Day 80 ~ Jeddah Day Two, Hejazi Exploration

March 30, 2022

Hot, hot, hot! Once the temp hits 90, there's no point in measuring how much higher it goes, but the humidity level was low, it was bearable. So we now know what a biscuit feels like, not a steamed clam.

ARABIC PROVERB

الدنيا زي الغازية، ترقص لكل واحد شوية

Literal translation: The world is like a belly-dancer: it dances a little while for everyone. 

English equivalent: Every dog has its day.

Our guide Ali at the place of meeting of the neighborhood elders where disputes are settled amicably.

Today the world danced a bit for us. After the missed steps of yesterday, we needed it. One of the biggest differences was having a good guide, and Ali was a wonderful one for us. Full of good humor and wit, impeccable English and a frank, friendly manner, he made us feel so very welcome and we were glad to follow him and soak up a more intimate look at Arab family life and culture. 

The photography instructor's reminder to look for reflections is on a feedback loop in my head!

First however, we had a driving tour along the waterfront. I've no doubt these were the impressive art installations and newly constructed buildings we were supposed to see yesterday. Our bus rumbled past the tallest flagpole in the world and the tower in progress that will reach 3000 ft. tall when it's finished.  

Hejazi style houses in the Old Town a UNESCO World Heritage site

In the Old Town of Jedda, the homes are built three or four stories high and are meant to accommodate multiple generations of the family. When a son marries, he adds a room for him and his bride. If a daughter marries, she moves in with her new husband's parents, grandparents, and siblings. The homes are constructed using sea coral blocks, which absorbs moisture and releases it as cooled air. There is a "walkers' rights" law which requires the homes to be built with a slight slant inward so that if the homeowner neglects his house and it falls down, it will collapse in on itself rather than endangering others.  

The first floor of the house is for guests and a place for the men of the house to entertain friends and family--a sort of Arabic Man Cave. The second floor is the women's domain, and Ali assured us that every woman is a queen in her own home. Here is the kitchen, the bedrooms, and the rooms that house her extensive wardrobe of abayas, etc. Higher floors belong to the younger members of the family. 

I learned to sew on a machine that looked very much like this one! 

The furniture was highly decorated, intricately painting.

One of the private homes we visited was large and affluent enough to have its own private mosque. Ali took us all inside another public one which was undergoing renovations and gave us his heartfelt assurance that the Kingdom welcomes people of all faiths.  I think as a nation, there is a sense of ...not guilt exactly, but a recognition that the Wahabism that came out of Saudi Arabia was the driving force behind Bin Laden and 911. Ali's declaration made me feel he, and hopefully many of his fellow countrymen, want a more open, accepting relationship with the rest of the world.

Not sure which spice this is, but its vivid color says "hot stuff" to me.

Then we headed down to the souk where all the vendors were just beginning to open up. Spice merchants had lit cones of incense, which Ali called the "aroma of friendship," to entice us in. 

We really enjoyed our second day in Jeddah and got a very different sense of the place. Saudi Arabia is clearly a country trying to make something of itself and is experiencing some growing pains, but the people were warm and friendly, so I have great hopes that they will build a strong tourism industry as they continue to open their society to outsiders. 

Peace comes when people see the image of God stamped on the faces of others. Some of that happened today. May there be many more days like it. 

Day 79 ~ Jeddah Day One. In which we become travelers...

 March 29, 2022

Inching toward 95 degrees, which is why we opted for an evening excursion, when the sun's fury fades and the night wind breathes softly over the dunes...

“Please be a traveler, not a tourist. Try new things, meet new people, and look beyond what’s right in front of you. Those are the keys to understanding this amazing world we live in.”
― Andrew Zimmern

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia...only recently opened to tourism...among the most conservative of Muslim countries...terra incognita for us. How fortunate we are to be here! When I was a child, my mother used to read to my sisters and me from a book called 1001 Arabian Nights. I learned about Aladdin & the Magic Lamp and Ali Baba & the 40 Thieves long before Disney took up the tales. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd have my own Arabian Nights adventure.

Or that it would bear so little resemblance to the flying carpet rides of my childish imagination!

