My Big Fat Greek Trip

Mystical, Mythical Mykonsos.

Our big fat Greek trip started by flying directly from Athens to Mykonos and the beautiful island of narrow walkways were donkeys and small three-wheel motorized carts deliver goods to hotels, restaurants and shops. During the day and into the evenings, we ...Mystical, Mythical Mykonsos.

Our big fat Greek trip started by flying directly from Athens to Mykonos and the beautiful island of narrow walkways were donkeys and small three-wheel motorized carts deliver goods to hotels, restaurants and shops. During the day and into the evenings, we wandered endlessly through the myriad passageways viewing the boutiques and little shops selling art, jewelry, cakes, fish, weavings, pottery, clothes, and various souvenirs.

Around every corner we stand in front of one of the more than 500 chapels gracing the island. Many of these chapels were constructed for each fisherman who survived a storm at sea. The spirit of Christianity is expressed in the chapels with their humble size, soft curves, and clean whitewash walls gleaming brightly against the magnificent blue sky and the deep blue Aegean Sea.

Windmills overlook Little Venice, a small part of Mykonsos, and we decide to shop at a jewelry boutique called the Minotaur. By the Minotaur, an aligned row of windmills holds a daily vigil in their uniform appearance as if they are the island’s grand protectors. Our owners and artisans of the Minotaur Boutique are both named Christos and they sell the most delicate, unique and tastefully designed artifacts of silver, gold, and pottery that we’ve ever seen. We spend a few hours discussing Socrates, Plato, and Bush with them and they invite us back the next evening for wine. To do is to be – Socrates. To be is to do – Plato. Do be do be do -- Sinatra.

Questions abound from every restaurateur and shopkeeper, “Where are you from? What is your name? What are you doing here? What do you do?” The local people are curious, chatty, and interested in everyone and everything. There is much talk of current politics, leadership, and economics. There is conce
about war and we see a warship in the harbour and many army helicopters flying overhead. The contrast of thinking of war while basking in the beauty of Mykonsos is difficult to assimilate. We know that there are tensions and dangers looming and we share the locals’ conce
s for safety and world peace. The expressive and sometimes loud and excitable discussions stream in from every nook and cranny around us.

Not only are the discussions varied and lively, so is the local cuisine which consists of many delicacies such as octopus, squid, and yummy rich yogurt smothered with thick golden honey. While every spot is a vision, every table hints of pleasure for the senses as the clear inviting sea gently cushions and hugs the island. One old, leathery-skinned gentleman with the traditional black cap of a sea faring man, stood in front of the sea and with both hands at his lips, smacked his hands with a kiss and expanded his arms out to either side saying, “It feeds me.” The view, the sea, the sky – it feeds all of us with its splendour.

Sacred, Delightful, Delosr
As if Mykonsos isn’t beautiful enough, we boat to the sacred isle of Delos where Apollo, god of light, breathes energy into us. With every step we take, we feel more awakened and energized by the ancient pillars, stones, temples and the famous “Terrace of the Lions” that guard this holy place. The bright barren and rocky terrain not only housed a vital economic flow of trade with its ideal location connecting three continents, it also was known as a major religious centre in its time. The myth has it that Leto, the love
of Zeus, took refuge on Delos and gave birth to Apollo after Poseidon struck the sea with his trident causing this small, bright island to appear. Every stone is vibrant with history, energy, and the struggles of domination by the Persians, Macedonian kings, and the Romans.

Rugged, Splendid Santorinir
From Mykonsos and Delos, we fly to Santorini. Named after St. Irene, Santorini is built on the thick lava of a volcano. Its red-brown craggy rocky soil and unscable cliffs make me feel like a small ant. Part of our sightseeing here consisted of taking a schooner to part of an island to climb to the top and centre of the volcano. After we climbed to the top of the volcano and looked around us, we then struggled to descend back down the narrow rocky pathway returning to our schooner in order to sail off to another corner of the island. Here we dropped anchor and swam in the salty deep blue sea. What a swim it was as we floated like buoys abundantly basking in the sun. One wonders while basking in this beautiful wine-dark sea, how happy and satisfied we should be to live on this truly beautiful planet. After our swim, we drink restina and eat grape leaves stuffed with rice and feel very friendly with the rest of our tour companions. As the day wears on and we’ve completed a stiff climb, a delicious swim, had good food, wine and company, we are now prepared for the most spectacular sunset in the world.

