish from the town of Katowice. She spent summers in Rhodes and winters in Poland.
The next evening, we stopped at Phillip's Bar near our apartment for a beer and the free Wifi. My husband kidded the owner about having an English-sounding name and said he should use something like “Zorba." He told us that Zorba was actually Turkish and that he was named after Phillip of Macedonia, adding that Macedonia was definitely Greek. (Don't tell that to the Macedonians who continually fight for independence.)
The next morning didn’t seem like a beach day, so we headed inland. Driving was sometimes a challenge because many of the signs were in Greek lettering, depending on your direction. Several times, we guessed at a turn because we remembered seeing a translated sign when coming in the opposite direction! We made a little headway with the Greek script learning that the letter "P" has an "R" sound, a backward "E" sounds like "Z", and an upside-down "U " that is squared, sounds like "P". It was still hard to read signs that weren't translated though.
Of particular interest in the old section of Rhodes Town was the Street of the Knights, lined with 15th-century hospitality buildings. Knights of various nationalities, e.g. Spanish, Italian, French) were able to host visitors of the same language for lodging, discussion, etc.
The Knights of St. John helped the Greeks defend Rhodes Town from the Saracens and the Turks. When the Turks won victory in the 16th century, despite losing hundreds of thousands of soldiers, the knights departed for Crete. (They eventually ended up in Malta.) The Italians invaded during World War II, but when the Allies won, the Dodecanese islands (including Rhodes) were given back to Greece.
One day we drove to the acropolis of Ialyssos. Lots of peacocks were running around free. It also had an interesting mixture of buildings and ruins, including the remains of a 4th-century BC Christian baptistry and remnants of a 2nd-century BC Palace of Athena. On the edge of the cliff was a Byzantine fortress, and the centerpiece was a lovely Greek monastery with a courtyard from the 15th century AD. A shaded walk with Italian stations of the cross led to a giant cement cross overlooking a valley. It had a staircase inside and my husband hiked up to stand on the horizontal part of the cross.
People-watching at Tsampikos Beach was interesting. A guy on a beach lounge had quite a few tattoos, including WINGS on his shoulder blades! My bikini fit right in. Hardly anyone wore a one-piece -unless it was a bikini bottom. On the way home, we picked up some Tyrrell's Hand Cooked Potato Chips with sea salt and vinegar at Eurospar. To assuage guilt, the British added this note to the bag: "Our chips can be eaten as part of a healthy common-sense diet along with plenty of broccoli and lots of exercise."
Another morning, we caught a ferry to the island of Symi. The first stop was at the tiny port of Panormici. We headed for a building with a beautifully painted tower. At the doorway, it was determined that I was “indecently" dressed, along with many of the other women and girls. (I had on almost knee-length cargo shorts and a t-shirt.) I had to don a complimentary wrap-around skirt to enter. (Men weren't bothered, even those wearing short shorts.) The building contained two museums and a Greek Orthodox chapel. The latter was the reason for the decency requirements. It had a revered icon of Michael the Archangel, patron of the island.
The tallest peak on Rhodes is Mt. Attavyros (about 3,600 ft.) and my husband had been eyeing it since we arrived. Locals told us there were hiking paths on the less-steep eastern side, so we headed there. As we got close, we came to a tiny monastery, and my husband stopped to photograph it. He went inside and came back out with some hard candy from the orthodox priest and reported that the priest made him wear a wrap-around skirt to cover his shorts while he was inside! He also learned that it was a 4-5 hour hike to the top of the mountain.
We began hiking up a road across from the monastery. It led us to a farm building where we found a goat path that continued upward. It was littered with goat poop , so a goat path in the literal sense. We also came across a goat skull with horns attached. As the climb got harder, the path started blending in with the general scrub. We made cairns to mark our path and help us on the return. At one point, we startled some live mountain goats and watched as four of them made their way up to and across a ridge. We eventually made our way to a ridge that was a false peak, where we had a view of the expansive valley all the way to the sea. We stopped and had energy bars and water. It was very hot and windy and neither of us had hiking boots, so we began our descent. The whole trip took us a little under 3 hours.
The town of Ialyssos had lots of shops, cafes, restaurants, sports bars, and a fish spa where we had our feet nibbled. We immersed our feet in a tank full of small fish that licked and sucked the dead skin off. It was very relaxing and it tickled. The whole process took about half an hour and we came away with soft, clean feet.
One afternoon, we gave our skin a break from the sun and went to the Archaeological Museum of Rhodes. It’s housed in a medieval hospital built around 600 A.D, but the sculptures and artifacts date back many centuries B.C. (Rhodes has been inhabited for about 24 centuries!) One particularly lovely statue was a white marble kneeling Aphrodite, often referred to as the Venus of Rhodes.
The 3 most ancient settlements on the island are Lindos, Ialyssos, and Kamiros. We had visited the first two, so we headed for the third. Ancient Kamiros, like the other sites, is set high on a hill overlooking the sea. They had uncovered much of a town with the lower walls of houses, baths, a fountain square, etc. At the very top, was a Temple of Athena from which you could see the island's 2 highest peaks to the east and southeast and the Aegean Sea to the west.
On our last full day on the island, we went on a search. We had glimpsed what looked like stone turbans behind an iron fence on our way out of the city the day before. We found the place, but the first gate was locked. We walked around the block to another locked gate but saw that there were a few people inside the fence. We kept walking around and at the next corner, we noticed a plaque on a small house within the grounds. It had been the temporary residence of the writer, Lawrence Durrell from 1943-45. (I highly recommend his book, "The Bitter Lemons of Cyprus" btw.) Continuing around, we finally came to an open doorway in an Arabic-style house. We passed through some work in progress to a quiet garden next to a small mosque. An elderly couple sat there talking to a young family and they motioned us toward an open gate. Inside we found a very old cemetery set amidst ancient trees. The tombs were above the ground and each one had a standing plaque or column with what looked to us like Turkish writing. Many were indeed topped by either a stone turban or stone fez and some had floral designs in the stone. As we exited, the cemetery, we peeked into an open doorway of a small chapel. An old man motioned that it was okay to enter. Shoe removal was appreciated. It was the resting place of a religious leader by the name of Mohammed. On our way out, we thanked the old man and asked if he spoke any English. His one-word reply, accompanied by a gesture to his surroundings was, "Turkey." He meant it was from the Byzantine era.
We had our farewell dinner at the Napoli Restaurant and verified arrangements for leaving the key, etc. The owner offered us complimentary schnapps before we left. Alessandra toasted us with the Greek, "Ya mas!" and said goodbye too. She told my husband that his mother's maiden name (Dlugosz) was famous in Poland. She said her last name, Jagielo, was also famous.
On our final morning, we took one last drive up the western coast so we could walk a coastal path along the rocky ledges. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and we spent about an hour enjoying the exercise, the plant life, and the sound of the waves lapping the shore below. We asked a couple along the way to take a photo of the two of us - the only one on that trip. Further along, several Germans pointed out a cave in one of the rocks. They said it was a memorial for those lost, perhaps at sea. We walked down and peeked in to find lit candles, an altar, and many mementos adorning the walls.
At the airport, we were trying to decide where to leave the car (no signs for rental returns) and who should appear but our rental agent from two weeks before! We surrendered the keys, shook hands, and went into the terminal in search of the Ryanair office. They didn't have one. It was a compact, small airport, so the non-EU visa check and boarding pass stamp were done at the gate check-in- a simple end to a lovely stay.