Going Greek in Naxos & Athens (by Jessica)

It’s always been my dream to travel to Greece. Why wouldn’t it be? Sunshine, bright blue skies, friendly people, turquoise ocean, fresh seafood, white and blue domes… and it’s even better than I could have imagined. Santorini was the pampered, ultimate vacation experience. I was sad to leave our Olympian villa oasis. I thought that our next island destination, Naxos, couldn’t compete with the best. Well, I was wrong. We boarded the ferry for Naxos and arrived in the late afternoon a few hours later. Instead of the imposing cliffs of Santorini, we found a dry, mountainous island with a picturesque town and marina stretching along the blue, blue shore.

We walked the comfortable kilometre along the boardwalk towards our accommodation past dozens of seaside restaurants, all claiming to have the best home cooking, the most authentic Greek cuisine, the freshest seafood and the oldest establishment. It was like we had the island to ourselves, like we didn’t get the memo that the tourists have all left for the summer. September is the best time to visit Greece. The weather is sunny and in the high 20s, and still nice enough to make an ocean swim tempting. The turquoise ocean is still warm from the summer heat. The tourist industry workers are tired and relaxed after the busy season and aren’t aggressive to sell. Everyone is extremely friendly, and prices are more competitive or negotiable. Best of all, there are much fewer tourists, so we enjoyed our pick of beach space, the attention of waiters, and a choice of discounted accommodations.

We had an idea where our studio apartment rental was located, and asked a few locals along the way until we found it hidden on a lovely street just a few steps from the beach and a quick walk to town. A smiling woman met us at Antony Studios (not to be confused with Antonio or Antonia Studios in the same neighbourhood) and let us into our spacious room with kitchenette and a balcony overlooking the lane. The whole place had the laid back, beachy feel of a vacation apartment and we felt immediately happy with our choice of coming to Naxos. Gone was the luxury of Santorini, but here we felt a simpler, family-friendly approach to a good time at much more affordable prices.

We dropped our stuff, threw all of our laundry into a mega bag and trotted it over to the neighbourhood lady who charges 10euros per bag to wash and fold. Laundry in Santorini was out of the question. Already in our swimming gear, we skipped to the beach, happily anticipating clean clothes and warm waves. It was already late afternoon, nearly sunset, and we found the calm, sandy bay lined with restaurants with empty lounge chairs.

It had been awhile since we’d eaten the small, overpriced sandwiches on the ferry, and dinner wouldn’t be for a few hours. We decided to camp out at a table in the sand, ordered a few classic Greek appetizers with some house vino, and went for a quick dip in the ocean. The bay was surprisingly shallow and warm, and we had to wade out quite a ways before we could do any real swimming. By the time we were back on shore, our food had arrived and we filled our hunger with tzatiki, hummous, babaganoush, bread, and some Greek salad while the sun set over the water.

We picked up our impeccably clean laundry and, before we knew it, dinner time was rolling around. We walked back to the restaurant strip and shopped the menus up and down, and spoke with all the staff at each place about their specials and catches of the day. Finally, we came upon our perfect table and menu next to the marina. Their deal of a fresh grilled fish, potatoes, salad and a ½ litre of wine won us over.

The next morning we headed out into the village to explore on foot, and also to shop around for a rental car for the next day’s excursion around the island. The village’s souvenir and touristy shops were cute, but the best part came when we climbed up and around the maze that is the oldest part of town. The old town was settled by Venetians during their glory days in the 1600s, and walking around their twisty alleys and shady spots were one of the highlights of our stay in Naxos. Not only were the alleys empty of all people, but we felt like we were interrupting a secret, very special place. The only signs of life were a few cats lounging in the sun, and some wash hanging to dry in the wind. There were no shops, no tourists…just us, the sun, the salty wind, and the white, white buildings against the blue, blue sky. Then, we heard something. It was a piano! A concert pianist was practicing his evening performance on the stage of a small outdoor venue overlooking the ocean. It was our private show. Heaven on earth? It qualifies in my books.

