First of all, before anything else, I must say that Pompei is beautiful. I mean, it's not a grand mass of everything... it's a bit small, compared to some of the ruins we saw in Greece... but in its own little corner, it's a fascinating spot. Positively beautiful ^^
Okay, back into some sort of cronological order...
The day started with a slightly confusing two-hour train ride through scenic Italy. Of course, we had to be split into two or three separate cabins (if I remember, Chrissy took a nap in an unoccupied cabin). We, being our normal group of Naomi, Katina, Abigail, Patrick, and myself, had a space all to ourselves, and kept ourselves entertained by reading poetry. This was a lot more interesting than it sounds. The height of this experience was hearing Patrick read excerpts from the original The Jungle Book. His flair for the dramatic came out splendidly during the death of Nagini, and I secretly wondered why he hadn't persued acting (possibly as a Shakespearian actor) any farther than his college days.
When we got off the train (a little more complicated than it sounds, really) and transported out to Pompei, we stopped for lunch. We hadn't had our Second Breakfasts, and we were ready to attack any non-human meat that moved. So we sat in an outdoor cafe, and our table (still consisting of our "normal group") ordered five different things to share around the table: lasagna, spaghetti, two different pizzas, and these fried riceball-shaped meat and cheese treats, of which I've yet to find anything better. Patrick and I made a vow to stop by the cafe on the way out of the city and pick up some to go.
As we polished off all five plates, our tour guide came to greet Lee and Papa Phil. Now, I first need to explain the significance of this tour guide: two or three years prior, Lee had taken a different group of students to Rome and Paris (one of these students was my older sister, Kate), and when they had visited Pompei, they had all been assigned to a spectacular tour guide named Alphonso. When Lee had called to make arrangements for our day in Pompei, she had specifically asked for Alphonso again; and, very fortunately, it was Alphonso who came into the cafe that day to reintroduce himself to us. ...erm, well, to Lee and Phil, actually. But close enough.
Alphonso led us through the ancient city, explaining history and culture as he went. It was almost difficult to understand him through his thick Italian accent, but it only made us listen harder and learn more ^^ and he could not only speak Italian and English, but he knew Latin, and conversed with Japanese tourists and sang in French in the colesseum. We finally decided the man was "pentalingual", judging by as many different languages we heard from him.
As he led us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pity at the preserved grounds, and especially after seeing the ash-preserved bodies on display. Who back then could've thought, "Y'know, one day I'm going to be in a museum as a disfigured mummified corpse. Won't that be swell?" Who could've guessed that living in the shadow of a "dormant" volcano would be as living in the shadow of death? I reached out several times to touch parts of the brick walls that were eaten away by the ash, and the inkling of pity turned into a wave of sorrow. What a horrible, horrible way to die...
I suppose that's why I like Pompei so much. It was one of the few places on our tour that inspired a more emotional reaction, rather than awe or joy. I was almost depressed, but I liked it. I wonder how many other tourists come to Pompei, heartbroken for those for whom no one was left to greive?
Aargh. Damn my empathetic nature.
The colusseum wasn't as grandios as I'd pictured it, in all the tales I'd heard of Pompei, but it was still fascinating. Alphonso sang first in Italian (I think... >_< style="font-style: italic;">middle of nowhere. And then the windows started frosting over...
Nah. I wish.
No, it wasn't a bunch of Dementors; we didn't find out 'til the next day that the white smoke had come up over the mountains -- the new Pope had been elected.
Interesting story of the day! After we had dinner that night (and THAT was fun. -_-a a lot of confusion and mostly the fault of Camping Fabulous), we started walking back to the bungalows when I was overcome by severe abdominal pains. It was very inconvenient -we were walking along the side of the road at the time- AND embarrassing, because I couldn't walk! Patrick ended up convincing me into letting him carry me on his back. And Abigail HAD to take a picture of it. >_<* Thanks.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
Rome Is Where The Gelati Is
The next morning was like heaven to us. We not only had breakfast (from the weird underground supermarket), but some managed to get wonderfully hot showers! Unfortunately, I was not one of these lucky people, because the power had gone out in our bungalow after we got into it the night before, and for future reference, it's really, really cold at night if you're not in a bed with two other people.
Ahem.
A bus ride, metro ride, and a bit of walking later, we had our Second Breakfast in the Piazza del Risorgimento. But let me briefly explain the seemingly random nod to Master Tolkien: you see, while our breakfast was filling and wonderfully good, a teenager's metabolism in Rome is significantly higher than in the States. We literally became temporary Hobbits; we'd have breakfast, (and after the terrors of public transit) buy Second Breakfast from street vendors, have lunch about 1:00 or 2:00, buy an afternoon Gelati stop, and finally have dinner sometime after 6:00 or 7:00. I consumed a lot of food on that trip and ended up losing weight instead from all the walking we did.
Hobbitsses...
Around noon, we headed to the Piazza del St. Pietro (of which Patrick found a wonderful online picture here), where crowds bustled with tension; though we hadn't planned it, we were there in the middle of the election of the Pope. Talk about history in the making... ^^ In any case, we looked around for our guide, who was going to take us through the Vatican and St. Peter's. At the foot of the obelisk, we found American-born Mike -- he definitely didn't look the part of a tour guide, but thankfully he erased all doubt from our minds. He was dressed as casually as we all were, and he had such a relatable way of talking that you knew exactly what he'd said and could spout it off to him, even if you didn't know what it meant.
We liked Mike.
The man knew more about the history and art of the Vatican than I know about my own house. He led us around mesmerized for four hours, telling us everything there was to know about Michelangelo and Raphael, to name just a few. When we went to St. Peter's, which was congested with only so many tour groups, he continued with stories of the statues, the church, and the last Pope. We couldn't go to the top, however; with the election of the Pope, we weren't even allowed near the stairs. Hmph.
We left Mike to join Russ at the Spanish Steps. Russ was a tour guide from the same company as Mike, but he was a little newer -- he didn't speak as loud, and he fumbled through a lot of his information... but he had a thick Scottish accent, which kept me happy. ^//^ I'm a sucker for a good Scottish accent.
The best I remember of Russ's tour was the Trevi Fountain (ha. How could I forget that?). Throwing in coins, of course, is tradition... throw in one coin, you'll come back to Rome one day; throw in two coins, you'll come back to Rome and meet your lover; throw in three, and you'll come back, meet your lover, and marry them. I only threw in one, but it was with a wish that I could return to Greece instead of Rome. Hee hee.
By the way, Nutella Gelati with chocolate Gelati is fantastic. XD And if you've never had Nutella before, it's a thick, RICH chocolate-hazelnut spread that goes really well on bread, Saltine crackers, pretzels, or just straight out of the jar in small amounts.
Random note there. Sorry.
We trekked back to Camping Fabulous and, after a long day, we fell blissfully into bed. After all, tomorrow would be our tour of Pompei...
Ahem.
A bus ride, metro ride, and a bit of walking later, we had our Second Breakfast in the Piazza del Risorgimento. But let me briefly explain the seemingly random nod to Master Tolkien: you see, while our breakfast was filling and wonderfully good, a teenager's metabolism in Rome is significantly higher than in the States. We literally became temporary Hobbits; we'd have breakfast, (and after the terrors of public transit) buy Second Breakfast from street vendors, have lunch about 1:00 or 2:00, buy an afternoon Gelati stop, and finally have dinner sometime after 6:00 or 7:00. I consumed a lot of food on that trip and ended up losing weight instead from all the walking we did.
Hobbitsses...
Around noon, we headed to the Piazza del St. Pietro (of which Patrick found a wonderful online picture here), where crowds bustled with tension; though we hadn't planned it, we were there in the middle of the election of the Pope. Talk about history in the making... ^^ In any case, we looked around for our guide, who was going to take us through the Vatican and St. Peter's. At the foot of the obelisk, we found American-born Mike -- he definitely didn't look the part of a tour guide, but thankfully he erased all doubt from our minds. He was dressed as casually as we all were, and he had such a relatable way of talking that you knew exactly what he'd said and could spout it off to him, even if you didn't know what it meant.
We liked Mike.
The man knew more about the history and art of the Vatican than I know about my own house. He led us around mesmerized for four hours, telling us everything there was to know about Michelangelo and Raphael, to name just a few. When we went to St. Peter's, which was congested with only so many tour groups, he continued with stories of the statues, the church, and the last Pope. We couldn't go to the top, however; with the election of the Pope, we weren't even allowed near the stairs. Hmph.
We left Mike to join Russ at the Spanish Steps. Russ was a tour guide from the same company as Mike, but he was a little newer -- he didn't speak as loud, and he fumbled through a lot of his information... but he had a thick Scottish accent, which kept me happy. ^//^ I'm a sucker for a good Scottish accent.
The best I remember of Russ's tour was the Trevi Fountain (ha. How could I forget that?). Throwing in coins, of course, is tradition... throw in one coin, you'll come back to Rome one day; throw in two coins, you'll come back to Rome and meet your lover; throw in three, and you'll come back, meet your lover, and marry them. I only threw in one, but it was with a wish that I could return to Greece instead of Rome. Hee hee.
By the way, Nutella Gelati with chocolate Gelati is fantastic. XD And if you've never had Nutella before, it's a thick, RICH chocolate-hazelnut spread that goes really well on bread, Saltine crackers, pretzels, or just straight out of the jar in small amounts.
Random note there. Sorry.
We trekked back to Camping Fabulous and, after a long day, we fell blissfully into bed. After all, tomorrow would be our tour of Pompei...
Sunday, April 17, 2005
"I knew I should've stayed home today..."
We awoke from our cold slumber (I would've put "hibernation" but it sounded like a medical condition) to a mildly sunny Sunday morning. It was almost too good to be true! Could today really be a happier day for us?
Hmm... let's put it this way: before we left the States, someone suggested we name our to-be scrapbook about the trip "A Series of Unfortunate Events". If I ever find who said that, I will personally strangle them with a Gamecube controller cord.
First came the "Not your bus!" episode. When we tried to board the charter buses with the other reinactors, we got several people talking to us in Italian. They finally found a translator, who struggled through anything from "Where are you from?" to "Where is your group?" in an attempt to help us. We thought she meant, "Where is the REST of your group?". Oh, no; she was asking where our group's bus was. Weellll... we had just hopped on the last available seats to go to the banquet the night before! We didn't have a bus. So when she told us, "This... this not your bus," we panicked. How were we going to get there?
Fortunately, some other group let us jump on with them. The girls (plus Lee and Miss Teri), Jordan, and Andrew rode with the Bacchanalians (which turned out to be a bunch of people singing --in Spanish, wasn't it?-- and bearing the most realistic adhered horns on their heads), and Patrick and Papa Phil jumped on with the group they called "Grumpy-Old-Men-Re-enactors, Italian Edition." It was a short ride, thankfully... I was getting a little wary of the guy across the aisle from me, whose horns looked unreasonably sharp. YIKES.
It was starting to cloud up in the distance as the buses slowed to a halt. And even then, outrproblems continued after they had dropped us off across the street (and nearly a block away) from where the other re-enactors had congregated. Had I known I would have to run across a busy Roman street at Patrick's heels, I would NOT have worn sandals without a heel strap. In any case, we found our way through the crowd to the head of the event (who called himself Nero o_O) and asked him where we were supposed to be. He showed us a paper of "formations" that instead resembled a text version of a pan of lasagna, and cheerfully told us he had to go deal with everyone else and ran off. Dazed, confused, and overtired, we resigned ourselves to stay put between the groups on either side of us. OY. V_Va
Our formation? Naomi and Katina were in the front with their bright, cheerful, and particularly too-thin-for-rain costumes; I was between Patrick and Andrew, and we were second in line; Chrissy and Abigail were behind us; Miss Teri and Lee followed them; and last came Jordan and Jennifer. Papa Phil was on the sidelines, filming the parade. Luckily for him, he had enough camera equipment that no one thought he was one of "those weird Americans" and he was not questioned or stopped by anyone. Phew...
