Off The Island, Onto Another

I stayed on Santorini long enough to see the sunset I showed yesterday.  The island, with its volcanic rock faces dropping directly into the sea, is beautiful.  But it's also full of tourists.  And expensive.

When I got to Oia--the place you see in all of those Instagram photos of Santorini sunsets--it was like being in an older and more beautiful version of Times Square on New Year's Eve.  It's was so crowded that with people taking selfies that you can't do much more than take a selfie--which, as you've probably noticed in this blog, is something I don't do.

It's odd that another New York analogy comes to mind: the road that winds (and I mean winds) its way down to the port of Athinios in a similar way to the Route 495 spur to the Lincoln tunnel.  The difference is that the road to Athinios is about a tenth as wide (or so it seems) and its turns are sharper:  hairpins in a couple of places.  To complicate matters even further, the port itself sits on an improbably small shelf of land in front of a rock face.  So, only one vehicle can reach it at a time and people spend more time waiting in that line of traffic than they did in getting from wherever on the island they came.

One more thing about Santorini:  I saw mules.  Some, it seems, are for tourists while a few others were being used by families who have been living there for generations.  In a day and a half, however, I saw one bicycle.

Anyway, it is worth it to visit Santorini, however briefly, for its natural beauty and, of course, its sunsets.  And, away from the tourist traps, the food is actually quite good, often made from local produce.  Still, I was happy to go to Milos, which the world knows because of Venus de Milo(s).  I took a "Sea Jet", which really is more like riding in the cabin of a plane than a boat, except that you get to see the blue (Yes, it really is!) Aegean and some islands instead of endless clouds.  And the port of Adamas isn't just a port:   There are other things to see and do, which I'll talk about in my next post.  The best part, though, is that it spreads across the shoreline and is not nearly as claustrophobic as Athinios.

Doing As The Athenians Do

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

We've all heard that bit of advice.  Yesterday, I followed it.  Well, sort of.  I scheduled my cycling day as an Athenian might.  Then again, the vast majority of Athenians don't go anywhere near a bike.

Anyway, I spent the first part of my day wandering around the neighborhoods at the base of the Acropolis.  One thing about this city:  Just because some place is at the base of a hill, that doesn't mean it's flat, or anything close to it. Not that I mind.

After wandering, I sauntered into the streetside flea market in Thissio, which is connected by a path just wide enough for three or four people to another, much larger flea market--in a series of arcades, like the one in Saint Ouen--and one of those "can't miss" monuments:  the ancient Agora.  

As you probably know, "agoraphobia" is a fear of being in public or simply exposed.  The agora was a marketplace, but it was also the most public space in ancient Greece or Rome.  Many a planned or impromptu debate took place there.  I can only wonder how the philosophers of that time might talk about some of our current leaders or celebrities.  

Anyway, the Agora wasn't just a place to shop or argue.  On its site were also altars and temples, at least one of which was added by the Romans.  There's even evidence that synagogue occupied part of the site around the third century A.D.

I came to understand very clearly why people who don't want to go outside are called agoraphobics.  On the site, you are exposed physically as those ancient orators were intellectually.  So, after a couple of hours wandering around the site, I could feel the effects of the sun and I ducked into one of the cafes.  It was a tourist trap, but I had only an iced espresso, so my finances didn't take much of a hit.

One nice thing about Greek, Italian and French cafes is that the wait staff are paid decently and thus don't have to rely on tips.  So, even though I ordered only that iced espresso--a double--nobody was rushing me out of that place.

Then I wandered along the pedestrianized street that leads to the Agora, which had a fair amount of shade and cool mist spraying from the canopies over the cafe terraces. After a few minutes, I did an about-face and walked back to the streetside flea market and crossed its path into a leafy little park.  There, I miraculously found a spot on a shaded bench:  It seemed like all Athenians and more than a few other tourists had the same idea!

Around 3:00 pm, I got back on the bike and rode down a few winding streets lined with graffiti into what seemed to be Athens' Inida-town.  I had a destination:  the National Museum of Archaelogy, a bit removed from the other major museums and monuments.  I had time:  the Museum remains open until 8 pm, even on Sunday.  

For most of us, "Ancient Greece" means the time from Socrates to the Roman invasion.  At least, that's what most of us are taught, if we learn anything at all about it.  But, to an archaeologist, "Greece" is almost as old as the human race.  Even if it's older than most other civilizations in Europe--or the West--it's even older than most scholars, let alone the general public, realized until about 50 or so years ago.

If nothing else, you could come away from a visit to the museum thinking--with justification--that nowhere else does pottery-making have more of a history.  Vessels made of clay were used for literally everything imaginable, and were even funerary offerings.  

There was also a great variety of jewelry-making and other kinds of metal- and bead-work.  Given how advanced their techniques, and the level of intricacy of their work, it's almost surprising that nobody built anything resembling a bicycle--unless, perhaps, they used wood or some other material!

Hmm...Maybe they used some of the obsidian rock found on Milos.  Yes, that's the island from which Venus, now found in the Louvre, came.  The particular variety of obsidian found on the island is harder than most any other rock, or metal, and takes on a sharp edge when broken or cut.  So it was used for knives, swords and other instruments.  Even today, it's being used experimentally in surgical instruments.

I wonder if any of those really ancient Greeks took siestas in the middle of scorchingly hot summer days.