Our walk continued towards the Portara, the island’s landmark Venetian marble arch that greets all arrivals. The Portara is on a tiny island off the coast, connected by a break wall. On one side of the break wall, the ocean’s huge waves crash with fury. On the other, the waters are calm and locals go swimming. We rushed along the wall and barely missed a full soak, but we were pleasantly sprinkled with salt water.

Lunch was back in the village, served by a little old woman who is owner, server and chef of her establishment, cheerily decorated with decades of kitsch. Oli loved his gyro platter, and I dug into an assortment of little dishes suggested by our kind hostess. Across the street were a few rental car places, so we obtained several quotes for a day of touring. Most places have all of their vehicles available, dying on the lot, so we were able to get aggressive prices and had the pick of the island. We ended up booking a mint green VW Bug look-alike convertible from the island’s “Fun Car” agency. Fun, here we come! We ended the day at the beach again, with another great sunset and more delicious Greek food.

Oli went to get our Fun Car at 9am the next day. We learned of two fun surprises. First, the car was a permanent convertible; there was no roof. We eyed the usually 100% blue sky and spotted a few little clouds. But what were the odds that it would rain? We’d take our chances. Second, the car had all the oomph of a supped up golf cart. It looked cute, but we wouldn’t win any races. Well, at least it was a manual transmission, so pilot Oli could shift around the curvy mountain roads. For 35 euros, we couldn’t ask for much more.

Map in hand (with hand-drawn arrows on our suggested route from the Fun Car lady), we set off. The car climbed high into the mountains and we could see the whole island and well beyond. Our first stop was the site of an ancient marble quarry and workers’ village, where the Greeks obtained most of their marble for architecture and statues in Athens. The footprint of the former village was clear, as were several broken and abandoned statues scattered several kilometres around the site.

Back in the car, we climbed even higher and we were suddenly much colder, up in the misty clouds, with spectacular 360 views. As we drove through the mountains, we noticed entire peaks were carved up, with sheer faces showing where the machines had dug slabs of marble. The mountains had been mutilated.

We blasted the heat and headed back down, to the other side of the island this time, and spiralled downwards through back-shifting roads to the water. The cliffs and narrow roads made me close my eyes while Oli drove the challenging course like a pro. Once down, we found a seaside restaurant with a selection of freshly caught fish and the fishing boat to prove it. The service was incredibly slow, but we sat beside the crashing waves in the shade of some scrubby trees while the cats begged for food at neighbouring tables. Finally our fish arrived, and it was our turn to be stared down by the kittie gang.

Next stop were some beaches. We found them, deserted and pristine, but by then the temperature had dropped and we weren’t enticed by swimming. The last item on our itinerary was another ancient Greek site, but we couldn’t find it after several drive-bys. Before dropping off the car, we filled up with gas and got our third surprise of the day; the little golf cart guzzled gas! All of that hill climbing and descending cost 30 euros in gas. We couldn’t believe it.

Our final day in Naxos involved some more beach time. We wanted to lie on one of the hundreds of lounge chairs, but each set is owned by the adjoining restaurant and you can’t lounge for free. Even if we ordered lunch there, the chairs were not negotiable. Instead, we headed back to our inn and borrowed some grass mats and water floaties to set-up camp on the free sandy section. One girl nearby, who happened to be particularly curvy and obviously proud of it, was dressed in the only bikini thong on the beach. After a quick dip to display her large buns, she decided that she would sunbathe topless, slather oil all over her body, and roast her humungous, glistening breasts in the sun. As we took a walk along the beach, we noticed that many women, although mostly over the age of 50, were also displaying their browned boobs while reading, eating lunch, playing a board game or simply crisping during a nap. Those Europeans.

Our final day in Naxos involved more beach time, more eating of delicious seafood and heavenly tomatoes, more house wine and slabs of feta. After a cheap gyro snack, we lined up for the ferry and waited…and waited. The boat was late, but it showed up nonetheless. It was a long, wavy ride back to Athens. I remember the ship’s cleaning crew working hard to mop up the frequent seasickness accidents, and trying hard to keep my cookies firmly untossed. Back on terra firma, we jumped onto a train and headed into the city.