The port at Jeddah is a commercial one, and is not really equipped to deal with passenger ships. The Saudi officials set up a complicated system that required us to ride a shuttle bus to the distant cruise terminal for processing of our travel documents and collecting our fingerprints prior to entry into the Kingdom. This was to be done well before embarking on our first excursion. Our excursion was set to depart at 4 PM, so just before lunchtime, we went over with our passports & CDC cards & Saudi Arabia e-visas to make sure all travel righteousness had been fulfilled. After that face to face exam, we only had to show our passports with the entry stamp each time we paraded through the largely empty terminal.

Our excursion was for an evening in the desert at a Bedouin camp, enjoying the famous Arab hospitality, entertainment, and a supper under the stars. It sounded so inviting that over 200 of our fellow cruisers had signed up for this adventure, so there were several buses to carry us all to the venue. Unfortunately, a few passengers assigned to Bus 10 with us had not gone through the customs process ahead of time like the rest of us had, so we were the last bus to depart the terminal, long after the others were out of sight.   

Shortly after leaving the port, we were met by devastation on both sides of the highway. Acres and acres of residential area had been demolished with limited attempts to clear away the rubble. 

I can't imagine the tour company intended for us to see this destroyed area of the city that went on for miles. It was our first clue that Bus 10 was in trouble. The second was that instead of providing commentary or answering questions as we rode along, our "guide" had gone to the back of the bus and promptly fell asleep! 

But this was our chance to be travelers, not tourists, not to expect to be shown only the lovely and acceptable. Here was Jeddah in the raw. For some unknown reason, part of the city has been purposely demolished. (The next day we'd hear conflicting stories about how the area was filled with criminals and illegals and the King wished to clear the area so "good people" could build better homes and lead good lives. Another said the homes were all sub-standard and had to be replaced, but in the face of no clearing and rebuilding going on, I find myself wondering about that, too.) It's a puzzlement and local media reports shed no clear light on it other than to tout the King's 2030 deadline for modernization.

Evidently some buildings managed to escape destruction. 

Then our driver turned off the highway and drove us back into the city in time for rush hour through the heart of Jeddah. The men on Bus 10 perked up immediately because King Abdullah Avenue is home to more car dealerships than I've ever seen all smooshed together. And what dealerships all in a row! The DH's eyes gleamed as we passed Ferrari, Lamborghini, Rolls Royce, Bentley...and then he came back down to earth when the next lot belonged to Volkswagen. There were Chevrolets, Nissans--so many different makes and models I lost count. Then the rental car companies began. Clearly the Saudis love their automobiles. 

Women are allowed to drive in the Kingdom now. But
I didn't see any behind the wheel. Evidence of intelligence
given the way the men drive!

And they drive like Bostonians! When we moved to Boston, we were shell-shocked for the first month or so at the helter-skelter habits of our fellow motorists. It's a city where use of a turn signal for a lane change is considered a sign of weakness. 

In Jeddah, there don't seem to be any formal traffic lanes, no demarcation lines on the road. Sometimes, we'd be riding three vehicles abreast, sometimes four with no change in the width of the road. Cars cut in front of each other and merge suddenly with zero warning, except possibly a "courtesy toot" from their horn! (Another thing that reminded me of Boston!)

We distracted ourselves from the sense of an impending fender-bender by noticing how many American franchises were there--McDonald's, of course, Starbucks, Hardees, KFC, Dominos Pizza, Toys-R-Us, even Chuckie Cheese!

Then the driver began to call out "Ahmed!" over and over, which was apparently our guide's name. When some of the rest of the passengers took up the cry, Ahmed woke up and made his way to the front of the bus where a furious conversation in Arabic ensued. (Isn't strange how angry something sounds when you don't understand exactly what's being said?) Apparently neither the driver nor Ahmed knew where the venue for our outing was located, or how to get there, and the version of Google maps on Ahmed's phone was less that helpful. At one point, we caught a glimpse of one of the other buses from our group, but they were heading a different direction than we, perpendicular to our route, on a highway we rolled by on an overpass. Since there was no way to put our bus into "Jump" gear, we soldiered on with Ahmed's phone to guide us. (We later learned that other bus was almost as lost as we were!)

These stylized camels caught my eye as we broke free of the city and headed into the desert. This is as much of a sunset as we got. Sol was obscured by the fine sand and other airborne particulates and transformed into this sickly yellow ball. In case you're wondering, this photo has not been touched up. That's the color of the sky through our slightly tinted bus window. I found myself wondering how often the children of Jeddah see a blue one...