The cool thing was, we got our own flag-carrier! \^^/ She was a nine-year-old Italian girl named Sylvia (and like almost everyone else, she spoke no English) who had either volunteered or been volunteered by her group. Her mother wasn't far off, and she had briefly spoken with Lee (because she spoke enough English) before we set off in our cozy little formation. Sylvia was placed at the front, shyly carrying the American flag she had been given.
As the parade went on, we heard an ominous booming in the distance. My head shot up from where I'd been trying to stare at Katina's ankles, and I swallowed nervously and said, "please tell me that was a drum horribly off-rhythm..." But a loud crack of thunder caused us all to jump. As we had feared, the clouds were getting bigger and darker by the minute, and heading straight for our precession. By the time we had nearly reached the Colosseum, a light shower had started to fall on our heads (and down our necks, which was cold!). The eternal optomists of our group -counting myself- agreed that in a matter of moments, the rain would stop and the sun would be out again.
Ha.
The bottom dropped out of the clouds. In a matter of moments, the rain had gone from an uncomfortable shower to a fabulous downpour. I think the appropriate term, as used throughout the area of the South in which I live, is actually "Gully-warsher" or "frog-strangler." Whatever the case, it was a lot of rain on a lot of people who had no means of shielding themselves. Sylvia, our poor flag-carrier, was taken to the sidewalk by her mother and sheltered under an umbrella; we felt so sorry for her, as frozen and half-drowned as we all were. Andrew took the flag and we reassembled our fleet a little: Patrick was between Naomi and Katina now, and I was between Chrissy and Abigail.
We made a few unscheduled turns along the way, because Nero came and directed us to follow a troupe of dancers and some gladiators through the Forum. Apparently, we were at the "important" end with all the "important" people, though we had done nothing (consciously) to earn the honor. It was weird o_Oa but kinda cool.
Eventually, we joined the rest of the parade, and by the end of it all we had been offered a ride to lunch by a group of guys (Katina wasn't too upset about this) and stood huddled under the only tent for several miles. Trust me, we had just walked those miles, and we knew this was the only place to stand. Plus, it was where the bus would pick us up. And dry. Cold, but dry. We all huddled as tightly as we could, and I ended up resting my forehead on Patrick's back, partially hugging Katina, and squished between Andrew, Naomi, and Abigail. Katina was shivering uncontrollably (as were we all, but I fear her flair for the dramatic was trying and get further sympathy out of our oldest young companion; I was, however, in no position to be skeptical without making others scornful of my disgusting jealousy and ashamed of my utterly selfish behavior), and no one's breathing was regular. Normally I have fear of being trapped in such a crowd, up to the point at which I get violently desperate for personal space or make myself as small as possible and cry, but I suppose this only shows how a basic need can overcome an irrational phobia.
Also, some of us were able to strip their top layers of dripping wet costume, tolerating their mostly wet topmost undershirt (yeah, I was THAT prepared) for when they found a dry place to wear just their middle and lowest undershirts. Oh, and my jeans had been under my costume the whole time with the legs rolled up around my knees. ^^v Hooray for my mother, who taught me to prepare for everything except the end of the world!
The troupe of dancers (all female, and the very same that Patrick and Andrew had... enjoyed... the night before) offered to give Katina a ride in their van, and unbeknowst to Miss Teri, she jumped at the opportunity to be warm and left with them. Soon, our bus came, so we boarded eagerly in hopes that Katina was safe and dry, and that we would be, too. It wasn't much warmer than it had been outside, but our surroundings kept getting better -- at least now we could be cold, wet, and slightly miserable with additional elbow room.
Just think: all this has happened, and it's only just lunchtime!
Okay, we arrived at the restaurant where the other re-enactors had already arrived. We searched desperately for Katina, and we were very surprised to see that she had changed clothes. Now whatever she was wearing, it was blindingly emerald green. She told us that the dancers had borrowed a tablecloth and pinned her together in the bathroom, then frog-marched her in the direction of the closest heater. After we fould our table (which had been reserved), she took us by the hand individually and we all had turns at the heater... oh, the sweet feeling of hot, dry air on your wet skin! By the time I got back to the table, my feet were still blocks of ice, but I didn't care -- I was warm, dry, and soon to be full. And sitting by Patrick. I evilly enjoyed the idea that Katina was probably jealous from the other end of the table. *grin*
In all honesty I don't remember what we had for lunch. It disappeared too fast from my plate for me to become well-acquainted with it. But it was probably pasta ^^a Always a safe bet in Italy, eh? It was probably closer to three or four in the afternoon before we all finished and got out of there.
But our day was still to be eventful yet. Someone -probably with the dancers, because they were everywhere- caught Katina by the shoulder and said, "Be careful, they might want that back!" and pointed to her tablecloth fashion statement. Those of us who were nearest to her (including myself, Papa Phil, Patrick, Naomi, Abigail, and Miss Teri) panicked. Papa Phil quickly told her to bundle up in her jacket and we smuggled her out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, by the time we found our way out, the rest of our group had vanished. We hurriedly searched buses in hopes of finding them, but to no avail (and they were going back to their respective countries, anyway); then we turned and, to our horror, a bus we hadn't checked was speeding off down the street. Wouldn't you know, our group was on that bus, and now we were without a ride.
I want to take a moment to praise Papa Phil. Without him, we would've been completely lost and not nearly as calm as he kept us. He immediately took charge and shuffled us to the nearest bus stop, checked the schedule, and cheerfully told us there would be a bus along in a few minutes. From there, we could navigate back to Camping Fabulous between a couple buses and two or three Metro stops. So, when our bus came, we hopped on and took a seat.
Keep in mind, more than half of our traveling circus was in street clothes, two were in costume, and one was in a tablecloth with a gold hairpiece on her head. It's safe to say we got some weird looks.
After the bus ride, we took the Metro to Termini and Papa Phil decided we should stop and get some food for breakfast the next day. Having had very little to eat that morning, we grimaced at the memory and agreed in unison, and after forty-five minutes in a basement supermarket (which was so cool!), we continued the remainder of our trip. If I failed to mention this before, compared to where we were at that moment, Camping Fabulous was on the end of nowhere. I sorely wished I'd brought a book, because it was going to be a while.
We got to our last bus stop and waited a few minutes for our ride, but night had already fallen and we were getting hungry again. Papa Phil's groceries were looking very tempting... but I reluctantly refrained. After all, it was only going to be a little farther, right?
Right.
In short, we got on the bus, rode, and we were so tired that we forgot to watch where we were being taken. After a little while, Patrick looked suddenly alert and glanced out the window. Then he said, to our horror,
"Dad, wasn't that our stop?"
Oops.
We got off at the next stop, which was a little over a half-mile from our intended destination. So... cold, tired, hungry, sore, and minorly lost, we started walking in the direction from whence we came along the side of the road. I was in the back, wistfully listening to Patrick, Naomi, Katina, and Abigail talk about things I had no idea about. I was sad, because after all we'd been through, they had apparently forgotten to include me. I had tried very, very hard to be their optomist, and still contented myself to believe that I could wait for them to notice how quiet I was. And even though they didn't and continued talking, I trudged along behind them until Miss Teri pulled up alongside me. She and I talked for a little bit, and after a bit of silence between us she requested I walk on the inside with her closer to the road.
As we turned down the road that led to Camping Fabulous, Miss Teri slipped and fell before I could catch her. Katina helped her mom to stand, asking all the usual "are you okay? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?" questions. Then she immediately rounded on me, blaming me for not protecting her mother by walking close to the road instead of making poor Miss Teri do it. I tried to explain, but Katina wouldn't hear of it, and she took Miss Teri farther up and walked between her and Papa Phil. Once again, I was in the back of the group, and I followed them with hot tears of indignation burning in my eyes.
But, we were all tired and miserable again, so perhaps it wasn't her fault I was so angry.
When we got back, we found Lee in utter relief that we had finally returned. She had worried herself sick because the buses wouldn't go back for us, and had held a sit-in at the front desk of Camping Fabulous until our group was either reunited or given better accomodations. Fortunately, both were eventually granted -- we now had heat, hot water, and a dry place to sleep. Oh, joy of all joys!
And as a wise man once said, "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger."
Hmm... let's put it this way: before we left the States, someone suggested we name our to-be scrapbook about the trip "A Series of Unfortunate Events". If I ever find who said that, I will personally strangle them with a Gamecube controller cord.
First came the "Not your bus!" episode. When we tried to board the charter buses with the other reinactors, we got several people talking to us in Italian. They finally found a translator, who struggled through anything from "Where are you from?" to "Where is your group?" in an attempt to help us. We thought she meant, "Where is the REST of your group?". Oh, no; she was asking where our group's bus was. Weellll... we had just hopped on the last available seats to go to the banquet the night before! We didn't have a bus. So when she told us, "This... this not your bus," we panicked. How were we going to get there?
Fortunately, some other group let us jump on with them. The girls (plus Lee and Miss Teri), Jordan, and Andrew rode with the Bacchanalians (which turned out to be a bunch of people singing --in Spanish, wasn't it?-- and bearing the most realistic adhered horns on their heads), and Patrick and Papa Phil jumped on with the group they called "Grumpy-Old-Men-Re-enactors, Italian Edition." It was a short ride, thankfully... I was getting a little wary of the guy across the aisle from me, whose horns looked unreasonably sharp. YIKES.
It was starting to cloud up in the distance as the buses slowed to a halt. And even then, outrproblems continued after they had dropped us off across the street (and nearly a block away) from where the other re-enactors had congregated. Had I known I would have to run across a busy Roman street at Patrick's heels, I would NOT have worn sandals without a heel strap. In any case, we found our way through the crowd to the head of the event (who called himself Nero o_O) and asked him where we were supposed to be. He showed us a paper of "formations" that instead resembled a text version of a pan of lasagna, and cheerfully told us he had to go deal with everyone else and ran off. Dazed, confused, and overtired, we resigned ourselves to stay put between the groups on either side of us. OY. V_Va
Our formation? Naomi and Katina were in the front with their bright, cheerful, and particularly too-thin-for-rain costumes; I was between Patrick and Andrew, and we were second in line; Chrissy and Abigail were behind us; Miss Teri and Lee followed them; and last came Jordan and Jennifer. Papa Phil was on the sidelines, filming the parade. Luckily for him, he had enough camera equipment that no one thought he was one of "those weird Americans" and he was not questioned or stopped by anyone. Phew...
The cool thing was, we got our own flag-carrier! \^^/ She was a nine-year-old Italian girl named Sylvia (and like almost everyone else, she spoke no English) who had either volunteered or been volunteered by her group. Her mother wasn't far off, and she had briefly spoken with Lee (because she spoke enough English) before we set off in our cozy little formation. Sylvia was placed at the front, shyly carrying the American flag she had been given.
As the parade went on, we heard an ominous booming in the distance. My head shot up from where I'd been trying to stare at Katina's ankles, and I swallowed nervously and said, "please tell me that was a drum horribly off-rhythm..." But a loud crack of thunder caused us all to jump. As we had feared, the clouds were getting bigger and darker by the minute, and heading straight for our precession. By the time we had nearly reached the Colosseum, a light shower had started to fall on our heads (and down our necks, which was cold!). The eternal optomists of our group -counting myself- agreed that in a matter of moments, the rain would stop and the sun would be out again.
