Judith's blog

Today was a cold, grey windy day. But mostly it was cold. I didn’t feel well in the night, but I was damned if it was going to ruin my holiday, so dragged myself out anyway. We decided to got to the tourist information to check out buses and if anything was happening today, but despite the sign saying it should be open, it was closed – we seem to have that kind of effect on tourist information offices. So first destination today was the cemetery. It’s a bit left field for a tourist site, but apparently, it’s like a sculpture park.

Unfortunately we didn’t get there, as we got distracted by the stadium. You can see into it, but have to pay to go round it, and it’s just a modern oblong amphitheatre, so it seemed a bit pointless handing over the readies. By this time we were too far from the cemetery, so we walked towards Lycabettus Hill. I’ve been looking forward to taking the cable car/funicular railway (depending on which translation you read) up the hill since we got here.  The closer we got the worse I felt. I wasn’t up to map reading and Geoff found us to roughly where the map said the funicular was, but we could only find a path up, nothing else. We started the walk up, but I had to stop a few times with pain and then vomiting. What we didn’t ever find was any evidence of a funicular. Anywhere. We assumed they must have dismantled it until we read it was actually underground, in a channel under the surface of the hill. If there are no views it seems pointless, especially if the walk up is pretty easy anyway!

It was freezing on top, so we just carried on down the other side and then walked through the districts of Neopolis and Exarchia. The latter is the anarchist/bohemian quarter and we wandered around looking at shops and the amazing graffiti on the walls. Athens has little litter, but a lot of graffiti, most of it just pure vandalism, but in Exarchia there are some real artists at work. We ended our stroll at Omonia Square, where our original hotel was. It is dodgy and we’re so glad we changed hotels.

By the time we were back in our area I was frozen and although feeling much better, I wanted to have a snooze, so we went back to the hotel. We set  off out at 6pm to have more of a walk and find dinner. On our first night here we ate in the square just a couple of hundred meters from our hotel in the centre of Plaka, but were royally ripped off. The tout that persuaded us to go in promised us free drinks and dessert, but the food was atrocious and they charged us for water we didn’t order (same price as wine), bread, service charge, etc. Touts are in front of pretty much every restaurant and they get very wearing.  We were determined to find somewhere more off the beaten track to eat and started walking down the main shopping road towards Monastiraki district. At the bottom of the street there was a group of young people with signs (in Greek and English) saying ‘Free Hugs’. They waved them at us, but in true British fashion, we just walked by and then stopped to check out what was happening. I assumed they were some sort of religious nutters, but they didn’t actually engage people in chat, they literally just hugged anyone who felt like it. One of the guys came over to us, so we asked him why they were doing this. He looked at me in a puzzled way and said: “Because we like hugging!” So Geoff and I both got a lovely big hug from a lovely young man. We walked away smiling, thinking what a wonderful way it was to bring some random happiness to people.

We wandered around the closing flea market again and tried to find a tout free restaurant, when we came across our hugging friends for a second time. After a quick hug we asked them where to eat and got some excellent tips, so we thanked everyone with a big hug. What nice people the Greeks are!

The restaurant was a proper local place – just what we wanted on our last evening. And then off to a bar (again, no touts), which offered cheap beer. But the amazing thing was that they had a covered roof terrace with views of both the Acropolis and the Temple of Hephaestus, so you could sit in the warm with these amazing vistas. It was really cool. We were the only ones in there until eight lads from Imperial College CivSoc turned up. We were hoping this meant Civil Society, but realised it was civil engineering and once they were on their second round, we headed off. Interesting day and lovely evening…

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We’ve been struggling to find a decent forecast while here, so I decided just to go with the synoptic. Despite all the crappy wherever-you-are forecasts saying it was going to pour today, I insisted that it would be fine. Cloudy, but fine. To my immense relief, I was right.

We set the alarm for 7.30am (which is actually 6.30am real time for us) and got to the Acropolis for 8.40am. We sauntered up via the longer southerly route, past the Theatre of Dionysus. They still have some of the original seating – not just the standard stone tiers, but actual stone seats, with names on them. Once we got up to the hill, we realised what a great plan it was to go early. It wasn’t too busy and you could point at land marks without stabbing someone in the eye (unlike last time I was there in July 1988). As we walked back to the site entrance a wave of visitors came flooding towards us.

We decided to walk across to the Philopappou hill to see the momuments and the views of the Acropolis. I managed to get us successfully up the hill, but then got distracted by views and got us hopelessly lost getting down the other side. Let’s just say we went off the beaten tourist track… through hedges, over fences and up and down some very minor paths. We eventually did make it to Kerameikos, site of the ancient walls, gates and cemetery of the city. It was a really interesting place, but we would have made more of it if we hadn’t missed the introductory information in the rush to get to a sunny bench to stuff our faces with delicious spinach pastries for lunch. Once again we were turfed out of the place by 2.45pm, having not seen it all.

