We arrive in Greece...

Arose like good soldiers at 4:30 a.m., our taxi whisked us to the airport, and we boarded the Alitalia flight for Rome, then Greece (Alitalia not a glamour airline...sitting down to dirty seats, one wondered if they didn't have the time to vacuum, did they have time to check the oil). (Note: had one of the best cafe lattes in the Rome airport of all places). Our taxi driver, speaking occasional German and playing loudly with some kind of worry beads, whisked us to the Economy Hotel in Athens. We are ecstatic because, while it is not glamorous, it is cheap (60 Euros a night). And most importantly it is clean...spotless in fact.

We set out for the Acropolis, after a tourist trap lunch...food was great but we paid way too much and are embarrassed (lamb, chicken, eggplant, yogurty stuff, and of course, the ubiquitous french fries.

Athens is much more crowded than when Ricky W. and I visited a couple of years ago (I think we were here in March...so much cooler and less peopled).

The Acropolis was great. It sits on top of a rocky mountain in the center of Athens, complete with the temple to Athena Nike, the magnificent Parthenon (not the Pantheon...that's the round building in Rome with the hole in the roof), and assorted other temples. It was political, religious, and in some ways military center of ancient Athens. Unfortunately, or ultimately fortunately I guess, there was much reconstruction work going, and scaffolding aplenty. But still, it's impressive stuff, especially to Professor M. who said that he fulfilled a lifelong dream with this visit. With glee, he said, "Socrates walked here!" (Although we think he may have busted his ass a few times as the marble on top of the Acropolis is very slippery).

We also learned, to our chagrin, that we have the Italians, the Venetians to be exact, to thank for destroying the Parthenon. Seems the Venetians were battling with the Turks, who had control of and stored ammunition in the Parthenon somewhere back in the 1800s. The Venetians bombed the hell out of the Acropolis, including one doozy that gave us the decrepit Parthenon we find today. Still, it is something. And to stand there (in the blistering sun even) and to gaze off into the surrounding city of Athens and to imagine what it was like...it's better than t.v.

Down into the Plaka, the old section of Athens at the foot of the Acropolis to find the bar Ricky W. and I frequented...a famous ouzo bar (and distillery) named Bretto's. It's been open for a hundred years, and has had only three owners. When we visited last, the owner was a guy who was the spitting image of Pope John Paul. He's sold out, and the new chatty owner has yuppified the place. He's selling t-shirts, even fixed the shelving. But he's amiable, and informed us that, in addition to us, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have visited, as have countless other celebrities. So there.

We also chatted up a couple from Tasmania (?) on their honeymoon. Lawyers, both, they were quite civilized nonetheless...Leslie confessed that she was the most perfect woman he has ever met (that was several glasses of wine down).

On, finally, to Ricky W. and my favorite Athens restaurant, Tavernos Xino. It's down a side alley, and is worth the hunt. Simple, rustic food (order whatever Big Daddy tells you to order), served this time out in the patio because of the heat, with the Acropolis looming and countless cats roaming nearby. My food was perfect...a Greek salad (here served with no lettuce, only tomatoes, cucumbers, kalamta olives, and lots of feta...an orzo pasta with lamb). Leslie fared less well. He ordered the lamb something or other and it turned out to be a gooey mess, and he was frustrated by the fact that the lamb was served on the bone and he had to struggle to figure out what he was eating. Oh, well...mine was magnificent, and it cost about half what our lunch did so at least that was a relief.

Tomorrow we conquer the rest of the Acropolis complex, and maybe even get to the port nearby, Piraeus. We also hope to schedule a tour of Delphi the day after...the bellybutton of the universe where the oracle used to sit. For a classics professor (and his weasel of a friend who studies the classics between lawsuits), it's grand stuff.

We do not miss the driving in Italy. Nor do we miss that mid-day break that everybody takes that ruins your schedule. Alas, we have returned it seems to civilization.