Ha.
The bottom dropped out of the clouds. In a matter of moments, the rain had gone from an uncomfortable shower to a fabulous downpour. I think the appropriate term, as used throughout the area of the South in which I live, is actually "Gully-warsher" or "frog-strangler." Whatever the case, it was a lot of rain on a lot of people who had no means of shielding themselves. Sylvia, our poor flag-carrier, was taken to the sidewalk by her mother and sheltered under an umbrella; we felt so sorry for her, as frozen and half-drowned as we all were. Andrew took the flag and we reassembled our fleet a little: Patrick was between Naomi and Katina now, and I was between Chrissy and Abigail.
We made a few unscheduled turns along the way, because Nero came and directed us to follow a troupe of dancers and some gladiators through the Forum. Apparently, we were at the "important" end with all the "important" people, though we had done nothing (consciously) to earn the honor. It was weird o_Oa but kinda cool.
Eventually, we joined the rest of the parade, and by the end of it all we had been offered a ride to lunch by a group of guys (Katina wasn't too upset about this) and stood huddled under the only tent for several miles. Trust me, we had just walked those miles, and we knew this was the only place to stand. Plus, it was where the bus would pick us up. And dry. Cold, but dry. We all huddled as tightly as we could, and I ended up resting my forehead on Patrick's back, partially hugging Katina, and squished between Andrew, Naomi, and Abigail. Katina was shivering uncontrollably (as were we all, but I fear her flair for the dramatic was trying and get further sympathy out of our oldest young companion; I was, however, in no position to be skeptical without making others scornful of my disgusting jealousy and ashamed of my utterly selfish behavior), and no one's breathing was regular. Normally I have fear of being trapped in such a crowd, up to the point at which I get violently desperate for personal space or make myself as small as possible and cry, but I suppose this only shows how a basic need can overcome an irrational phobia.
Also, some of us were able to strip their top layers of dripping wet costume, tolerating their mostly wet topmost undershirt (yeah, I was THAT prepared) for when they found a dry place to wear just their middle and lowest undershirts. Oh, and my jeans had been under my costume the whole time with the legs rolled up around my knees. ^^v Hooray for my mother, who taught me to prepare for everything except the end of the world!
The troupe of dancers (all female, and the very same that Patrick and Andrew had... enjoyed... the night before) offered to give Katina a ride in their van, and unbeknowst to Miss Teri, she jumped at the opportunity to be warm and left with them. Soon, our bus came, so we boarded eagerly in hopes that Katina was safe and dry, and that we would be, too. It wasn't much warmer than it had been outside, but our surroundings kept getting better -- at least now we could be cold, wet, and slightly miserable with additional elbow room.
Just think: all this has happened, and it's only just lunchtime!
Okay, we arrived at the restaurant where the other re-enactors had already arrived. We searched desperately for Katina, and we were very surprised to see that she had changed clothes. Now whatever she was wearing, it was blindingly emerald green. She told us that the dancers had borrowed a tablecloth and pinned her together in the bathroom, then frog-marched her in the direction of the closest heater. After we fould our table (which had been reserved), she took us by the hand individually and we all had turns at the heater... oh, the sweet feeling of hot, dry air on your wet skin! By the time I got back to the table, my feet were still blocks of ice, but I didn't care -- I was warm, dry, and soon to be full. And sitting by Patrick. I evilly enjoyed the idea that Katina was probably jealous from the other end of the table. *grin*
In all honesty I don't remember what we had for lunch. It disappeared too fast from my plate for me to become well-acquainted with it. But it was probably pasta ^^a Always a safe bet in Italy, eh? It was probably closer to three or four in the afternoon before we all finished and got out of there.
But our day was still to be eventful yet. Someone -probably with the dancers, because they were everywhere- caught Katina by the shoulder and said, "Be careful, they might want that back!" and pointed to her tablecloth fashion statement. Those of us who were nearest to her (including myself, Papa Phil, Patrick, Naomi, Abigail, and Miss Teri) panicked. Papa Phil quickly told her to bundle up in her jacket and we smuggled her out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, by the time we found our way out, the rest of our group had vanished. We hurriedly searched buses in hopes of finding them, but to no avail (and they were going back to their respective countries, anyway); then we turned and, to our horror, a bus we hadn't checked was speeding off down the street. Wouldn't you know, our group was on that bus, and now we were without a ride.
I want to take a moment to praise Papa Phil. Without him, we would've been completely lost and not nearly as calm as he kept us. He immediately took charge and shuffled us to the nearest bus stop, checked the schedule, and cheerfully told us there would be a bus along in a few minutes. From there, we could navigate back to Camping Fabulous between a couple buses and two or three Metro stops. So, when our bus came, we hopped on and took a seat.
Keep in mind, more than half of our traveling circus was in street clothes, two were in costume, and one was in a tablecloth with a gold hairpiece on her head. It's safe to say we got some weird looks.
After the bus ride, we took the Metro to Termini and Papa Phil decided we should stop and get some food for breakfast the next day. Having had very little to eat that morning, we grimaced at the memory and agreed in unison, and after forty-five minutes in a basement supermarket (which was so cool!), we continued the remainder of our trip. If I failed to mention this before, compared to where we were at that moment, Camping Fabulous was on the end of nowhere. I sorely wished I'd brought a book, because it was going to be a while.
We got to our last bus stop and waited a few minutes for our ride, but night had already fallen and we were getting hungry again. Papa Phil's groceries were looking very tempting... but I reluctantly refrained. After all, it was only going to be a little farther, right?
Right.
In short, we got on the bus, rode, and we were so tired that we forgot to watch where we were being taken. After a little while, Patrick looked suddenly alert and glanced out the window. Then he said, to our horror,
"Dad, wasn't that our stop?"
Oops.
We got off at the next stop, which was a little over a half-mile from our intended destination. So... cold, tired, hungry, sore, and minorly lost, we started walking in the direction from whence we came along the side of the road. I was in the back, wistfully listening to Patrick, Naomi, Katina, and Abigail talk about things I had no idea about. I was sad, because after all we'd been through, they had apparently forgotten to include me. I had tried very, very hard to be their optomist, and still contented myself to believe that I could wait for them to notice how quiet I was. And even though they didn't and continued talking, I trudged along behind them until Miss Teri pulled up alongside me. She and I talked for a little bit, and after a bit of silence between us she requested I walk on the inside with her closer to the road.
As we turned down the road that led to Camping Fabulous, Miss Teri slipped and fell before I could catch her. Katina helped her mom to stand, asking all the usual "are you okay? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?" questions. Then she immediately rounded on me, blaming me for not protecting her mother by walking close to the road instead of making poor Miss Teri do it. I tried to explain, but Katina wouldn't hear of it, and she took Miss Teri farther up and walked between her and Papa Phil. Once again, I was in the back of the group, and I followed them with hot tears of indignation burning in my eyes.
But, we were all tired and miserable again, so perhaps it wasn't her fault I was so angry.
When we got back, we found Lee in utter relief that we had finally returned. She had worried herself sick because the buses wouldn't go back for us, and had held a sit-in at the front desk of Camping Fabulous until our group was either reunited or given better accomodations. Fortunately, both were eventually granted -- we now had heat, hot water, and a dry place to sleep. Oh, joy of all joys!
And as a wise man once said, "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger."
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Dinner and a Show
We grudgingly layered as best we could (I dunno, do you think three shirts ought to do it?) with whatever would blend into our costumes, grabbed our jackets, and trudged out into the cold afternoon. Sunlight was streaming through the breaking clouds, thus holding a bit of hope on the horizon.
Let me go ahead and say, for the record, that this was the second most awkward night of my life. I still keep the slot for "Most Awkward" open, but with the faint hope that there will never BE another.
With the promise of hot water and heat on our return later in the evening, our weary group headed down to the area where the buses were parked; we were in full costume, mind you. The most observant amongst us noted, once we were standing still, that no one else was in costume. Needless to say, a few of our conspiracy theorists (myself included) began to mutter about how the Groupo Historico members were probably laughing at us behind our backs.
It should be noted that, no matter what language you speak, laughing at someone behind their back still sounds the same.
Our spirits a little deflated, we jumped aboard the first bus that let us aboard and went to the banquet. We were thankful we could have our jackets -- that way, only half of us looked out of place! Most of the girls looked like they had long dresses underneath their jackets; the poor guys, however, still stood out. *snickers* In any case, the locals thought we were pretty cool. Or, at least, we hope that's why they were pointing at us like that...
There wasn't much of a seating arrangement, but when we got to our table I landed inbetween Patrick and Andrew. I mostly listened to everyone else's conversations as the food came (to be honest, I wasn't feeling well that night, and didn't feel much like talking), but I soon figured out that I really didn't NEED to listen. See, some of the entertainment that evening was a troupe of dancers. Belly-dancers. And I was seated between two guys who were undeniably male. ...and that sounds a lot worse than it really was. I merely got an involuntary glance into the masculine train of thought, and it wasn't much I didn't already know. I can guess what most guys look at.
However, when I heard Andrew "Mmm..." in my ear, I drew the line.
The following dance numbers went by with this commentary flying over my head. Now, I understand Patrick to have a background with a bit of ballroom dancing (and I forgot to ask him to show me how to tango! Gah!), and I think part of his brain was actually watching the dancing for the art of the dance. I also think the rest of his brain was mush at the time, or at least making noises like "Mwaaa...."
Then there was the beauty pagent... and you can guess how that went.
We left the banquet that night with hopes of heat, hot water, and warm blankets back at the campground. But we weren't so lucky -- when we got back, the rooms were freezing cold, and we were still unwashed with no intent of bathing in ice water. That night, we climbed into bed cold, tired, dirty, and in prayer for good weather over the parade.
Ha.
Let me go ahead and say, for the record, that this was the second most awkward night of my life. I still keep the slot for "Most Awkward" open, but with the faint hope that there will never BE another.
With the promise of hot water and heat on our return later in the evening, our weary group headed down to the area where the buses were parked; we were in full costume, mind you. The most observant amongst us noted, once we were standing still, that no one else was in costume. Needless to say, a few of our conspiracy theorists (myself included) began to mutter about how the Groupo Historico members were probably laughing at us behind our backs.
It should be noted that, no matter what language you speak, laughing at someone behind their back still sounds the same.
Our spirits a little deflated, we jumped aboard the first bus that let us aboard and went to the banquet. We were thankful we could have our jackets -- that way, only half of us looked out of place! Most of the girls looked like they had long dresses underneath their jackets; the poor guys, however, still stood out. *snickers* In any case, the locals thought we were pretty cool. Or, at least, we hope that's why they were pointing at us like that...
There wasn't much of a seating arrangement, but when we got to our table I landed inbetween Patrick and Andrew. I mostly listened to everyone else's conversations as the food came (to be honest, I wasn't feeling well that night, and didn't feel much like talking), but I soon figured out that I really didn't NEED to listen. See, some of the entertainment that evening was a troupe of dancers. Belly-dancers. And I was seated between two guys who were undeniably male. ...and that sounds a lot worse than it really was. I merely got an involuntary glance into the masculine train of thought, and it wasn't much I didn't already know. I can guess what most guys look at.
However, when I heard Andrew "Mmm..." in my ear, I drew the line.
The following dance numbers went by with this commentary flying over my head. Now, I understand Patrick to have a background with a bit of ballroom dancing (and I forgot to ask him to show me how to tango! Gah!), and I think part of his brain was actually watching the dancing for the art of the dance. I also think the rest of his brain was mush at the time, or at least making noises like "Mwaaa...."
Then there was the beauty pagent... and you can guess how that went.
