27th July 99, 0911hrs Tuesday. Student+Traveller’s Inn, Plaka, Athens.
Just passing through Athens, and due to several extremely funny looks from cafe and restaurant proprietors when I asked if their cheese pies are the type you have with sugar, we’re in our Athens haunt, just for breakfast.
Yesterday evening we bunked down in one of the Pullman seat rooms and I got the best night’s sleep since Athens last time. Yesterday morning we got up early and had breakfast in the hostel before heading out to Knossos.
It was really cool to be round Dave again, reminiscing, cowering with fear as we uncovered each other’s cringe-worthy stuff from the past...cool.
I remember Knossos as being a lot more enjoyable when I came with my family at the age of nine. It was impressive and haunting, but it was a faint echo under the hundreds upon hundreds of tourists milling round in hordes.
The Royal Quarters and the great staircase were closed for restoration, which might have had quite a lot to do with it, but after about an hour, we felt like we’d done all we could legally do. The baking sun was telling on us. A search through all the gift shops for another key ring like my parents’ old one that I lost was fruitless (to add to the fruitless searches in Hania and Iraklion), so I came to the conclusion that they’d stopped making them. Damn.
We’re going to do a spot of shopping in a mo, before going to catch the train to Patras.
Tomorrow morning, all being well, we’ll be in Italy again.
Yesterday afternoon we walked out along the harbour wall in Heraklion, ate lunch and generally wandered about. We went with Dave to meet his parents after they’d dropped Jenny and Ari off at the airport and said goodbye. He’ll be back in the UK by this evening. That seems very weird.
After arriving in Heraklion, we managed to get into the archaeological museum, where most of the finds from Knossos are, including the genuine frieze remains, for free. Dave and Gemma had their student ID, me with an Italian police report stating that I’d had my student ID stolen...same thing at Knossos!
1250hrs - Train to Patras.
Long walk from Omonia to the train station, and after a pedantic seat-swapping fiasco, we’re on our way back to Italy.
Coming back this way gives me the opportunity to appreciate the views in a way I couldn’t when I was talking to Mikas on the way to Athens. Sea views of massed chemical tankers, moving onto sea framed by hilly islands covered with low, olive-green scrub. Cliff-top rails, and a spectacular drop, secluded coves and fishing villages in white.
Leave a comment