A couple of times our driver stopped and backed up ON THE HIGHWAY, to take an exit he'd missed, but I'm not sure they were the right ones either because once he was off the main road, the driver did several jigs and jags and scraped the front of the bus against something under the sand that sounded like it wasn't about to give. At one point, we passed a semi-truck on a fairly deserted road and saw that the driver had stopped to spread his prayer rug in the sand beside his vehicle to make his evening devotions. I respect that. It does the human heart good to acknowledge that there is a God and we are not Him.

And a little prayer couldn't hurt our situation just then either.

Then as the sky kept growing darker, we drove through what looked like a newish housing development, then past a cement plant as the last of the light faded to civil twilight. We were driving on more or less packed sand instead of asphalt, swerving and sliding in ways that reminded me of driving in snow in the Upper Midwest. 

Then a Jeep came toward us, stopped and flashed its lights indicating we should follow them.

A cheer went up when we saw the cluster of buses in the distance!

The trip that should have taken one hour had stretched into 2 1/2, but it wasn't all bad. We'd just had a chance to see the real Jeddah, to experience the frustration of traffic and bustle like a native, to see both devastation and new development, to experience the aesthetic of "lostness" that adds flavor to travel. And our evening was barely starting. 

Our hosts greeted us with smiles, and hot tea and dates, a comforting and welcome treat after our long bus ride. And directed us to the rest rooms, another very welcome development after the long bus ride! We were assured that we hadn't missed anything important, which made me wonder what everyone else was doing until we arrived.

One of the things the early-comers did was hike up the nearby sand-covered hills.

The DH is an excellent horseback rider, a regular Centaur! Riding a camel, however, is another kettle of fish. Staying on (which he did) while the camel stands up is a rodeo all by itself! 

I passed on the camel ride, but it was a delight to watch the DH enjoy himself on one.

Our hosts entertained us with some live music and dancing. I managed to take a video of them (and one of the DH on the camel) but we're having trouble uploading things right now. The music was joyously atonal and the dancing full of life. 

Then without any formal announcement, we noticed most of the crowd gravitating toward the area where tables and chairs had been set up in deference to us stiff Westerners for whom sitting on a cushion at a low table would be torture. Supper was being served buffet style in two lines--one for vegetables and sweets, and one for meat. We opted to stand in the meat line because the aroma was so enticing. 

There was freshly made flatbread, kebabs of chicken, lamb, beef, and liver (which was spiced so well, I wished I'd asked for more than one piece!) along with two kinds of dipping sauce, one cool and mild and yogurt-based, and a version with more heat spiced with cardamom. The meal was followed by a plate-sized honey cake, which the DH & I shared, not too sweet, but crunchy on the outside and filled with a creamy center. Delish!

Unfortunately, we didn't experience the inky desert sky I'd hoped for. The venue was too well lit to allow for star-gazing, but the lighting was necessary because the pathways were marked by stones in the sand which I'd never have seen had it been darker.

Then it was time to return to the ship, but the sad saga of Bus 10 was not yet over. Our driver, God bless him, had managed to drop two wheels into the deep, unpacked sand when we first arrived and the poor man had spent the whole time we were being feted and feasted trying to drive out of it. Instead, he managed to sink all the wheels in up to the axels. The bus canted ominously to the right and the sand was so high on the door, he had to crawl through a window to get out.

Suddenly all the passengers of Bus 10 became refugees and we had to find seats on the other buses. Kudos to Sarah-Leanne, our excellent assistant cruise director, who boarded each bus to make sure all her lost lambs found a ride back to the Star. And in a loose approximation of a convoy, we headed out into the desert night in search of the right way back to Jeddah and the port.

I don't want to say our driver was exceeding any speed limits, but I snapped this photo of a theme park as we zipped by. You be the judge. 

All's well that ends well, and our return trip was made safely and in less than the hour promised. If an adventure is defined by not knowing the outcome when a plan goes awry, we'd had a true one. We'd seen parts of Jeddah most visitors won't. We'd endured a rush hour like natives. The DH got a camel ride. Our tummies were filled with wonderfully exotic food and while I couldn't whistle any of the tunes we heard, I remember the music's eerie strangeness with fondness.

Kristy shared a bit of kindergarten wisdom with us. It's useful when things don't go to plan.