We left the banquet that night with hopes of heat, hot water, and warm blankets back at the campground. But we weren't so lucky -- when we got back, the rooms were freezing cold, and we were still unwashed with no intent of bathing in ice water. That night, we climbed into bed cold, tired, dirty, and in prayer for good weather over the parade.
Ha.
656 Miles of Bad Road
According to Airport Accomodations, the distance from Athens to Rome is appoxomately 656 miles (1055.5 km).
This is where the problems begin.
We set out early (too early) for the Athens airport after bidding farewell to Adrienne, who was leaving for London later that day. There was more adventuring in the metro, which can even be more exciting at six in the morning when you're not sure what you're doing! Gyaaaah... _-_ Lee didn't force any of the students to lead --YAY-- because none of us were awake enough. We made it to the Athens airport, through the ticket desk, through security, and then we waited.
And waited.
It wasn't an incredibly long time, but in the morning my sense of time is a little, er... disoriented. So to pass the time, some slept, others wandered around in search of food, and still more shared mp3 players. Now, thanks to my Comedy playlist, I think Naomi, Abigail, and Patrick won't be able to walk through a metal detector straight-faced ever again. Bwahahaa...
As we sat in the airport, we suddenly heard a loud -WHUMP- from behind were Naomi and Patrick were sitting. We all turned to look just as Katina sat up (on the floor), looking around wildly. She had been sleeping on the bench and, unfortunately, rolled off onto the hard floor. We tried not to laugh, honestly we did... but it couldn't be helped ^^a Poor Katina.
So we finally boarded the plane, injuries and all, and were on our way to view the wonders of Rome. The flight was a bit rough on both Miss Teri and Katina, and while I didn't have much fun myself, the airsick ones took most of my attention (especially because Miss Teri was beside me, and I was afraid I'd join her if she decided to revisit her breakfast). Katina had fun napping on Patrick's shoulder. o_O Cozy, were we?
But we were about to get very, very uncomfortable.
See, there's a bit of backstory. We were invited (through a series of e-mails) to join the yearly Founding of Rome parade; all of us, a little group of homeschoolers from Alabama, were going to be the first group of Americans to ever walk in the parade. It was a great honor, and a few of us were excited about it. Now... the arrangements Lee had made with the historical reinactors (Groupo Historico... no, I'm not joking) were that someone was supposed to meet us after we landed and made our way through customs. When we finally got our luggage and walked past every sign-carrying pedestrian, there was no member of the historical group to meet us. Odd. So, we sat in the airport until Papa Phil realized they had been waiting for us outside. Our spirits lifted. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad...
*involuntary eye twitch begins*
Exiting the airport, we were hit head-on by a steady rain and a cold wind. Oh, joy. It took me a minute to realize that the strange Italian guys wearing the nuclear highlighter-yellow vests were taking our luggage because they were from Groupo Historico, and I hoped to heaven that their cargo van had seats enough for all of us. Unfortunately, I was wrong: it was a van with only seats in the front and room for luggage in the back. Ha. It was awkward for the first few seconds, but when the first drop of rain made its way down my neck, I was willing to sit ANYWHERE that would be potentially dry.
So, with five in the front (counting the driver) and the rest in the back (including Mr. Blinding Vest who didn't speak a lick of English) sitting on top of luggage, we set out. And when I say "set out", it's because "drive" is too good a word for our method of transportation. I was very, very glad I was sitting in the back staring at fogged-up windows, because if the swerving was any hint, I did not want to see where we were going. At one point, the van went into the emergency lane almost on top of a motorcyclist, who protested a bit at the driver's act of playing the "I'm Bigger Than You" card. o_o Eeek...!
It should be known that, in any part of Europe, the lines on the road are only for perspective.
We finally arrived at Camping Fabulous, where we were to stay with the other traveling reinactors. Unfortunately, the van dumped us out in the rain with only our luggage and a prayer before leaving for more... er... duties, I guess. And while Lee went into the welcoming center to get the keys to our rooms, those of us with umbrellas stood outside in the mud. We were still cold, half-drowned, and our luggage was getting very wet as well. My inner cat's ears were flat on her head.
[note: some in our group still consider "fabulous" to be a mild swear word in Italian. Long after the trip, we continued to use "fabulous" in a sarcastic manner... or just to hear someone else from our group laugh.]
It seemed an eternity until Lee and Phil emerged with keys and directions. Now, the place where we stood had promise: the so-called "bungalows" nearby looked like glorified trailers, and made me feel like we were back in the South. However, when we were led through the rain and mud dragging our suitcases behind us, ours were a bit less, well.... just less. We really didn't care, though; it held promise of a dry, warm place out of the rain.
Well, at least it was dry.
All of the rooms were cold, had non-working heaters, no blankets, and no hot water. Whee. So, we (myself, Chrissy, and Jennifer) put our muddy suitcases in the dryest places possible, stashed our umbrellas in the shower stall, and headed nextdoor to Naomi, Katina, and Abigail's room. They made us wipe our feet and remove our shoes before we could venture farther in, and while the room was warmer than ours had been, it smelled of sweaty feet in there. Jennifer disappeared to find Jordan so she could talk to Lee (I will refrain from any sarcastic comments I might have), and I stayed for a little bit before leaving with Katina and Chrissy to visit the guys. I was getting tired of smelling other's feet.
Okay, so my intent was to visit... Katina's was to so if they had enjoyed the watered-down juice she'd given them earlier. They hadn't, but didn't let on; actually, they had a bit of fun about it with her. ^^ Very amusing. But, when we all tried to visit Lee, she was clear in communicating her disatisfaction with Camping Fabulous and further frustration, and literally kicked us out before we had chance to set foot inside.
Hmm. Our Fearless Leader is not having a good day. It was our job, then, to keep our spirits up and maintain a cheerful outlook. At least none of us had died of hypothermia yet! ^^a
I asked Patrick to come look at the heater in my/our room, because we had seen from the doorway that Lee's was working. He and I headed back around to the cold room, and upon investigation, we flipped the circut breaker and Viola!, it lived! Almost. It still wasn't putting out warm air, and would reset itself when we tried to adjust it. Ha, ha, very funny.
However, now comes the tangent dealing with the doors. All of our doors had at least one issue with them: two of them would not latch unless locked with the deadbolt, one's handle would fall off in your hand (though Katina was able to climb out the window and open it from the outside), and the door to my room would latch a little too well. As in, I had to throw my shoulder against it the first time before it let me out. Patrick thought that our door was like his, and that we'd latched it upon entering the first time. Whoops. He accidentally locked the deadbolt, and then we couldn't remember which way to turn it to open the door again!
So, as Patrick patiently fiddled with the lock, he turned his head to grin at me. "Oh, by the way, you're trapped for now."
My first thought was, 'Oh my. I can't wait to explain how I ended up in a locked room with the most eligible bachelor on the trip.'
And just as he was readying himself to climb out the window, I shoved against the door and (luckily for me, who could've ended up with a broken shoulder) it finally opened. o_o Boy, that was fun.
Another crisis averted. But when we had all regrouped in the warmest, least threatening room (the other girls' room), Lee came in to give us very bittersweet news: we were still going to the banquet for the reinactors tonight ...we kinda had to, anyway... and by the time we got back that night, we should have hot water. With that carrot dangling in front of us, we almost didn't notice when she reminded us to dress in costume.
Hang on... what was that? Costume? The students had all been under the impression we could wear our warm, comfortable streetclothes instead of our non-rain resistant Roman garb. Evidentally not... Lee had been told that the reinactors should be in costume. Well... fine, if everyone else was doing it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
And that was the point we relearned the phrase "Famous last words."
This is where the problems begin.
We set out early (too early) for the Athens airport after bidding farewell to Adrienne, who was leaving for London later that day. There was more adventuring in the metro, which can even be more exciting at six in the morning when you're not sure what you're doing! Gyaaaah... _-_ Lee didn't force any of the students to lead --YAY-- because none of us were awake enough. We made it to the Athens airport, through the ticket desk, through security, and then we waited.
And waited.
It wasn't an incredibly long time, but in the morning my sense of time is a little, er... disoriented. So to pass the time, some slept, others wandered around in search of food, and still more shared mp3 players. Now, thanks to my Comedy playlist, I think Naomi, Abigail, and Patrick won't be able to walk through a metal detector straight-faced ever again. Bwahahaa...
As we sat in the airport, we suddenly heard a loud -WHUMP- from behind were Naomi and Patrick were sitting. We all turned to look just as Katina sat up (on the floor), looking around wildly. She had been sleeping on the bench and, unfortunately, rolled off onto the hard floor. We tried not to laugh, honestly we did... but it couldn't be helped ^^a Poor Katina.
So we finally boarded the plane, injuries and all, and were on our way to view the wonders of Rome. The flight was a bit rough on both Miss Teri and Katina, and while I didn't have much fun myself, the airsick ones took most of my attention (especially because Miss Teri was beside me, and I was afraid I'd join her if she decided to revisit her breakfast). Katina had fun napping on Patrick's shoulder. o_O Cozy, were we?
But we were about to get very, very uncomfortable.
See, there's a bit of backstory. We were invited (through a series of e-mails) to join the yearly Founding of Rome parade; all of us, a little group of homeschoolers from Alabama, were going to be the first group of Americans to ever walk in the parade. It was a great honor, and a few of us were excited about it. Now... the arrangements Lee had made with the historical reinactors (Groupo Historico... no, I'm not joking) were that someone was supposed to meet us after we landed and made our way through customs. When we finally got our luggage and walked past every sign-carrying pedestrian, there was no member of the historical group to meet us. Odd. So, we sat in the airport until Papa Phil realized they had been waiting for us outside. Our spirits lifted. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad...
*involuntary eye twitch begins*
Exiting the airport, we were hit head-on by a steady rain and a cold wind. Oh, joy. It took me a minute to realize that the strange Italian guys wearing the nuclear highlighter-yellow vests were taking our luggage because they were from Groupo Historico, and I hoped to heaven that their cargo van had seats enough for all of us. Unfortunately, I was wrong: it was a van with only seats in the front and room for luggage in the back. Ha. It was awkward for the first few seconds, but when the first drop of rain made its way down my neck, I was willing to sit ANYWHERE that would be potentially dry.
So, with five in the front (counting the driver) and the rest in the back (including Mr. Blinding Vest who didn't speak a lick of English) sitting on top of luggage, we set out. And when I say "set out", it's because "drive" is too good a word for our method of transportation. I was very, very glad I was sitting in the back staring at fogged-up windows, because if the swerving was any hint, I did not want to see where we were going. At one point, the van went into the emergency lane almost on top of a motorcyclist, who protested a bit at the driver's act of playing the "I'm Bigger Than You" card. o_o Eeek...!
It should be known that, in any part of Europe, the lines on the road are only for perspective.
We finally arrived at Camping Fabulous, where we were to stay with the other traveling reinactors. Unfortunately, the van dumped us out in the rain with only our luggage and a prayer before leaving for more... er... duties, I guess. And while Lee went into the welcoming center to get the keys to our rooms, those of us with umbrellas stood outside in the mud. We were still cold, half-drowned, and our luggage was getting very wet as well. My inner cat's ears were flat on her head.
[note: some in our group still consider "fabulous" to be a mild swear word in Italian. Long after the trip, we continued to use "fabulous" in a sarcastic manner... or just to hear someone else from our group laugh.]
It seemed an eternity until Lee and Phil emerged with keys and directions. Now, the place where we stood had promise: the so-called "bungalows" nearby looked like glorified trailers, and made me feel like we were back in the South. However, when we were led through the rain and mud dragging our suitcases behind us, ours were a bit less, well.... just less. We really didn't care, though; it held promise of a dry, warm place out of the rain.