We ambled back towards the hotel via a sunny beer in the square, had a rest and then headed out to see the changing of the guards at the parliament. If I described the soldiers as ‘ministry of silly walks’, they were just dilettantes – this lot are the real inspiration for John Cleese. And Monty Python was actually a pale imitation of the real thing. See here for just a snap shot of the whole malarky. It is very bizarre – partly that people will join something which forces them to act like that – but also, whoever thought up the silly walks in the first place, must have been really, really strange.  

Next up was the Acropolis Museum, the only archeological thing open in the evening. It’s purpose built and really well done. The building is on an excavation site, and the floors are made of glass, so you can see the dig happening live. Most impressively, the building is a similar size to the Parthenon on the Acropolis, and they have displayed the friezes, metopes and pediments as they would have been seen in-situ. And the building is high enough to get an amazing night-time illuminated view of the Acropolis while you walk around.

And yesterday, I thought the sleeping dogs were just coincindence, but they’re everywhere. I have no idea what they get up to at night, but they seem to need more sleep than cats. Everywhere you look there’s a sleeping dog!

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Seems we are the only guests in the hotel. We started with a breakfast that seemed to be served on a child’s toy dinner set. Everything in miniature. Very cute.  Somehow I managed to get my cheese to vault  into my coffee and it was a good job I managed to fish it out quick, or I would have had coffee fondue.

We headed straight to the tourist info, where the very charming woman gave us great guidebooks and on asking what to do in Athens in the rain, said museums would be a good bet. What she didn’t mention was the fact that all the museums and sites shut at 3pm. Had we known, we would not have ambled around, but headed straight to the National Archeological museum, which was on my must-do list. The amble around took us to the Temple of the Olympian Zeus, when it started to rain a bit more heavily. On leaving the site it abated a bit, so we walked through the national gardens and came across an army unit practicing marching. They have a very strange march here, more ministry of funny walks than German goose stepping. They were a bit uncoordinated as a group too. I would have loved to have seen someone turn on a ghetto blaster and play Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I will survive’ alongside them and see what happened.

On the way to the metro station, we actually managed to walk up to the parliament (the line of riot police has gone) and see the traditionally dressed guards, complete with bobble shoes, tights and tassle hat. Like the British palace guards, they have to stand completely still, not smile and certainly not talk to anyone. I’m sure they recruit them straight off the Ramblas in Barcelona, and if not, that’s where they probably go to when they retire from the army, to become living statues. We got on the metro and changed after one stop (as recommended by the lovely tourist info woman), only to find that the line we were trying to use (and the station we needed to get off at) has been closed for improvements since last August. She forgot to mention that. Once above ground, the buses were being delayed by some sort of street party, so we gave up and decided to go to the party and just forget the museum.

There was a band playing, people dancing in the street and another group of people joining a long queue onto a raised area above the square. We had a look around the market (lots of skinned sheep’s heads, pigs feet and fish) and then found a place to have gyros (a type of kebab). We were lucky, just as we sat down the rain intensified and after 10 minutes even the band had to make a run for it. Above us the queue steadily got longer, despite people getting drenched, but marshals were letting a few people at a time progress. Once a  TV crew arrived we couldn’t contain our nosiness any longer and went to see what was going on. To our surprise and shock, it was a soup kitchen, giving out hot meals and wine. But it wasn’t just homeless people in the queue, it was just ordinary citizens. I hope that if it becomes the norm that countries in Europe need soup kitchens to feed their people, that these are set up in financial districts so that the w/bankers can see what they have done to people. Not that I think they give a shit – they’re too busy counting this year’s bonuses.

By this time it was 1pm, and we decided that if we’re going to see most of what we want to before 3pm each day, we need actually go into some archaeological sites. The Library of Hadrian was the first, followed by the site of the Agora, which was the public meeting place in both ancient Greek and Roman times. The site contains the Temple of Hephaestus, claimed to be the best preserved temple in the Greek world. The whole site is fascinating. Once it started raining heavily again we went into the on-site museum which was organised chronologically from 700 BC to the Roman era and beyond. Most of the exhibits are from burial chambers, so intact. We saw not only jars, vases and jewellery, but every day items like a child’s potty from 350 BC, mobile cooking devices and a grill. Clever people the ancient Greeks and Romans. Unfortunately, we were turfed out of the museum at 2.40pm, so they could clear the site and close up at 3pm.