Ya git what ya git, so don't throw a fit, 'cuz that is it! 

We could be upset by the repeated snafus, or we could take what came our way with a little grace. I found myself pitying our driver. Out of all of us, he had the worst night, hand's down. 

Clearly, tourism is new for the Saudis and I'm sure they'll get much better at it with practice. They have warmth and hospitality down. Now it's just a matter of mastering the logistics.

More soon...

April 1, 2022 Update

Viking reimbursed 1/2 the price of the excursion to the passengers on Bus 10, which we thought was very decent of them. We had missed quite a bit of time at the venue, but as Mrs. Patmore from Downton Abbey says, "What the eye can't see, the heart won't grieve for."  

Day 78 ~ A Picture is worth a Thousand Words

March 28, 2022

73 degrees, light breeze, perfect weather to breakfast on the fantail!  

Today we'll dispense with the nautical term of the day and jump right in to the DH's photo montages of our recent ports of call. (He finally had to wait till we docked in Jeddah this morning and created a hotspot with his cellphone to get things to upload. Clever man!)

Here's Nafplion, Greece:

Wander the streets of Chania, Crete (also Greece) with us:

Enjoy a languid cruise down the Suez Canal by our side:

We are waiting now for our excursion to the desert to begin at 4 PM. Dining with Bedouins under a star filled sky sounds like amazing Arabian night!

More soon...

Day 76 & 77 ~ A Passage to Arabia

March 26-27, 2022

59 degrees inching into the 60's

NAUTICAL TERM OF THE DAY ~ Gone by the board

This refers to anything seen to have gone overboard or spotted floating past the ship. "By the board" was considered lost at sea.

It's fascinating to watch tugs do their work. They are powerhouses in small packages, delivering harbor pilots, easing much bigger vessels into position, and generally harrying their flock of ships like an Australian sheepdog, nipping and nudging them into line.

When we aren't in port, the days sort of run together and my calendar gets a bit muddled. The Star took a day to travel from Crete to Port Said, Egypt, arriving at around 11PM, where we held station until we could be assembled into a convoy to pass through the Suez Canal. Military ships are usually first in the queue, followed by passenger vessels, then container ships. There were no military ships waiting, so the Star moved to the head of the line and we began our transit at about 3 AM.  

Since we've been attending photography classes, I'm trying to be more intentional when I snap a pic. I was really happy with this photo. Not only did I capture the moon and Venus in the inky sky, the lights of Port Said left a dancing rainbow of reflections in the still water.

We transited the Suez Canal in 2018, but then we were going from south to north. It seemed less busy this time, but that may be due to Covid. The watered west bank was dotted with green areas while the dry left bank was nothing but sand. As I remembered from the previous cruise, the desert swirled in the air currents and obscured our distant view with a brown haze.

The bright sun casts sharp shadows of palm trees on the sand.

The canal was constructed from 1859 to 1869. It would have been accomplished much earlier but for a faulty survey and some mathematical errors that made the backers believe there was a big difference in the sea levels between the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean. Our onboard historian told us that the idea for a canal was as old as the pharaohs, and in fact, there was a narrow canal dug from the Bitter Lakes to connect with the Nile that was used only by Egyptian royalty. 

There are a number of temporary structures that form bridges across the canal that separates Egypt on the west and the Sinai Peninsula (also part of Egypt) on the east. I'm not sure what this structure is, but the workers walking on top of it left me breathless.

On the shores of Great Bitter Lake. The water is brackish, not quite fresh and not quite salt.

I promised to let you know what was in the box left in our cabin yesterday. Those neatly wrapped packages contained our clean underwear and socks! We decided to experiment with letting Viking do some of our laundry. Nothing shrank! 

Life continues in lazy circles on the Star. We are given opportunities to learn, to read, to relax in the spa, and to be entertained in several different venues, punctuated by over-the-top culinary events. 

The chef put on a Tex-Mex brunch  during our cruising the Red Sea day. Bear in mind, all of these dishes were presented to our table of four (us and Kristy & Dave) to share between us. There was enough food for 8 or 12 people, probably more. It's a little concerning how much waste there is on the Star, but this is one time I just can't fulfill my parents' dictum to "clean your plate." 