Well, at least it was dry.
All of the rooms were cold, had non-working heaters, no blankets, and no hot water. Whee. So, we (myself, Chrissy, and Jennifer) put our muddy suitcases in the dryest places possible, stashed our umbrellas in the shower stall, and headed nextdoor to Naomi, Katina, and Abigail's room. They made us wipe our feet and remove our shoes before we could venture farther in, and while the room was warmer than ours had been, it smelled of sweaty feet in there. Jennifer disappeared to find Jordan so she could talk to Lee (I will refrain from any sarcastic comments I might have), and I stayed for a little bit before leaving with Katina and Chrissy to visit the guys. I was getting tired of smelling other's feet.
Okay, so my intent was to visit... Katina's was to so if they had enjoyed the watered-down juice she'd given them earlier. They hadn't, but didn't let on; actually, they had a bit of fun about it with her. ^^ Very amusing. But, when we all tried to visit Lee, she was clear in communicating her disatisfaction with Camping Fabulous and further frustration, and literally kicked us out before we had chance to set foot inside.
Hmm. Our Fearless Leader is not having a good day. It was our job, then, to keep our spirits up and maintain a cheerful outlook. At least none of us had died of hypothermia yet! ^^a
I asked Patrick to come look at the heater in my/our room, because we had seen from the doorway that Lee's was working. He and I headed back around to the cold room, and upon investigation, we flipped the circut breaker and Viola!, it lived! Almost. It still wasn't putting out warm air, and would reset itself when we tried to adjust it. Ha, ha, very funny.
However, now comes the tangent dealing with the doors. All of our doors had at least one issue with them: two of them would not latch unless locked with the deadbolt, one's handle would fall off in your hand (though Katina was able to climb out the window and open it from the outside), and the door to my room would latch a little too well. As in, I had to throw my shoulder against it the first time before it let me out. Patrick thought that our door was like his, and that we'd latched it upon entering the first time. Whoops. He accidentally locked the deadbolt, and then we couldn't remember which way to turn it to open the door again!
So, as Patrick patiently fiddled with the lock, he turned his head to grin at me. "Oh, by the way, you're trapped for now."
My first thought was, 'Oh my. I can't wait to explain how I ended up in a locked room with the most eligible bachelor on the trip.'
And just as he was readying himself to climb out the window, I shoved against the door and (luckily for me, who could've ended up with a broken shoulder) it finally opened. o_o Boy, that was fun.
Another crisis averted. But when we had all regrouped in the warmest, least threatening room (the other girls' room), Lee came in to give us very bittersweet news: we were still going to the banquet for the reinactors tonight ...we kinda had to, anyway... and by the time we got back that night, we should have hot water. With that carrot dangling in front of us, we almost didn't notice when she reminded us to dress in costume.
Hang on... what was that? Costume? The students had all been under the impression we could wear our warm, comfortable streetclothes instead of our non-rain resistant Roman garb. Evidentally not... Lee had been told that the reinactors should be in costume. Well... fine, if everyone else was doing it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
And that was the point we relearned the phrase "Famous last words."
Friday, April 15, 2005
One Day More
*hums "One Day More" to herself as she types*
We started out the day by learning how to use the Greek metro system! Lee has a tradition of picking a student at random, handing them a metro map, and saying, "We need to get to this stop, and no fair getting help from other students. Lead on!" Naomi was the first victim that morning, and she got us to the Acropolis with great ease. Yay, Naomi! *waves her fan-fans about Animeishly*
Since we had more than ten minutes to spend at the Acropolis, we wandered around outside, had pictures taken, and even heard a very touching story: when Greece was invaded by the German army, the caretaker of the Greek flag was ordered to take it down from its spot of honor overlooking the city. When he finally did as commanded, he wrapped it around himself and jumped over the side of the mountain to his death. Wow... that's what I call ultimate devotion. But we had to move on to the museum, and there was little time to dwell on the subject.
Inside the museum were the usual statues, artifacts, but a few things did stand out to me: a mostly whole statue of a dog (a greyhound, maybe?), a horse and his horseman's leg, two separate reliefs depicting the gods, and a load of schoolkids. ...okay, the last wasn't an exhibit, but it's one of the things I remember best about the place. o_O Attack of the rabid munchkins! Run awaaay!
*regains her composure*
Yeah. Anyway, we lost Patrick and Adrienne to laundry duties about halfway through the museum, and at the same time Katina and Miss Teri left to visit with their Greek family living nearby. The rest of us left and, after a few long moments of debate, headed off in search of another museum! Yay. _-_ It was a beautiful day outside... why did we have to do all the inside stuff today?
Turned out that, on our way down the street, we randomly came across a street musician and his two sons as they played their music on a bench in the shade. Eager to get out of the sun (we had been walking for a few minutes already), we sat down to listen to them, and Lee bought a CD of theirs. When they asked if anyone else would like to play with them, Jordan (to our surprise) volunteered and sat down with the eldest son's guitar; he played a very good rendition of Classical Gas, and the other two (the father and the younger son) improvised with him. It was wonderful ^^ but maybe I'm biased, because I love good guitar music. Mwaaaah...
We left them after that, only to run into a bunch of guys wearing skirts.
Er... ^^a
It's not as bad as it sounds; they were wearing kilts, not skirts. And, since Naomi's dad plays the bagpipes, when she saw the kilts she thought it was a group of Scotsmen touristing the area and wanted a picture of them. In reality, they were a British rugby team who, when traveling, arrive at the airport with only a jockstrap and a passport and are all given costumes to wear during their trip. Last time, they had been dressed as sailors, and a girl had wanted a picture of them because her father was a sailor. Ironic. ^^a But Naomi got her picture, we got to talk to a bunch of British guys, and one of them even tried to put his tongue in her ear. She was not amused ^^ but we were.
After a while longer of walking around looking for our original destination, we got so horribly turned around that we ended up almost lost. When we were told the museum was "outside of the metro stop", we figured that it was as you came out. Not so. You had to walk past the metro stop before you found the entrance! The museum was partially still under construction still, but we got to see what it would look like (yay for tiny models with teeny-tiny people models!) when finished.
So, filing out, we headed down a little ways farther for a few shopping stops! We managed our way through our first store, and while some of us were still finishing, we heard a commotion outside; people were laughing, hooting, and wolf-whistling at something or someone. I didn't think anything of it until I heard Jordan start laughing as well, and Abigail came back into the store with a very red face. It turned out that the rugby players from earlier were making a bit of a name for themselves outside showing off, well... their manhood.
There was a bit of a full moon out, to say the least. And I was very fortunate to have missed it. *grins weakly* I'd already seen way too many statues thus far that trampled my remaining innocence, but I wasn't going to tempt fate.
We had lunch (thankfully, it was uninterrupted) and made our first of very many Gelati stops.
P|-|34R T3|-| L337 G3L471!
*beats Largo back from her keyboard with a stick*
Sorry. Anyway, after that, we wandered around until we found Greek Orthodox church to look around. Beautiful artwork, and amazing architecture. Absolutely breathtaking! ^^ W00T! And from there, we split into groups; some made their way back to the hotel, others went shopping. I wanted some worry beads I'd seen the night before, and I knew exactly who I would give them to, so I stayed with the shoppers.
By the time we returned to the hotel, there was time for a five-minute nap before setting out for the highest point in the city, Lykabettos Hill. We wanted to see the sunset from the top, but when we got there, the sun had already sunk behind the mountains. Oops. Ah, well, the view was still incredible ^^a And we had walked too many flights of stairs to not take pictures, so we took LOADS of shots before heading back down.
Dinner was caught on the way back, and when we hit the hotel, I turned in early. Everyone else stayed up on the roof, laughing and carrying on until all hours of the night.
We started out the day by learning how to use the Greek metro system! Lee has a tradition of picking a student at random, handing them a metro map, and saying, "We need to get to this stop, and no fair getting help from other students. Lead on!" Naomi was the first victim that morning, and she got us to the Acropolis with great ease. Yay, Naomi! *waves her fan-fans about Animeishly*
Since we had more than ten minutes to spend at the Acropolis, we wandered around outside, had pictures taken, and even heard a very touching story: when Greece was invaded by the German army, the caretaker of the Greek flag was ordered to take it down from its spot of honor overlooking the city. When he finally did as commanded, he wrapped it around himself and jumped over the side of the mountain to his death. Wow... that's what I call ultimate devotion. But we had to move on to the museum, and there was little time to dwell on the subject.
Inside the museum were the usual statues, artifacts, but a few things did stand out to me: a mostly whole statue of a dog (a greyhound, maybe?), a horse and his horseman's leg, two separate reliefs depicting the gods, and a load of schoolkids. ...okay, the last wasn't an exhibit, but it's one of the things I remember best about the place. o_O Attack of the rabid munchkins! Run awaaay!
*regains her composure*
Yeah. Anyway, we lost Patrick and Adrienne to laundry duties about halfway through the museum, and at the same time Katina and Miss Teri left to visit with their Greek family living nearby. The rest of us left and, after a few long moments of debate, headed off in search of another museum! Yay. _-_ It was a beautiful day outside... why did we have to do all the inside stuff today?
Turned out that, on our way down the street, we randomly came across a street musician and his two sons as they played their music on a bench in the shade. Eager to get out of the sun (we had been walking for a few minutes already), we sat down to listen to them, and Lee bought a CD of theirs. When they asked if anyone else would like to play with them, Jordan (to our surprise) volunteered and sat down with the eldest son's guitar; he played a very good rendition of Classical Gas, and the other two (the father and the younger son) improvised with him. It was wonderful ^^ but maybe I'm biased, because I love good guitar music. Mwaaaah...
We left them after that, only to run into a bunch of guys wearing skirts.
Er... ^^a
It's not as bad as it sounds; they were wearing kilts, not skirts. And, since Naomi's dad plays the bagpipes, when she saw the kilts she thought it was a group of Scotsmen touristing the area and wanted a picture of them. In reality, they were a British rugby team who, when traveling, arrive at the airport with only a jockstrap and a passport and are all given costumes to wear during their trip. Last time, they had been dressed as sailors, and a girl had wanted a picture of them because her father was a sailor. Ironic. ^^a But Naomi got her picture, we got to talk to a bunch of British guys, and one of them even tried to put his tongue in her ear. She was not amused ^^ but we were.
After a while longer of walking around looking for our original destination, we got so horribly turned around that we ended up almost lost. When we were told the museum was "outside of the metro stop", we figured that it was as you came out. Not so. You had to walk past the metro stop before you found the entrance! The museum was partially still under construction still, but we got to see what it would look like (yay for tiny models with teeny-tiny people models!) when finished.
So, filing out, we headed down a little ways farther for a few shopping stops! We managed our way through our first store, and while some of us were still finishing, we heard a commotion outside; people were laughing, hooting, and wolf-whistling at something or someone. I didn't think anything of it until I heard Jordan start laughing as well, and Abigail came back into the store with a very red face. It turned out that the rugby players from earlier were making a bit of a name for themselves outside showing off, well... their manhood.
There was a bit of a full moon out, to say the least. And I was very fortunate to have missed it. *grins weakly* I'd already seen way too many statues thus far that trampled my remaining innocence, but I wasn't going to tempt fate.
We had lunch (thankfully, it was uninterrupted) and made our first of very many Gelati stops.
P|-|34R T3|-| L337 G3L471!