ATHENS

We met some fellow Canadians on the train, backpackers on honeymoon. When we got out of the train, we flagged a taxi to take us the rest of the way to our hotel. Since we were returning to the same hotel, we knew where to go and how much it would cost. Our driver took off and after a few blocks we noticed that there was no meter running. Oli spoke up and asked to turn on the meter. The driver replied that there was no meter, flat rate only. How much would be charging us? Fifteen euros, three times the five euros it should cost on a meter! We yelled at the driver and told him to stop, that we wanted out, that he was ripping us off. When he kept driving, Oli started to open the car door to get his attention. That worked, and the cabbie pulled over out of fear of damaging his cab. We insisted he drop his price. There was haggling. In the end, all worked out and we earned his respect. He started to call us “friend”! Once safely delivered at the hotel, we went out for a bite to eat and crashed hard into bed. The next day was set aside for sightseeing!

We awoke bright and early to switch to a downtown hotel, where we used a free weekend night to check-in to the Hotel Grande-Bretagne, a classy but stuffy hotel in a great location. We received champagne and cookies as we checked in, but our room wasn’t ready so we headed out to find some lunch and see the city. Taking directions from the check-in lady, we found ourselves in the ultra touristy neighbourhood where lunch would cost a salty 20 euros each. We shopped around and found a nice outdoor terrace with decent prices. After having experienced the best, freshest Greek food on the islands, Athens couldn’t hold a candle to our expectations for delicious, cheap fare. At the table next to us were a lovely retired couple from Argentina, and we struck up a conversation about our time in Buenos Aires. Suddenly, I found myself searching for words and sentences. My Spanish had become rusty!

Back at the hotel, we checked into a room with early 20^th century British décor that felt like a Queen’s boudoir….a bit of creepy mixed with posh, and facing a brick wall. No Acropolis view for us. Instead, we headed back out and hiked up to the Acropolis for a close-up view. We got a bit confused and headed up the wrong side of the hill, until we met a Mexican couple and steered ourselves in the right direction. Again, we conversed in Spanish and I was again frustrated with my brain freeze. I vowed to find some Spanish speakers back in Canada to make friends and practice.

At the Acropolis, we paid the entry tickets and wandered the sites. It was busy and we could only imagine how swamped and hot it would have been during high summer season. I was patient and got a few photos without any tourists, and the views overlooking the city were truly impressive. We spotted many of the ancient sites with an excellent bird’s eye view, which was enough for me without having to go there and walk around the fallen columns. I was a bit underwhelmed by the Acropolis and its many buildings, all under perpetual restoration, paid from the coffers of the bankrupt Greek state. It’s hard to tell which parts are original or which are reconstructed at this point, and what it must have looked like all those centuries ago. The buildings’ accomplished beauty and historical significance are truly mind-boggling, though, and I tried to imagine these buildings being built during the Golden Age of 400BC. The worn marble pathways and stairs are all extremely slippery, like walking on smooth ice, and the tour groups barrelled forward to block our views. I decided that the Acropolis is impressive, but that it looks much more beautiful from a distance, dominating the city landscape.

That evening we went to the rooftop of our hotel, where a swanky open-air lounge was in full swing. We ducked a few intimate tables for two to stand at the edge and admire the Acropolis, bathed in light, its columns still standing over Athens as they always have.

The next day we did a little work-out at the gym, did a dash for some Greek fast-food (more gyros!) and hunted down what is supposedly the best place in town for baklava! The famous cake, a crispy pastry soaked in honey and crunchy with pistachios, was so worth it, but then we were getting to be tight on time to get on the subway, get to the airport and catch our flight to Amsterdam. We said a little prayer to our travel god Iquique (pronounced Ee-kee-kay, named after the Chilean airport that benevolently didn’t charge us the $120/person to land) and got on the metro, which took us smoothly to the airport in record time. We bid farewell to the sunshine and heat, knowing full well that Amsterdam would be cold and rainy, and promised to return to this fantastic country soon.