The DH is still working on getting our last two ports of call and cruising the canal pictures uploaded into his montage. Viking's wifi continues to be inadequate to non-existent sometimes. I'll share them in a separate post as soon as he finishes them.

 

More soon...

 

Day 74 & 75 ~ Crete, but not Heraklion

 March 24, 2022

High 40's, low 50's--Still waiting for spring to catch up with us!

Give up the thought that you have control. You don't. The best you can do is adapt, anticipate, be flexible, sense the environment and respond. ~ Frances Arnold

We were supposed to call at Heraklion, but the waves and wind made that too dicey a port for the Star. So, Captain Olav snugged us into sheltered Souda Bay. Rob, our shore excursion director, threw together a bunch of new excursions and we found ourselves on a bus headed for the city of Chania (The "c" is silent.) Our guide, Christina, told us we'd be seeing an old Venetian port, a UNESCO site, as a highlight of our walking tour. 

One of the few remaining minarets from the time of Ottoman occupation.

Christina spoke fondly of the Venetian period in the island's history, explaining that the inhabitants benefited from Venetian business acumen and contacts even after they released their hold on Crete. And even though the Venetians were Roman Catholic, they did nothing to deter the practice of the Cretans' primary religion--Eastern Orthodox. Even today 85% of the island is Orthodox. But she had little good to say about the time of the Ottoman rule and the few Muslims who live on Crete now have come from other countries, but not Turkey. 

It seems strange to me to carry a grudge from another century.

Wandering the narrow lanes of a city that sprang up in the 1300's with Kristy & Dave

Part of the difrugalty may have to do with the fact that Venice bought Crete from the Republic of Genoa (though how it came to be a possession of Genoa, I have no idea), so the transition of governing authority was peaceful. The Ottomans took the island by force.

The Venetian Harbor, built between 1320 & 1356

A Venetian lighthouse & a mosque guard the harbor.

Then after giving the group several different ways to go to find our bus again, our guide turned us loose. This is the part where we're supposed to shop or drink coffee at one of the establishments that was not quite open yet. Throughout the Med we have found that the business day starts later, has a long leisurely hiatus for lunch in the middle of what we'd call the afternoon, and then shops reopen for evening. Supper is often not eaten until 9 or 10 o'clock at night. Kristy, the night owl among us, feels like she's finally found her people!

The DH, me, & Kristy

One of the places that was open was the Eastern Orthodox church. 

I am always mindful when I step into a place of worship not to disturb those who have come, not as a tourist, but as a worshipper. This sanctuary was not crowded, but there was a steady stream of people who slipped in to pray, to move around the space, pausing before various icons and paintings to kiss the image and cross themselves, to maybe light a candle.

It reminded me of the shrines I'd visited in Tokyo. People would come in and pray in certain spots, moving around to different stations which changed their focus, sort of like a human-sized rosary, telling the beads of their devotion with bowed heads and clasped hands. 

And in the Jain temple in Mumbai, worshippers would follow a path around the space in the accomplishment of their devotions.

Or the stations of the cross often seen in Roman Catholic churches that invite the worshipper to walk that road with Christ. 

There is something in the human heart that longs for something pure, something holy. No matter where we travel in the world, it seems people are always looking for ways to connect with the divine.  

Inside the opulently decorated Eastern Orthodox Church

Kristy & Don

And we're also looking for ways to connect with each other. 

On this trip, there are a few travelers we first met on the Pacific Princess in 2018 and are now on the Viking Star with us too. One of them is Don. 

He's such an inspiration to me. He uses a walker. His hearing is severely impaired so masks make it doubly difficult for him to understand what's being said. But he keeps going, getting off the ship for excursions at each port and smiling everywhere he goes!

May 25th

We have a sea day today. After our flurry of cold excursions, we spent some time warming up in the thermal suite. How delicious it is to slide into that steaming pool! Part of being cold is the way our muscles tense up. The thelassotherapy pool is pure bliss.

Then when we returned to our cabin, this box was waiting on our bed. To give you a sense of scale, the box is about 18 X 18 inches. 

Just for grins, what do you think is in it? 

I promise to share the answer in my next post! 

More soon...

PS. The DH is still having trouble with Youtube because our ship's wifi continues to be spotty. He's still working on his photo montages which I'll post when we have better internet.

Day 73 ~ Nafplion, Greece or Did Agamemnon have it coming?