*beats Largo back from her keyboard with a stick*
Sorry. Anyway, after that, we wandered around until we found Greek Orthodox church to look around. Beautiful artwork, and amazing architecture. Absolutely breathtaking! ^^ W00T! And from there, we split into groups; some made their way back to the hotel, others went shopping. I wanted some worry beads I'd seen the night before, and I knew exactly who I would give them to, so I stayed with the shoppers.
By the time we returned to the hotel, there was time for a five-minute nap before setting out for the highest point in the city, Lykabettos Hill. We wanted to see the sunset from the top, but when we got there, the sun had already sunk behind the mountains. Oops. Ah, well, the view was still incredible ^^a And we had walked too many flights of stairs to not take pictures, so we took LOADS of shots before heading back down.
Dinner was caught on the way back, and when we hit the hotel, I turned in early. Everyone else stayed up on the roof, laughing and carrying on until all hours of the night.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
"It's dark in here... and we may die."
We began our drive back to Athens in the morning, but there were a few stops to make on the way. The first, to all our thesbians' delight, was the Temple of Epidaurius. It has a well-known ampitheater and museum, and while the former is more famous than the latter, the latter was fascinating to me. One of the display cases held ancient medical tools, and for some reason, I was awed by seeing a very old pair of tweasers.
Go figure. ^^a
Vickie showed us out of the museum (after telling us where they kept all the, er... removed necessities from some of the statues) and led us to the theater. It was a bit odd at first, to be honest, but that was before we were shown the remarkable acoustics. As we sat scattered about the theater and Vickie stood centerstage, the people stationed at the top could hear her (without raising her voice) as clearly as the people in the middle and front rows. ^^ Incredible!
Then, we drove to Agamemnon's acropolis/tomb in Mycenae to see more ruins, more mountains, an olive tree grove, and multiple reasons as to why I brought a small yet high-powered flashlight! There were amazing artifacts in the museum --I personally enjoyed seeing the old swords, armor, and jewelry-- and impressive views of the olive groves. Once outside we hiked up MORE inclines (at this point in the trip, we're a little tired of hills and stairs) to see the actual fortress atop the small mountain. Cool views of the ocean, and more bee-infested flowers everywhere, so I stuck close to Lee for a bit before joining Andrew and Patrick for our self-guided tour of the cistern.
(Check Patrick's blog for the adventure in the cistern -- he retells it wonderfully. And this post's title will make sense after reading it, as well.)
The tomb was dark, empty, and... well... crowded. A lot of other high school groups were there, and some of the guys were having fun listening to loud flatulent noises echo in the hollow rooms. Wheee.
Next, the jaw-dropping height of the Corinthian Canal. We took pictures on the bridge, crossed the busy street (roadkill, anyone?), and took more pictures before splitting up for lunch. Patrick and Adrienne disappeared, Abigail and I went to the Greek version of McDonald's (called Goody's... not the clothing store, to our surprise), and everyone else had 50u\/l4k1. I was actually very pleased with Goody's; my burger, called the Golden Burger, was a normal hamburger with mayo, lettuce, tomato, and parmesan. The parmesan was a fascinating touch. Maybe I'll try some on a Big Mac when I get home ^^a
Vickie and Yorgos kindly drove us to the Acropolis, where we said our goodbyes (and everyone had to take pictures, of course) and tried to get in to see the site. ...some of us flashed our student ID's and ran in before we realized that we only had about ten minutes, five of which you spend running (not walking) up flights of stairs. _-_ Needless to say, we had a bit of trouble reining back on our two fastest walkers, Chrissy and Katina. Adrienne and I went back for them in hopes the four of us wouldn't be kicked out.
After that, we wandered down and around Athens, found souvenirs to buy for the folks back home, and regrouped at the hotel. We split off from there to find food, and the group I followed (consisting of Miss Teri, Katina, Naomi, and Abigail) found the BEST 50u\/l4k1 pita place in Athens! ^^
Go figure. ^^a
Vickie showed us out of the museum (after telling us where they kept all the, er... removed necessities from some of the statues) and led us to the theater. It was a bit odd at first, to be honest, but that was before we were shown the remarkable acoustics. As we sat scattered about the theater and Vickie stood centerstage, the people stationed at the top could hear her (without raising her voice) as clearly as the people in the middle and front rows. ^^ Incredible!
Then, we drove to Agamemnon's acropolis/tomb in Mycenae to see more ruins, more mountains, an olive tree grove, and multiple reasons as to why I brought a small yet high-powered flashlight! There were amazing artifacts in the museum --I personally enjoyed seeing the old swords, armor, and jewelry-- and impressive views of the olive groves. Once outside we hiked up MORE inclines (at this point in the trip, we're a little tired of hills and stairs) to see the actual fortress atop the small mountain. Cool views of the ocean, and more bee-infested flowers everywhere, so I stuck close to Lee for a bit before joining Andrew and Patrick for our self-guided tour of the cistern.
(Check Patrick's blog for the adventure in the cistern -- he retells it wonderfully. And this post's title will make sense after reading it, as well.)
The tomb was dark, empty, and... well... crowded. A lot of other high school groups were there, and some of the guys were having fun listening to loud flatulent noises echo in the hollow rooms. Wheee.
Next, the jaw-dropping height of the Corinthian Canal. We took pictures on the bridge, crossed the busy street (roadkill, anyone?), and took more pictures before splitting up for lunch. Patrick and Adrienne disappeared, Abigail and I went to the Greek version of McDonald's (called Goody's... not the clothing store, to our surprise), and everyone else had 50u\/l4k1. I was actually very pleased with Goody's; my burger, called the Golden Burger, was a normal hamburger with mayo, lettuce, tomato, and parmesan. The parmesan was a fascinating touch. Maybe I'll try some on a Big Mac when I get home ^^a
Vickie and Yorgos kindly drove us to the Acropolis, where we said our goodbyes (and everyone had to take pictures, of course) and tried to get in to see the site. ...some of us flashed our student ID's and ran in before we realized that we only had about ten minutes, five of which you spend running (not walking) up flights of stairs. _-_ Needless to say, we had a bit of trouble reining back on our two fastest walkers, Chrissy and Katina. Adrienne and I went back for them in hopes the four of us wouldn't be kicked out.
After that, we wandered down and around Athens, found souvenirs to buy for the folks back home, and regrouped at the hotel. We split off from there to find food, and the group I followed (consisting of Miss Teri, Katina, Naomi, and Abigail) found the BEST 50u\/l4k1 pita place in Athens! ^^
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
A Cold, Hard Rain
"It was raining in the city; a cold, hard rain."
Eh, too much Star Trek: TNG.
Recovering after a long night was interesting, especially with the promise of breakfast the next morning. It's strange; after starting the trip with no desire for breakfast, the habit has been drilled into my body's busy schedule. We visited a pastry shop (again) before heading out for the original site of the Olympic Games and the wonderous temple dedicated to Zeus. There was even a restored column from the original temple! Sadly, earthquakes had hit the area so much that there wasn't much but foundations and a few walls of the buildings. We wandered around, halfway listening to Vickie, until we found the running and chariot racing track. Patrick and Andrew held a race, and Patrick's fan club, Papa Phil, and I stayed behind to watch them. Andrew won by half a mile, much to our surprise.
So, we headed back to the bus uneventfully and continued on.
Yeah. Right.
As we started to leave, the sky went through a climate mood-swing; it was a clear blue sky one moment, and after I'd looked away, clouds formed and it began to rain heavily upon our heads. Much to our dismay and discomfort we were all soaked by the time we got back to the bus.
This brought along my quote of the day, by way of Patrick: "I feel like a very rich statue..."
It took a moment for our foggy minds to catch this, and then I promptly began to beat my head against the seat in front of me. Adrienne wasn't happy about that.
So..... we were on the road, again, this time to Nafplio. Little is known about it save that it is girt by sea.
*briefly nods to Terry Pratchett*
Okay, back in Realityland. It's a beautiful city on the coastline, and while it was very windy, we were only rained on once more that day. Before we reached our hotel, Vickie gave everyone else a driving tour, which I unfortunately slept through. Though, I must have been very tired, because our bus (supposedly) nearly hit an indecisive driver and I didn't wake up, even after I was saved from falling on the floor. o_o when I'm asleep, I'm asleep.
Reader's Digest condensed version of our afternoon: we walked around all afternoon, seeing all there was to see in that little town (and we lost Papa Phil and Patrick, one after the other), but the rain came after we regrouped at (and releft) the hotel. My inner cat wanted to sleep under the covers in dry clothes with the heater turned waaaay up. -_-; I don't much care for getting caught in a cold rain. But after a nice, hot dinner, we headed back for the night.
Patrick had bought a few peculiar drinks at the grocery store, two of them named Yes! and No!, respectively. He passed the Yes! around the group, and I managed to snag a glass, and surprisingly found that I liked it. They drank the No! later, after all us kids had gone to bed, and I found out later that poor Patrick had gotten in trouble with Lee for giving Yes! to us without conscent of the adults. Sorry, mate ^^a ...but it was good...
Well, I figured out that I don't like rain, I love the ocean, and eating a crepe that has been improperly put into the bag is like making out with your hand (thank you, Andrew, for that wonderful analogy). It was Patrick's, and he shared it with us (messily) about an hour before dinner, for which I was very thankful. I hadn't had any lunch and I was ravenous, but we couldn't find an ATM and I was saving my little bit of pocket money for dinner that night. We even were able to watch Home Alone with Greek subtitles later on! ^^ That was fascinating to me.
Alltogether, it was a tiring, but worthwhile, day.
Eh, too much Star Trek: TNG.
Recovering after a long night was interesting, especially with the promise of breakfast the next morning. It's strange; after starting the trip with no desire for breakfast, the habit has been drilled into my body's busy schedule. We visited a pastry shop (again) before heading out for the original site of the Olympic Games and the wonderous temple dedicated to Zeus. There was even a restored column from the original temple! Sadly, earthquakes had hit the area so much that there wasn't much but foundations and a few walls of the buildings. We wandered around, halfway listening to Vickie, until we found the running and chariot racing track. Patrick and Andrew held a race, and Patrick's fan club, Papa Phil, and I stayed behind to watch them. Andrew won by half a mile, much to our surprise.
So, we headed back to the bus uneventfully and continued on.
Yeah. Right.
As we started to leave, the sky went through a climate mood-swing; it was a clear blue sky one moment, and after I'd looked away, clouds formed and it began to rain heavily upon our heads. Much to our dismay and discomfort we were all soaked by the time we got back to the bus.
This brought along my quote of the day, by way of Patrick: "I feel like a very rich statue..."
It took a moment for our foggy minds to catch this, and then I promptly began to beat my head against the seat in front of me. Adrienne wasn't happy about that.
So..... we were on the road, again, this time to Nafplio. Little is known about it save that it is girt by sea.
*briefly nods to Terry Pratchett*
Okay, back in Realityland. It's a beautiful city on the coastline, and while it was very windy, we were only rained on once more that day. Before we reached our hotel, Vickie gave everyone else a driving tour, which I unfortunately slept through. Though, I must have been very tired, because our bus (supposedly) nearly hit an indecisive driver and I didn't wake up, even after I was saved from falling on the floor. o_o when I'm asleep, I'm asleep.
Reader's Digest condensed version of our afternoon: we walked around all afternoon, seeing all there was to see in that little town (and we lost Papa Phil and Patrick, one after the other), but the rain came after we regrouped at (and releft) the hotel. My inner cat wanted to sleep under the covers in dry clothes with the heater turned waaaay up. -_-; I don't much care for getting caught in a cold rain. But after a nice, hot dinner, we headed back for the night.