Crete, Knossos, Civilizationr
From Santorini we fly to Crete, the birthplace of the father of all the Olympian gods, Zeus, whose power is represented by the bull and the horns of the bull. At the ancient palace of Knossos, we are guided around the ruins and attempt to soak up the history of this amazing and complex spiritual culture. We are spellbound to learn of the importance of the Double Axe which represented the priest-king’s responsibility for making political and religious decisions and his power over the life and death of his citizens and sacrificial victims.

Cretan society had three principle phases: the Bronze Age during 2800-2200 B.C. which saw the people organized into tribes with no apparent central government. The first palaces governing the land were built during the period of 2200-1550 B.C. and a more stable economy was formed and controlled by the reigning dynasties.

During 1550-1100 B.C., the Golden Age of Crete saw the destruction of the palaces and the beginning of the Mycenaean civilization and the use of a language referred to as Linear B script. Linear B appears to be similar to Greek. The Archaeological Museum in Iraklion, the biggest city on Crete which is also called Heracles after the Greek hero, exhibits precious Minoan jewellery made during 2600-2000 B.C. before the Mycenaean period. In the museum, the famous Phaistos Disk dated between 1700-1600 B.C. is covered on both sides by hieroglyphics arranged in a spiral form towards the centre. The undeciphered hieroglyphics is called Linear A and still puzzles many scholars. The museum also houses beautiful frescos. One beautiful fresco from the Palace of Knossos is the startling fresco depicting the three stages of bull leaping. The young challengers who vaulted the bull required extraordinary skill, dexterity and courage. It is thought that the legend of the Minatuar devouring young men and women came from the many youths killed as a result of participating in this sport.

Athens, Acropolis, the Parthenonr
We continued to be overwhelmed by history and beauty as we jou
eyed to Athens and the Acropolis. The term Acropolis means the city at the peak. At the peak sits the Parthenon which housed sacred religious ceremonies.
Such beauty and glory is presented to us at the small museum close to the Parthenon. One of my favourite museum pieces is the four horses of the charioteer with two heads on each side looking in opposite directions. The effect is to create a sense of tension in stillness while having the feeling of movement.

On Sunday mornings around 10:50 a marching band comes along the street in front of Athens’ Parliament buildings. The band is marching toward the front of the building for the changing of the guards which takes place precisely at 11:00. Two guards in unison perform their ritual march as they move away from their guardhouses, stamp their clogged feet on the heavy stone platform, turn around and march back toward the centre of the platform and are replaced by two other guards. The two relieved guards join the band and march back along the street and out of sight.

On the same Sunday in the evening, we have the splendid pleasure of sitting under the stars in the Odeion of Herodes Atticus amphitheatre and hearing Jeremy Irons recite Ogden Nash’s poems. Within its ghostly windows, craggy walls, arches and niches we experience the elements as that night the clouds came, the wind blew, and the rain fell. We waited until the elemental mood changed and the elements calmed themselves so that Jeremy could read the verses using his deep resonant voice which melted like butter over the atmosphere of the ancient grand amphitheatre. What a confused feeling of time warp I had as ancient ghosts mixed with the homour of Nash and clearly I felt that ”in the world of mules, there are no rules.”

And Nash goes on to say, ”Now we’ve reached the grand finale, on an animalie, carnivalie. Noises new to sea and land, issue from the skillful band. All the strings contort their features, imitating crawly creatures. All the brasses look like mumps from blowing umpah, umpah, umps. In outdoing Barnum and Bailey, and Ringling, Saint Saens has done a miraculous thingling.”

As we reached our grand finale, I contort my brains as I struggle to fit the pieces of the flow of life together. From the sacred sites of Delos, to the ancient palaces of Knossos, the ancient theatre by the Acropolis where Plato and Socrates sat, to the picturesque charm of the Mykonos landscape and especially to the wine-dark salty Aegean Sea and attempt to fit them in with Ogden Nash and Jeremy Irons – To be is to act, to act is to be, do be, do be do.