Greece

Tuesday, May 29

I landed in Paris on Tuesday evening and Dave picked me up from the airport, being the darling husband that he is. I came home, unpacked, washed, and repacked. Plus burned a cd, wrapped and addressed two packages, and looked up Inigo Montoya videos on YouTube. I went to bed really late.

Wednesday, May 30
On Wednesday we took the train to the Charles DeGaulle airport, which wasn't exactly easy with luggage, especially crossing through two major metro stations. At Gare du Nord we saw security people running around, taping off exits. We scurried to our next train as the loudspeakers announced that we should evacuate immediately. We hopped onto the train and never found out what was going on.

We arrived in Athens by early evening, picked up our rental car, and bought a cheapie map of the area. We brought along the Tom Tom, even though the website doesn't list Greece as one of her known countries. Lucky for us, she knew Athens, and saved us once again.

Using the Tom Tom and a travel book my mom brought us, we found our way to a hotel in Plaka, a neighborhood of Athens next to the Acropolis. Plaka has very old, narrow streets and is filled with souvenir shops. Hence, it is very popular with tourists, and soon we found ourselves driving down one of those streets that is not officially pedestrian but is ruled by pedestrians anyway. Dave was so mortified. We edged down the street, waiting patiently for people to move out of the way. One American woman wasn't paying attention and Dave tapped her on the butt with the side mirror. She yelped and whined and I had a good laugh.

We finally made it to the hotel, and after parking the car and our bags we took a walk through the area. We passed through Plaka to the foot of the Acropolis within a few minutes and started to work our way up. We passed through a really quaint neighborhood of classic Greek houses on a narrow foot path that wound its way upward. Eventually we found that we couldn't get to the top from where we were, so we climbed up another small hill for a view of the Acropolis and the city below as the sun set.

After that we worked our way back down into Plaka for dinner on a sidewalk terrace. Gyros, naturally. We had an excellent people-watching vantage point on a bustling corner. Surprising both of us was the fact that most of the tourists were American. It seemed that there were more Americans in Athens than Greeks.

We also noticed a lot of stray animals. Dogs and cats were lying on the street in complete disregard for all of the noise and crowds around them. I wondered why so many dogs were wearing collars, and Dave read in the tour book that the animals are communal, and that everyone took care of them. Later we saw bowls of water and dishes of cat food set out in little nooks and corners of the streets.

You know what's funny? I think it was Jerry Seinfeld (or maybe it was George) who asked: "In China, do they call Chinese food just 'food'?" In France, French green beans are called "green beans", in Spain, Spanish peanuts are called..."peanuts". But in Greece, they still call it a "Greek salad". Maybe it's for the tourists. Anyway.

Thursday, May 31
The next day we walked to the proper entrance of the Acropolis and bought tickets. We saw ancient theaters, temples, all kinds of old stuff that we didn't research before coming. At least I knew the Parthenon, which was one of my main reasons for wanting to visit Greece and another check on my mental list of Things I Learned About in High School Humanities and Always Wanted to See.

The only disappointment about the Acropolis was the massive amount of reconstruction it was undergoing. Almost all of the buildings were covered in scaffolding and we couldn't actually go inside. Best we could do was press up against the construction fence and take photos.

I was also surprised to see that many of the friezes and pediments (I had to look this word up) of the Parthenon were missing. Whether they're being restored or have been moved to the Acropolis museum or have just degraded with time I don't know.

Anyway, after the Acropolis we walked back down the hill and took a break from the crowds on a bench under the shade of an olive tree. I spent some time looking for olives until I heard someone say that they're all harvested in the winter.

On the way back into Plaka we took the same foot path we'd taken the night before and spent some time taking photos. Here are few, but there are more on Flickr.

By then it was only mid afternoon and we didn't have any other plans for the day. Since the World Rally Championship Acropolis Rally was another primary reason for our visit, we decided to try to catch a race. We consulted the rally guide and the Tom Tom and decided to drive out to the hippodrome for the super special race.

The super special is not a road course, but an enclosed course on a small man-made track. It's like a little mini-race, two cars racing at once, everyone competing for the best time.

It took us some time, but we found the hippodrome, sat in a fair amount of traffic, parked the car on the side of the road, and walked the rest of the way. Just as we walked up to the ticket counter, a woman announced that they were sold out. Bad luck!

As we stood around with the other disappointed fans, we noticed some people walking up the hill at the side of the stadium. They walked right past security guards, who didn't seem to take notice. So we figured why not, and walked up the hill with the others.

At the top of the hill a fence ran around the perimeter of the hippodrome. And there at a low spot in the fence, people were carefully edging along the top of the wall and climbing over. Dave looked at me and said "Can you do it?"

Well of course I couldn't get girly on him, we'd come all the way to Greece for this race. So I climbed over the fence and he followed and we scrambled up the hill with the others. That's right, we gate-crashed the race. I bet you thought I was innocent.

Everyone was dashing in different directions, keeping as low as possible. We were like a bunch of illegal immigrants. We quickly crossed a field dotted with olive trees, over another hill, and found ourselves standing next to the pit of the course, this close to getting our toes run over by some of the best drivers in the world.

We watched cars roll by for a few minutes until we both decided that we were too vulnerable and that there was no way we could stay there without being thrown out. So we walked closer to the seating area of the stadium and spotted a small crest where other crashers had gathered to watch the race. As we walked closer we heard yelling and saw two security guards in the distance point to us. Obviously we knew what they wanted, but we played dumb and scrambled up the hill with the others. I figured maybe we could see a few races before we were caught.