Patrick had bought a few peculiar drinks at the grocery store, two of them named Yes! and No!, respectively. He passed the Yes! around the group, and I managed to snag a glass, and surprisingly found that I liked it. They drank the No! later, after all us kids had gone to bed, and I found out later that poor Patrick had gotten in trouble with Lee for giving Yes! to us without conscent of the adults. Sorry, mate ^^a ...but it was good...
Well, I figured out that I don't like rain, I love the ocean, and eating a crepe that has been improperly put into the bag is like making out with your hand (thank you, Andrew, for that wonderful analogy). It was Patrick's, and he shared it with us (messily) about an hour before dinner, for which I was very thankful. I hadn't had any lunch and I was ravenous, but we couldn't find an ATM and I was saving my little bit of pocket money for dinner that night. We even were able to watch Home Alone with Greek subtitles later on! ^^ That was fascinating to me.
Alltogether, it was a tiring, but worthwhile, day.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Pastries, Souvlaki, and Things Like... Anatomy?
We left Delphi after breakfast (after staying up the night before 'til 1:30 talking in the commons room... though Naomi, Katina, and Abigail were awake until 4ish because of an impish spectre haunting their room), and drove to the ferry that would take us to the Peloponnese. Before we boarded, we split off into groups for minor exploration of the surrounding village; an ATM, a pastry shop, and an odd lamp-post later, the group I was following made it back to the bus... five minutes late. Lee wasn't happy -- she thought we were ten minutes late, and gave us a minor lecture before we could depart.
To our near-astonishment, we found out later that her watch was five mintues fast. Ha, ha. Well, at least we got some pastries out of the deal.
And, to chase a small tangent, let me explain the significance of the pastry shops. Poor, poor Patrick is a pastry addict, and when his Pastry Senses start tingling, he'll drop whatever he's doing to reach the ultimate goal of flaky, jam-filled or chocolate-covered goodness. We literally couldn't walk behind him for fear he'd stop in mid-stride and cause a three-car (er... body) pileup.
Back to traveling. I wish I had gotten pictures of everyone in the bus as they drifted in and out of consciousness. With Jennifer and Jordan in the seats directly in front of me, Naomi beside me, and Katina, Patrick, and Adrienne behind me, I was surrounded by sleepy-eyed (and none-too-talkative) people. In any case, nearly everyone else on the bus slept as well; I have a subtle worry about sleeping in a semi-public place (or at least wherever cameras, pranks, or drooling could be involved), so I tried my hardest to stay awake.
When we groggily reached Olympia, we were immediately dragged into a museum and shown wonderous statues (most were clothed, so I was satisfied), reliefs of the Twelve Tasks given to Hercules, decorations from Zeus's famous temple, and a very rich statue.
Tangent number two. The "rich statue" I just mentioned wasn't of a nobleman or a rich housewife, but the term of Rich Scuplture refers to a method developed by the Greek Playboys of their time. The statue itself was of a semi-nude woman, who had been clad in a wet, clingy, and windblown material. It was made at the time when artists were so tired of the other lovely ladies that they stopped making them so... well, exposed. But some continued to dance carefully around the radical "clothing" idea, thus making every detail still visible, only covered in material portrayed to be see-through.
A very rich statue indeed.
Oh, and today was also my very first taste of souvlaki. XD W00T!
(note: 50u\/l4k1 15 \/3ry l33t!)
Please excuse my shameless nod to l33t sp34k. It's been a while since I've fed an addiction (Megatokyo -- an American manga that has only been recently introduced to me), and I needed to vent.
We moved on after lunch and settled in our hotel, then wandered around until we found the market, something to eat, and an internet cafe (though not necessarily in that order). I e-mailed my parents for the first time since the start of the trip, bought postcards, followed everyone else around for a bit, and finally had dinner with the group at a 50u\/l4k1 bar. We stayed up a bit that night to play around in our rooms, and were nearly reprimanded by the manager for making so much noise. Adrienne gave us a strict talking-to, and after Katina accidentally hit me in the eye with a wet washcloth, I was in no mood to be nice when the J's came in to snap at us.
I don't think Jordan was very happy when I snapped back. Ah, well, he'd been in a bad mood that day, too. I'd just like to see him be submissive while trying to get lint out of his eye. >_>
To our near-astonishment, we found out later that her watch was five mintues fast. Ha, ha. Well, at least we got some pastries out of the deal.
And, to chase a small tangent, let me explain the significance of the pastry shops. Poor, poor Patrick is a pastry addict, and when his Pastry Senses start tingling, he'll drop whatever he's doing to reach the ultimate goal of flaky, jam-filled or chocolate-covered goodness. We literally couldn't walk behind him for fear he'd stop in mid-stride and cause a three-car (er... body) pileup.
Back to traveling. I wish I had gotten pictures of everyone in the bus as they drifted in and out of consciousness. With Jennifer and Jordan in the seats directly in front of me, Naomi beside me, and Katina, Patrick, and Adrienne behind me, I was surrounded by sleepy-eyed (and none-too-talkative) people. In any case, nearly everyone else on the bus slept as well; I have a subtle worry about sleeping in a semi-public place (or at least wherever cameras, pranks, or drooling could be involved), so I tried my hardest to stay awake.
When we groggily reached Olympia, we were immediately dragged into a museum and shown wonderous statues (most were clothed, so I was satisfied), reliefs of the Twelve Tasks given to Hercules, decorations from Zeus's famous temple, and a very rich statue.
Tangent number two. The "rich statue" I just mentioned wasn't of a nobleman or a rich housewife, but the term of Rich Scuplture refers to a method developed by the Greek Playboys of their time. The statue itself was of a semi-nude woman, who had been clad in a wet, clingy, and windblown material. It was made at the time when artists were so tired of the other lovely ladies that they stopped making them so... well, exposed. But some continued to dance carefully around the radical "clothing" idea, thus making every detail still visible, only covered in material portrayed to be see-through.
A very rich statue indeed.
Oh, and today was also my very first taste of souvlaki. XD W00T!
(note: 50u\/l4k1 15 \/3ry l33t!)
Please excuse my shameless nod to l33t sp34k. It's been a while since I've fed an addiction (Megatokyo -- an American manga that has only been recently introduced to me), and I needed to vent.
We moved on after lunch and settled in our hotel, then wandered around until we found the market, something to eat, and an internet cafe (though not necessarily in that order). I e-mailed my parents for the first time since the start of the trip, bought postcards, followed everyone else around for a bit, and finally had dinner with the group at a 50u\/l4k1 bar. We stayed up a bit that night to play around in our rooms, and were nearly reprimanded by the manager for making so much noise. Adrienne gave us a strict talking-to, and after Katina accidentally hit me in the eye with a wet washcloth, I was in no mood to be nice when the J's came in to snap at us.
I don't think Jordan was very happy when I snapped back. Ah, well, he'd been in a bad mood that day, too. I'd just like to see him be submissive while trying to get lint out of his eye. >_>
Monday, April 11, 2005
"Oh, MY..."
Disclaimer: I have led a very sheltered life for nearly seventeen years. I've had my parents and one older sister to "learn" from, no younger or older brothers; I had no innate curiosity concerning the male body when I was young.
That being said, I can officially declare that I learned a LOT today. Mostly while using my hands to cover my hot, blushing face.
We got back on the bus again (with Bus Driver stuck in my head. Darn it, where did I put my mp3 player?!) and drove to Delphi, where we toured the museum and the temples on the side of the mountain. I predict we will be on mountains for a while yet.
Oh, and it seems that Patrick has already acquired a sort of fan club, and while I didn't consider myself a true "fan", I've been labeled as a member. o_O I have a standing friendship with him, no interest in anything further, and above all, a guy waiting for me back home. Sure, whatever -- at least I wasn't the Entity. *pauses to beat her head against a wall*
Anyway... back to Delphi. We saw wonderful artifacts, like sphinxes, helmets, pottery... the usual. However, I should've guessed that Vickie was up to something when she led us into her 'favorite room' after saying, "Girls, go first!"
My first thought was, "My GODS!"
This was quickly followed by, "I'm glad I can hide under my hat. My, isn't this marble floor so lovely..."
I forgot to count how many statues of naked men there were in that room, only because I was staring at my shoes and trying not to think about it. When I'd been forewarned about the more provocative areas of Greek art, I really hadn't stopped to consider how much of an overload it could be. Naomi was laughing at me, and I'm sure Andrew (who was behind me) was snickering under his breath. -_-; so sue me -- I'd never been properly introduced to the finer points of male anatomy. Er... or, maybe those weren't the finer points. Can I go back to counting ribs instead?
Huzzah for great Greek art.
Breaking away from the room (we spent a LOT more time in there than I'd liked), we saw more wonderful (clothed) statues, such as a bronze centurion. Had a few appendages missing, but he was still a centurion ^^
After lunch in the village (mmmm... Moussaka...), we went back to see the Oracle. ...I actually did NOT know that "Oracle" was not only a job title, but the name of the TYPE of temple. Sweet. And the ruins were fascinating! Vickie described the temple and its surrounding area at its busiest: the seven months during which the Oracle (person) would predict answers to people's questions brought up to the Oracle (place). With a vivid picture painted for us, I could almost hear the sounds of the marketplace bustling all around.
Then I realized, no, it was only the huge masses of bees that inhabited the flower-covered mountainside.
I have an irrational fear of bees.
Naomi found one on my jacket, tried to get it off, and thus set off my paranoia. She managed to dislodge it (I guess I smelled good or something, because it really didn't want to let go) and stomp it into submission, but not before a bit of hyperventilation on my part.
After walking to the very top of the Oracle (place) and walking the length of the field used for games (chariot racing, I think, was the main event. It's an educated guess, anyway XD), we marched back down the stairs and I followed Patrick, Andrew, Katina, Abigail, and Naomi down to the sacred spring of Kastalia. When that got boring, we found our way to more ruins, surrounded by more bee-infested flowers. It was Katina's brilliant idea to walk down the least-trodden path to see what we could find, and about halfway, the combined constant buzzing echoing in my ears, fear, and extreme lack of escape routes caused my first ever nervous breakdown. By the time we headed back to the fork from which the path had split, I was tearful and hiding behind my jacket, following wherever I saw whoever's feet stepped in front of me.
Second Disclaimer: Today was not a good day.
I was so embarrassed that I couldn't stop crying for a bit. When it did pass, we headed back and joined the rest of our crew, waited for Yorgos and Vickie, and rode back to our hotel in the village. We did some shopping and internet cafe hopping before dinner, and I managed to e-mail my parents for the first time since the trip had started.
Then came the late night... but that's another story.
That being said, I can officially declare that I learned a LOT today. Mostly while using my hands to cover my hot, blushing face.
We got back on the bus again (with Bus Driver stuck in my head. Darn it, where did I put my mp3 player?!) and drove to Delphi, where we toured the museum and the temples on the side of the mountain. I predict we will be on mountains for a while yet.
Oh, and it seems that Patrick has already acquired a sort of fan club, and while I didn't consider myself a true "fan", I've been labeled as a member. o_O I have a standing friendship with him, no interest in anything further, and above all, a guy waiting for me back home. Sure, whatever -- at least I wasn't the Entity. *pauses to beat her head against a wall*
Anyway... back to Delphi. We saw wonderful artifacts, like sphinxes, helmets, pottery... the usual. However, I should've guessed that Vickie was up to something when she led us into her 'favorite room' after saying, "Girls, go first!"
My first thought was, "My GODS!"
This was quickly followed by, "I'm glad I can hide under my hat. My, isn't this marble floor so lovely..."