March 23, 2002

 47 degrees, threatening rain, biting wind

''This is the word the Achaians have spoken often against me and found fault with me in it, yet I am not responsible, but Zeus is...'' ~ Agamemnon from Homer's The Iliad. (People have been blaming the gods for their failings since the Garden. Remember how Adam said to God, "The woman YOU put here with me--she gave me some fruit and I ate it.")

Last night, the Med suddenly realized it had been too kind to the Viking Star of late and decided to show us why underwater archaeology is such big business around here. There are amphora aplenty to be found on the bottom of this sea from when ancient sailors tried to lighten their load in storms. Around 2 AM, the sea began to buck and our verandah door must have come slightly open because we were wakened by a banshee-like wailing wind! The DH climbed out of bed and secured it, shutting out the squall, but I rolled over and mentally crossed today off our list. However, the day dawned fair and we set off to visit Mycenae, a Bronze Age capital.

The Bourtzi, a Venetian era stronghold built to control the Nafplion harbor. I snapped this photo from the tender on our way back to the Star after our excursion. The weather had deteriorated rapidly and we were glad to climb back aboard our lovely cruise ship.

 

Mykinis (the old name for the city) means "mushrooms."

Today we stepped into the Bronze age with a trip to the countryside and the ruins of an acropolis where Agamemnon ruled. The Odyssey is chalked up to Homer's vivid imagination, but the Iliad is peopled by actual historical characters, so you have to wonder if some bits of it are true. 

Agamemnon was the King of Mycenae, who wanted war with Troy for reasons other than his brother Menelaus' wayward wife, Helen. It wasn't her beautiful face that launched a thousand ships. That was just the false flag Agamemnon used to justify attacking Troy. He went to war for the usual reason one nation invades another--they had something Agamemnon wanted. In this case, it was mostly arable land. Greece is the most mountainous country in Europe with 80% of the land mass mostly vertical. 

Entrance to Agamemnon's tomb. 

View from inside Agamemnon's tomb

Thanks to the Trojan Horse treachery, Agamemnon was successful. However, he didn't live long enough to enjoy his victory much. While he was gone to war, his wife Clytemnestra took a lover and when her husband returned, they conspired to kill Agamemnon. 

I almost couldn't blame Clytemnestra because before he left to attack Troy, Agamemnon sacrificed their daughter Iphigeneia to insure the war went his way. 

But the illicit lovers didn't last long either. Clytemnestra's son and daughter, Orestes and Electra, killed her and her lover. And the whole sordid tale provided grist for the drama mills of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, all intent on proving their main thesis--We all carry the seeds of our own destruction within ourselves. 

The interior bee-hive structure of the tomb. The dome rises 39 ft from the floor, but the use of smaller stones farther up fools the eye and makes it seem even taller. The space has perfect acoustics and when our guide asked if someone would like to sing a bit, I couldn't help myself! I launched into the first 16 bars or so of Quando m'en vo from La Boheme. My high notes never soared so effortlessly!

There is a fascinating museum at the site of Agamemnon's acropolis, filled with grave goods and other treasures from the Bronze Age.  Highly defensive, the stronghold was designed to withstand a long siege. The walled city had store houses for grain and a secret cistern. On the other side of the hill from the settlement, a spring was discovered. Those Bronze age mathematicians and builders figured out a way to dig a tunnel through the hill to the spring which they enclosed, so the city would always have a source of fresh water. 

Technology may change, but people have always loved and figured out how to make beautiful things.

We hiked up to the Lion's Gate, so called because of the twin lion's carved above the opening (the DH will share that photo in his montage), but we didn't get much farther into the city. This little tabby was the only feline haunting the ruin. 

In the South Pacific, dogs run feral all over the islands, and I'm sad to say they are often on the menu there. In the Med, we've seen more than one port where cats run wild everywhere we visited. But no one eats cats. Instead, they're welcomed by all and credited with keeping the vermin and the illnesses they carry down.

Kristy & Dave on the outer wall of Mycenae, looking down into the city's graveyard.

The rain that has been threatening to catch up with us at the last three or four stops finally found us and the heavens opened as we quick-marched back to the tour bus. 