The area we were in contained the Athens flea market, which is actually mostly a funky shopping area, quite like the  Brighton Lanes. We ended up in what seemed like the biggest bead shop ever. It had every kind of jewellery accessory imaginable and the most amazing collection of carabiners – shaped as cars, hearts, candles – you name it. I wouldn’t have risked my life hanging off any one of them though. They also had the biggest collection of hair grips, key rings and bracelets. The other shop we ended up in was a carnival/fancy dress shop, where we amused each other trying out crazy sunglasses. A bit more ambling and but it started pouring in earnest and we headed back to the hotel before dinner. Having looked at a forecast, this might turn out to be our worst weather holiday ever. Oh dear…

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We got up reasonably early and looked at the internet for some directions to the hotel in Athens and spotted some of the comments about the area. People mentioned ‘slum’, ‘scary’ and ‘unsuitable for walking around in the evening’. A bit of further investigation had us cancel the hotel and re-book in a nicer and more central part. In fact, just round the corner from Parliament.

Our plane was only slightly delayed and we got to Athens airport without a hitch. We were about to go to the bus stop when we found out that the strike was a public worker strike – so no busses or metro trains. Our only option getting to the city centre was a 40 euro taxi ride. It made sense to us to try and find some people to share with, but finding people proved more difficult. In the end we shared with a Chinese couple who, when I spoke English to them, asked me if I spoke Spanish. A bit bizarre.

We got into a nice plush Merc and sped off to Athens. The taxi driver spoke excellent English and our new Chinese friend said to us (in Spanish) ‘Let’s talk Spanish, so he doesn’t know what we say’. We agreed and 5 minutes later the taxi driver explained to the Chinese couple in very good Spanish how to get to their hotel. He has a Peruvian girlfriend. His English is so good because he had an attractive teacher. It was the only classes he paid attention in!

He was really nice and went to the trouble of phoning our hotel, whilst punching in details into the satnav (all this while still on the motorway), to make sure he could get us there. He also got onto the radio to other taxi drivers to check if it was actually possible to get to our hotel – the demonstration which accompanied the strike was in front of parliament, so the roads would probably be closed. We got through in the end, but as soon as we saw the riot police, protesters and burning pyres, our driver panicked. Apparently, if you’re in a skoda taxi you’re ok, but a Merc will often be attacked by anti-crisis protesters. We offered to get out and walk, but we wouldn’t hear of it. He got us to our hotel, but checked with his colleagues by radio – the Chinese couple would not be able to get to their hotel, all the roads were blocked. He advised them to eat something and in two or three hours take a taxi. They are staying in the area we had been planning to and he was most insitent that they take a taxi. So glad we changed our location!

So after dumping our stuff we decided to have a walk around and see what all the demo was about – from a distance. It was all basically over, and the fire brigade had extinguished the fires, but seeing about 300 or 400 riot police, in full battle gear, lining the streets was a bit intimidating. Seeing many of them still in gas masks should have given us a clue… shortly after our eyes started watering from the residual gas in the air. I wanted to take some pictures but a stern look and headshake from one of the cops with mace spray and a machine gun had me meekly returning the camera to my pocket. You see a brief video and news report here.

Since the excitement was basically over, we ambled through the Plaka district and had dinner. Now an early night to be ready for a full day of tourism tomorrow.

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Christmas was a nice family affair, with my sister, brother-in-law and nearly three year old niece and I spending it up at my parent’s house in Rupit.. Lovely sunny weather and we managed to go out for a walk everyday, although not too long ones, since everyone took it in turns to feel under the weather with a cold, and my sister is heavily pregnant.

Christmas day was great. We usually open our presents in turn, so it takes a long time, but everyone gets to see what everyone else got and you get to play with stuff before moving on to the next. So half-way through the presents we stopped to play the Elefun game, where we all had to run around catching butterflies which were being blown out of a plastic elephant’s trunk.

I got one of the best presents ever! My parents know that I love relief maps, so they checked on the Catalan Cartological Service web site and found that there are such maps available for La Garrotxa, the area we live in. I now have a 1:100 000 3D map of the area, with nearly all the flying sites on. I spent a happy afternoon looking at all the ridges, hills and bumps, planning flights and re-living previous XCs.

After rabbit for lunch we played daft games most of the day. Boxing Day had us walking along the cliff to Tavertet for a sumptous lunch at Faves Comptades (counted beans), before Geoff came back from the UK, to spend the evening with us.

And Johnny flew every day over Christmas. Two good days, one ok. It did look pretty good from where I was.

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Our last day in Lanzarote and the forecast was lousy. Even stronger winds, but the possibility of rain had been reduced from 75% to 45%. We packed our flying stuff away and walked out of the apartment into a gorgeous hot and sunny day. Rain seemed nowhere on the horizon. Any thoughts of trying for a quick morning flight on the off-chance were soon dashed when we realised how windy it really was. Instead we went Costa Teguise to find a non-fried breakfast and failed miserably. We didn’t think anything of the place, so on to the last must-see thing on our list for the week: César Manrique’s house. Manrique was the artist who designed most of the amazing places we visited during the week, like the cactus garden, Jameos del Agua and the many kinetic sculptures that dot the island. He laid down the strict architectural and planning rules that have stopped Lanzarote becoming some trashed and trashy tourist resort.