I forgot to count how many statues of naked men there were in that room, only because I was staring at my shoes and trying not to think about it. When I'd been forewarned about the more provocative areas of Greek art, I really hadn't stopped to consider how much of an overload it could be. Naomi was laughing at me, and I'm sure Andrew (who was behind me) was snickering under his breath. -_-; so sue me -- I'd never been properly introduced to the finer points of male anatomy. Er... or, maybe those weren't the finer points. Can I go back to counting ribs instead?
Huzzah for great Greek art.
Breaking away from the room (we spent a LOT more time in there than I'd liked), we saw more wonderful (clothed) statues, such as a bronze centurion. Had a few appendages missing, but he was still a centurion ^^
After lunch in the village (mmmm... Moussaka...), we went back to see the Oracle. ...I actually did NOT know that "Oracle" was not only a job title, but the name of the TYPE of temple. Sweet. And the ruins were fascinating! Vickie described the temple and its surrounding area at its busiest: the seven months during which the Oracle (person) would predict answers to people's questions brought up to the Oracle (place). With a vivid picture painted for us, I could almost hear the sounds of the marketplace bustling all around.
Then I realized, no, it was only the huge masses of bees that inhabited the flower-covered mountainside.
I have an irrational fear of bees.
Naomi found one on my jacket, tried to get it off, and thus set off my paranoia. She managed to dislodge it (I guess I smelled good or something, because it really didn't want to let go) and stomp it into submission, but not before a bit of hyperventilation on my part.
After walking to the very top of the Oracle (place) and walking the length of the field used for games (chariot racing, I think, was the main event. It's an educated guess, anyway XD), we marched back down the stairs and I followed Patrick, Andrew, Katina, Abigail, and Naomi down to the sacred spring of Kastalia. When that got boring, we found our way to more ruins, surrounded by more bee-infested flowers. It was Katina's brilliant idea to walk down the least-trodden path to see what we could find, and about halfway, the combined constant buzzing echoing in my ears, fear, and extreme lack of escape routes caused my first ever nervous breakdown. By the time we headed back to the fork from which the path had split, I was tearful and hiding behind my jacket, following wherever I saw whoever's feet stepped in front of me.
Second Disclaimer: Today was not a good day.
I was so embarrassed that I couldn't stop crying for a bit. When it did pass, we headed back and joined the rest of our crew, waited for Yorgos and Vickie, and rode back to our hotel in the village. We did some shopping and internet cafe hopping before dinner, and I managed to e-mail my parents for the first time since the trip had started.
Then came the late night... but that's another story.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
The Beginning of the Bus Tour
We woke up far, far earlier than I'd hoped (I wanted to sleep until, say... ten or eleven), staggered blearily into breakfast, and nearly fell asleep in our food. Or, maybe that was just me? It was hard to begin a habit I don't normally have... I never ate breakfast at home. At other peoples' houses, yes; never in my own home, then.
When we'd gotten our luggage sorted out (my Luggage ate some of my peaches when I wasn't looking), we stumbled outside only to be greeted by the most entergetic morning person I'd ever seen: Athens native and tour guide, Vickie. She very happily introduced herself and our bus driver, Yorgos (whom was called George by my fellow Alabamians), and herded us into the bus. As we drove, she told us of Greece's history and got to know our Fearless Leader a little better. She managed to keep Lee awake for a little bit longer, at least.
Our first stop was the Pass of Thermopylae, where two memorials stood in honor of the Spartan/Persian war in which the Spartans were outnumbered 700 to 300. It was awe-inspiring to me, because I've always been empathetic to the underdog. ^^a Yup, I'm a hopeless romantic all the way, de gozaru.
Next, we drove into the mountanous range (don't look down o_o) to see the four monasteries and two abbys on the mountaintops. The only one we could enter was Holy Meteora (which had spikes on the door o_O eerie...), and while I couldn't get pictures of the chapels or the Holy Hand Grenade Patrick and I found, I did get shots of the doors, the gardens, and some distant shots of the monasteries. Preeeetty mountains...
We stayed overnight in Kalambaka, where I had my first taste of Ouzo (I didn't like it, but Katina did) and two different red wines. One tasted like cough medicine, and the other vaguely reminded me of envelope glue. Eeew... >_> Mum never has to worry about me getting drunk in the wake of a fit of rage/depression/what have you. Not unless I can find something alcoholic that doesn't... taste... like alcohol. We stayed up 'til 12:30 talking, and finally fell into bed around oneish.
When we'd gotten our luggage sorted out (my Luggage ate some of my peaches when I wasn't looking), we stumbled outside only to be greeted by the most entergetic morning person I'd ever seen: Athens native and tour guide, Vickie. She very happily introduced herself and our bus driver, Yorgos (whom was called George by my fellow Alabamians), and herded us into the bus. As we drove, she told us of Greece's history and got to know our Fearless Leader a little better. She managed to keep Lee awake for a little bit longer, at least.
Our first stop was the Pass of Thermopylae, where two memorials stood in honor of the Spartan/Persian war in which the Spartans were outnumbered 700 to 300. It was awe-inspiring to me, because I've always been empathetic to the underdog. ^^a Yup, I'm a hopeless romantic all the way, de gozaru.
Next, we drove into the mountanous range (don't look down o_o) to see the four monasteries and two abbys on the mountaintops. The only one we could enter was Holy Meteora (which had spikes on the door o_O eerie...), and while I couldn't get pictures of the chapels or the Holy Hand Grenade Patrick and I found, I did get shots of the doors, the gardens, and some distant shots of the monasteries. Preeeetty mountains...
We stayed overnight in Kalambaka, where I had my first taste of Ouzo (I didn't like it, but Katina did) and two different red wines. One tasted like cough medicine, and the other vaguely reminded me of envelope glue. Eeew... >_> Mum never has to worry about me getting drunk in the wake of a fit of rage/depression/what have you. Not unless I can find something alcoholic that doesn't... taste... like alcohol. We stayed up 'til 12:30 talking, and finally fell into bed around oneish.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
On the Road...
First day on the road to Rome, Greece, and Paris! ...the beginning of a wonderful adventure.
We met at ten in the morning, bid a fond goodbye to our families, and headed on a three-hour drive to the Atlanta airport. It was uneventful at first (I read for the first two and a half hours)... then, the omen hit us. One member of our caravan gained a flat tire only twenty minutes from the airport, and the car I was in pulled over to help change it. ...with another flat tire. Didn't work too well, really. So, our third vehicle came back, we transferred luggage (my Luggage was fine, but it was getting hungry), and went as fast as we could to meet the others.
Then, it was a wonderful seven hour-ish flight to Paris. Some slept, others watched Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow two-and-a-half times, and I managed to finish my book and put an addition into my sketchbook. My media choices consisted of The Incredibles, Sky Captain, and an episode of the original Mission Impossible. COOL. XD
At seven-thirty in the morning, we RAN through the Paris airport to catch our short connection.
...and at seven-forty, we were still in the airport. The airline had given away our seats because we hadn't made it in time, and the next flight was at six or seven in the evening. Also, there was no (inexpensive) way out, because the RER was being worked on that day. UGH.
I was beginning to wish I'd seen The Terminal before I'd left home, because what I'd gathered from the trailers made me feel very sympathetic for Tom Hanks' character. No matter how loudly we groaned, we were stuck inside that airport with no way out for nearly twelve hours.
Joy of all joys.
So, from eight until twelve, we explored every inch of our surroundings. We tried many times to seek refuge in a warmer environment, but when we were literally kicked out of the Sheraton lobby, we figured that wandering was our best alternative (though, when we came out, we saw three guys in camo and berets walking around with BIG machine guns. O_O We didn't do it, officer! The lady in the lobby overreacted!)
Around noon, we managed to find lunch in one of the nicer places in the airport. The people at the ticket counter had given us 18E lunch vouchers, and we planned to spend them. Unfortunately, I spent mine on a very nasty bowl of pumpkin soup. >_> Great idea, that was... And, after that, ten out of eleven of us took naps on the cold, cold floor of the terminal. I stayed awake (the subconscious fear of missing a second flight overpowered my desire to sleep) and entertained myself by counting the number of people who walked by wearing glasses. Two hundred and four people later, it was almost 4:30 and we groggily headed through security. We WEREN'T missing another flight.
Soooo.... longer story geting shorter, we finally got in the air to Athens! It was a smaller flight, no TVs or anything (ah, well, I had my notebook ^^ so I was happy), but I slept a bit on my empty food tray. Poor, poor Katina accidentally got high off of airsick pills and sinus medicine, so she was still flying even after we'd landed ^^a Oops?
Two lost bags, a long and crowded bus ride, and a tedious hike through Athens later, we got to the famous Hotel Attalos after one in the morning. We met up with our final two members, Adrienne and Patrick, and managed to be in bed around three or four a.m. after calling home. Mom and Dad were at a baseball game, and nearly freaked me out when I couldn't get a hold of them.
But, when we did get to bed, we slept.
We met at ten in the morning, bid a fond goodbye to our families, and headed on a three-hour drive to the Atlanta airport. It was uneventful at first (I read for the first two and a half hours)... then, the omen hit us. One member of our caravan gained a flat tire only twenty minutes from the airport, and the car I was in pulled over to help change it. ...with another flat tire. Didn't work too well, really. So, our third vehicle came back, we transferred luggage (my Luggage was fine, but it was getting hungry), and went as fast as we could to meet the others.
Then, it was a wonderful seven hour-ish flight to Paris. Some slept, others watched Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow two-and-a-half times, and I managed to finish my book and put an addition into my sketchbook. My media choices consisted of The Incredibles, Sky Captain, and an episode of the original Mission Impossible. COOL. XD
At seven-thirty in the morning, we RAN through the Paris airport to catch our short connection.
...and at seven-forty, we were still in the airport. The airline had given away our seats because we hadn't made it in time, and the next flight was at six or seven in the evening. Also, there was no (inexpensive) way out, because the RER was being worked on that day. UGH.
I was beginning to wish I'd seen The Terminal before I'd left home, because what I'd gathered from the trailers made me feel very sympathetic for Tom Hanks' character. No matter how loudly we groaned, we were stuck inside that airport with no way out for nearly twelve hours.
Joy of all joys.
So, from eight until twelve, we explored every inch of our surroundings. We tried many times to seek refuge in a warmer environment, but when we were literally kicked out of the Sheraton lobby, we figured that wandering was our best alternative (though, when we came out, we saw three guys in camo and berets walking around with BIG machine guns. O_O We didn't do it, officer! The lady in the lobby overreacted!)
Around noon, we managed to find lunch in one of the nicer places in the airport. The people at the ticket counter had given us 18E lunch vouchers, and we planned to spend them. Unfortunately, I spent mine on a very nasty bowl of pumpkin soup. >_> Great idea, that was... And, after that, ten out of eleven of us took naps on the cold, cold floor of the terminal. I stayed awake (the subconscious fear of missing a second flight overpowered my desire to sleep) and entertained myself by counting the number of people who walked by wearing glasses. Two hundred and four people later, it was almost 4:30 and we groggily headed through security. We WEREN'T missing another flight.
Soooo.... longer story geting shorter, we finally got in the air to Athens! It was a smaller flight, no TVs or anything (ah, well, I had my notebook ^^ so I was happy), but I slept a bit on my empty food tray. Poor, poor Katina accidentally got high off of airsick pills and sinus medicine, so she was still flying even after we'd landed ^^a Oops?
Two lost bags, a long and crowded bus ride, and a tedious hike through Athens later, we got to the famous Hotel Attalos after one in the morning. We met up with our final two members, Adrienne and Patrick, and managed to be in bed around three or four a.m. after calling home. Mom and Dad were at a baseball game, and nearly freaked me out when I couldn't get a hold of them.
But, when we did get to bed, we slept.
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