I'm not sweet enough to melt, but my Portable Oxygen Concentrators have the potential to short out if they get too wet. My DH is so good to me. Not only does he carry my POC on his back, he took his jacket off and covered Herkimer (or Percy, whichever one he was carrying) with his coat to protect my O2 from the rain. Bless the man.  

That little green tube on his right is my canula. When we go on excursions, we have a 7 ft. tether that keeps us together!  

Tomorrow we're in Crete, one of the hundred plus islands Greece claims in its archipelago! 

More soon...

PS. The DH is having trouble getting his photos to upload to YouTube. So as soon as we get into port long enough, I'll do a post of just his images so you can catch up with all our doings and the wonderful things we're seeing!

Day 71 & 72 ~ A Welcome Sea Day & Katakolon, Greece!

 March 21-22, 2022

44 degrees with a lying sun and rain forecast for later today. Looking forward to the heat of Arabia soon...

Happy is the man, I thought, who, before dying, has the good fortune to sail the Aegean sea.

 – Nikos Kazantzakis, Zorba the Greek

It's just a bit after 8 AM on the 22nd. We've had our breakfast and will be heading down to join our excursion in Katakolon at 9. Yesterday, Captain Olav kept us close to the Grecian coastline, threading our way between islands and mainland, so we could enjoy the snow-capped peaks and clear blue water. It was more a scenic cruising day than a sea day. We frittered away the time admiring the views and catching up on the blog. 

I also started re-reading the first book in the Game of Thrones series again. It's been a few years since I read it and set it aside when my favorite character was killed off. I'm still disappointed to know that the one I'd picked as my hero is doomed, but I'm enjoying the use of language, the world building and the story crafting ability of George RR Martin. I'm looking for other favorites now, and I won't make the mistake of picking just one this time.

Katakolon is our 16th new-to-us port on this third-time's-the-charm world cruise itinerary. We are loving all our new adventures, and discovering new things about the places we've visited before. If we were thrust back to the medieval world in Dubrovnik, our stop today takes us back 4000 years to the site of the original Olympic games! 

Olympia is an active archaeological site, with an ongoing dig. Our guide, Vasilyi is an archaeologist with a masters in geology, who grew up 700 meters from Olympia. He and his friends played among the tumbled ruins when they were children. He theorizes the area was chosen for the games and for the location of Zeus' temple (one of the wonders of the ancient world) because of frequent lightning strikes in the area. Zeus is associated with lightning, but Vasiliyi credits the high iron content of the earth in that area for all the lightning strikes.  

Olympia, not to be confused with Mt. Olympus, the home of the gods, is where the games began as a way to establish and enforce peace between frequently warring city-states. A three month truce surrounding the games was strictly enforced. Only foot races, discus throwing and wrestling competitions were included and only male athletes need apply. The games were conducted in the nude and the only female allowed to attend as a spectator was the priestess of Hera, who had a temple on the grounds.

Kronos's Hill, the supposed burial site of Kronos, last of the Titans and Zeus's father. Olympia had temples to Zeus, Hera, and Rhea (Zeus's mother) but only a gravesite for the last of Titans after Zeus killed him. 

An artists' rendering of Zeus & Nike

The temple of Zeus housed a 60 ft tall seated statue of the god. The flesh parts of him were covered with ivory and his raiment was gold. Nothing of the statue remains. Our guide believes it was destroyed so the gold could be melted down.

The temple was pulled down too. Some think it was due to earthquakes because Greece is second only to Iceland in European seismic activity. But our guide doesn't think so. If an ancient building falls in a quake, its columns usually fall to one side. The remains of the temple of Zeus were found scattered in all directions. He thinks many centuries later most of the columns were dismantled to retrieve the lead in the center to be melted down for bullets. 

After walking the site and viewing the long stadium area where the races were held, we visited a museum that housed that had been removed from the sanctuary (which is what the Olympia site is called.) It was in use from the 10th century BC to 426 AD when Emperor Theodosius closed all outdoor sanctuaries.

This collection of statues rested on the pediments of the temple of Zeus. The gable roof of the temple soared high above all other buildings in the sanctuary area, as befitted the king of the gods of Olympus.

There was a lot of walking involved and my phone counted over 9000 steps, but it was a beautiful sunny day with regular stops and a guide who realized it was better to have an easy way to return to the bus instead of going back up the long steep incline we'd walked down. So kudos for that! 

I'll finish with the DH's photo montage: 

More soon...