His house is built in a lava field and incorporates a number of lava bubbles or jameos, where the roof has caved in, so you have an indoor/outdoor space, complete with trees growing in the centre of the room. The rest of the house is fascinating too. I loved it.

Next we drove to Arrecife, the capital of Lanzarote, and the only place where Manrique’s town planning guidelines don’t apply (although I think he’s spinning in his grave about the new settlements in Playa Blanca).  Arrecife in general is a bit of a dump, but the sea front was nice. By the time we got there the wind had increased even more and swimming was out of the question. I can’t believe I went to Lanzarote and didn’t swim once (actually, that’s the same as last time!). I did get a paddle, a bounce on the beach trampoline and then we walked to the raised park which has a sea wall. The waves were breaking on it so hard that the spray was sometimes 20m high. Geoff let himself get drenched.

Then more walking round the sea front to the old fort and through the old town until it was time to go to the airport. Luckily, we arrived in plenty of time, since there were twice as many people than normal there, with all the backlog of people still waiting to get onto their flights. We ended up leaving an hour late and were greeted by a lovely young stewardess called Vanessa, who sent us greetings from Roger. She had been stranded with him in Marseille the previous day. Once we were airborne, and before the trolley came round, she brought us two complimentary beers. Not compliments of Ryanair, obviously! Roger had asked her to give them to us as a present. It’s the nearest I’ll ever come to feeling like I’m travelling first class on Ryanair. We were really, really touched by his kind thought.

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The forecast was for strong winds today, and getting stronger as the day progressed. Although Fritz hinted that he thought it might be possible to fly today, we wrote it off when it seemed to pick up a lot over breakfast. We drove past the south coast and didn’t see anyone flying, but then again, the palm trees seemed to be doubled over.

We headed over to the north side of the Timanfaya national park to do the hike recommended by the information centre. The Montaña Blanca trail took us on a rocky path through a lava field into the crater of a little volcano. We then walked along a better path to Montaña Blanca, while we looked for the path up to the crater. We eventually found it, but the wind was getting stronger. We spoke to a German couple at the bottom of the sloping path and they told us that the wind on the edge of the crater was really strong, so much so that they had been scared walking down and had relied on their walking sticks to keep themselves balanced. They suggested we take our glasses off as both of them had nearly lost theirs. We decided to walk up part way and see. As we climbed higher, the gusts got stronger and stronger, blowing down little rocks and making us crouch down, to keep steady. Another group of Germans came down the hill and reported conditions where it was difficult to stay steady on your feet and one said she was nearly pushed over by the wind.

We had a lengthy discussion about how sensible it would be to carry on. The forecast was for increasing winds in the middle of the day and I was already concerned about the conditions half way up, never mind in the dip of the crater, where there was a strong venturi effect. In the end we decided there’s a difference between doing something dangerous and just being foolhardy, so turned back and walked back down. We were really disappointed though not to see the crater.

As we walked back along the bottom of the volcano, I estimate the gusts to have been about 45 – 50mph and occasionally we were bent forward walking into the wind. It was hard going. Once back round the volcano we spotted another path (which hadn’t been on our map) and eventually found the way up. The path up took us through the pyroclastic flow between the two volcanoes and you got to see the swirling mass of broken lava up close. The path here was much more sheltered and the wind wasn’t an issue until we got to the rim, where we sat down to admire the view. It was getting on by this time and we decided it was time to head back. Our walk took over four hours in total and we decided to head back to the coast in search of a sandwich via La Geria, Lanzarote’s wine growing region. It is a deep black landscape of man-made hollows, some with protective walls built around them, to protect the vines from the incessant wind. As I stopped to take a picture, I had to hold onto the car door to stop it being blow open violently and I had to walk nearly diagonally to be able to walk into the wind.

A couple of kilometers later, we could see the backside of the flying site of Macher and to our complete and utter amazement, there were hang gliders flying! I couldn’t believe that the conditions could either be so different, or that they would be so crazy. With much head shaking and tutting, we drove down to Playa Quemada to see if we could get something to eat and a beer when even more amazingly, we saw paragliders in the air. Admittedly, they were taking off about 30 or 40m AMSL, and it still seemed strong, but four of them managed to get a short flight before darkness. Incredible.

We had been following the air traffic control strike on the news and internet, but it seemed like the government’s intervention would work and we would be able to get our flights home no problem. Geoff had a skype chat with our pilot friend Roger, who had had to divert to Marseille, and was stuck there while his passengers were bused to Girona. Asked if he thought the military coming in would solve the problem he said “Sure, if they use enough ammunition”. The air traffic controllers here really didn’t make any friends this weekend, particularly when it was revealed that their average salary is 350,000 euros.

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