As I focused intently on the race, acting like I belonged there, Dave watched the security guards walk up, look at the lot of us, maybe 20 people, and walk away.

We were lucky to get there just as the two highest ranking drivers competed, Sebastien Loeb (France) and Marcus Gronholm (Finland). Loeb had been leading the season so far, but Gronholm won the race. It was close.

We watched several more races and eventually gathered the nerve to walk over to the stands with the paying spectators. Again, we walked by several security guards, who were only interested in us not getting in the path of the drivers.

We decided to leave before the races were finished to avoid the crowd. We bought dinner from a kid on the side of the road selling sandwiches and hiked back to the car by twilight.

Friday, June 1
Friday was supposed to be the day we spent at the rally, spectators on the side of the road getting sprayed with gravel and covered in dust. I was fired up.

We started with the rally guide we had printed off the internet, which as it turned out, hadn't been updated since January. After some time driving we stopped at a gas station and were given a proper rally guide, albeit in Greek.

We never found the course. We must have stopped at a dozen different gas stations, each one telling us to go in a different direction. The rally guide was vague, the map wasn't detailed with the tiny back roads of Greece, the Tom Tom didn't understand Greek.

At one point in the day we stopped in a medium-sized town to take a break and stretch our legs. We came across a sport shoe store and walked out with a new pair of shoes each. We agreed that we needed to get some kind of gratification out of that day.

By late afternoon we were tired and irritable. We had given up on getting directions from anyone and were just looking for interesting roads to drive around on. We took a random road up the side of a mountain and drove up to a beautiful view of the city below. We parked the car and were walking to a good vantage point when two motorcyclists rolled up beside us. One of them asked "Acropolis Rally?"

"YES!" we said, "WHERE IS IT?" He didn't know either. We compared maps and notes and another motorcycle came from the other direction. He stopped, and they all quickly chattered in Greek. I poked the guy nearest me and said "What's going on?" He turned and said "The stage has been cancelled. There is no race."

So there you had it. Six hours of driving around for nothing. Well, not completely nothing; we had a great view of Athens from the side of a mountain and new shoes.

We drove back down into the city and took a walk for dinner. We found ourselves on the other side of Plaka in a less tourist-packed district. We chose a restaurant with a large sidewalk terrace next to a band and a great view of the Acropolis. As we sat there we watched twilight fall and a full moon rise over the Parthenon. The view was so amazing, even the waiters were stopping to look.

Saturday, June 2
Feeling rather unsatisfied from the day before, we decided to give the Acropolis Rally one more try. With newfound optimism we got up early and drove about 30 minutes northwest of Athens. Again the map was vague, and again, every gas station pointed us in different direction. It was getting to be close to race time, and we had driven the same stretch of road at least three times. We were frustrated and annoyed. Obviously the organizers of this race did not have the spectators in mind.

And then, nailed to a tree, there was a small, hand-lettered sign: Spectators
It was a rally miracle.
Dave pulled off the road and we found our car in the company of Subaru Imprezas and Ford Focus hatchbacks with tire decals. This had to be the place.

We parked amongst the others and started walking along the dirt road into the mountains. About half a mile later, with no end in site, Dave ran back for the car and picked me up. We carefully drove along the winding road, which was not an ordinary dirt road but covered with sharp rocks at least as large as my fist. Did I mention that we were in an Opel Astra? There were a few jokes about the all-wheel drive engineer refusing to rent an all-wheel drive vehicle.

After another mile or so we decided we couldn't push the car any further: the roads were too rocky and steep. We parked alongside the road and began hiking again. After another half mile we started seeing other cars parked along the road, and people.

And then, nestled between two mountains on a steep, winding road, there was the race course.

We were late, and had missed the big drivers, but there still plenty of competition left. We scrambled down the side of the mountain and spent a few happy hours enjoying what we'd worked so hard for.

Here's my first blogged video, nothing too dramatic, but you can see Dave in it.



After a while the best cars had finished and only the little beaters were racing, so we decided to call it day. We started the hike back to the car, and got a lift halfway from group of Greek guys in a pickup truck. I enjoyed the ride; crouched in the bed of the truck, breeze blowing by, hanging over the edge of a mountain.

We drove the rest of the way down the mountain without any incident, and back to the hotel to change out of our dusty clothes. We asked the Tom Tom to take us to a beach, and drove to the closest.

It seems that you have to pay to go to the best beaches in Athens, which would be a big disappointment if the 4 euro entry fee didn't include use of beach chairs and an umbrella. The beach was crowded and the shore gravely, but the water was clean and temperature was perfect so I can't complain.

After a few hours we went back to the same district as the night before for dinner. We had one of those waitresses who forgets everything and spent a long time talking and watching stray dogs chase Smart cars.

After dinner we walked the long way around the Acropolis back to our hotel for the night.

Sunday, June 3

On Sunday we flew back to Paris, nothing to say about the travel day except that the Athens airport is 10 times more efficient than Charles de Gaulle. We landed in the Orly airport, which is also more pleasant than CDG, on the southern side of the Paris.

Then trains back to the apartment and laundry for the rest of the day.

So that was Greece, sorry for the long post but we had a great time. However, we've agreed that if we ever decide to go to another rally race, we'll be sure to choose a host country who has posted sufficient information to guide us to the courses.