Day Sixteen of Trip

We came through the Bosporus to Istanbul, the west on the northwest, the residential east on the other side. This is a huge city, twice the size of New York, with minarets and mosques everywhere, most buildings low in fear of the earthquakes. The hill where the St Sophia, The Blue Mosque and Topkapi sit dominates the eastern side. The early Greeks came here 600 years before Christ, to Byzantium, the Persians took it, then Alexander. The Roman Empire moved here and Constantine recreated it as Constantinople, Justinian (with the infamous Theodora) built St. Sophia in the sixth Century, the Crusaders took it and held it for almost one hundred years then Mehmet 11 took it, named it Istanbul and built Topkapi Palace. Suleyman 1 "The Magnificant" solidified the Ottomans. Modern Istanbul was created by Mustafa Kemal, "Ataturk".
The city is stupendous, sprawling and diverse. The architecture is the same. Regrettably Sophia--one of the real reasons to come here--was closed but we went to Topkapi, the Blue Mosque and the old town. Topkapi is filled with the most extraordinary relics from Old and New testament times and from Mohamed. We had lunch in a terrific restaurant--so good I encouraged wandering Europeans to try it. We went to the bazaar with its thousands of shops--you could spend your lifetime searching it--and ended up on a small boat as we cruised the Bosporus along the east and west shore. (There is a lot of money here.)
A very different place from other stops and from the West.

Day Fourteen of Trip

Another beautiful day. We have signed on to see the catacombs of Odessa. I am a bit vague on all this. All of these underground places were created by people who were mining under their houses for limestone rather than quarrying it offsite. So they built their houses up on their excavations underground. This has created a warren of catacombs throughout Europe. This sounds totally mad to me. Nor do I understand the relationship between these mines and the phrase "underground" for "resistance," if there is any relationship at all. This place we visited today was a meticulous reconstruction. 47 people lived here during the German occupation and all of them were killed as a result of an informer. This is a lovely old nineteenth century town;  staying in an underground tomb is a terrible waste of a day here.
It got worse. In a desperate effort to exorcise the experience we decided to walk around town freelance. After a nice start in the center of town we followed our map which turned out to be erroneous and slid slightly east, off the hill overlooking the harbor and ended up in the industrial area filled with old bolshevik symbols, old and angry bolshevik men and taxis who would not stop for us . The time for the ship's leaving was ticking down and I was seriously worried. I knew we were close but I had no idea how to get there. We were saved by a Ukrainian who used to deliver pizzas for Domino's in Charlottesville. He drove us directly to the ship--but would not have without everything in my wallet.
Life lessons: Never travel without a phone that works, never travel alone to an area where you do not know the language or the alphabet, avoid areas where you might depend upon the good-will of people with old political grudges towards some group you remotely resemble and always get the harbor-master's number when you leave a ship.
Back on board with the best glass of wine of the year.

Day Thirteen of Trip

Odessa.
We are tied up to a working port. The city is actually above, up the famous Potemkin Steps. This is a city famous for its culture, especially its music. Strangely it was fought over savagely by the Germans and their Romanian allies and it was little damaged because the Germans had promised the city to the Romanians and they tried to keep it intact. We walked along the upper area near the steps with young men selling pictures with small eagles or big hawks, down towards City Hall with its hourly chimes past the London Hotel where Chekhov lived. The Opera House has been repaired and is quite spectacular. There is an appreciation of elegance here that is palpable. There is at least one performance here every day.
We followed on to Trotsky's House (a cousin) and it was beautiful. One of the tour played List's piano. A wedding was in the works in the courtyard below and one of the operatic students sang--she was terrific.
We drove around town, a toen filled with memorials, and had lunch in an old tavern by the park with a wonderful troup of Ukrainian singers and dancers.
On the way to the ship I was interviewed by some earnest young women with a camera--I was not sure who they were or if they were news or publicity. 

Day Twelve of Trip

We have moved to the dock in Yalta and can get directly off the ship.
Yalta was a famous resort area for the well-to-do. Tolstoy, Chekhov and Gorky came here. And, of course, the Romanovs. The Romanovs built the Livadia Palace for the summer here and planned, in their simpleness, to retire here under the auspice of the murderous Bolsheviks Of course the Livadia Palace became the meeting place for the Big Three powers at the end of the Second World War.
We are going to see the Palace, the Vorontsov Palace.
The town is crowded with small streets and an active market where food is brought in over the mountains daily. There is also some political meeting as well as a road race to finish off any semblance of order. Our guide is very unhappy with the separation of the Ukraine from Russia. Most locals are. The Ukraine is 70% Russian and the province where Yalta is  has repeatedly elected communists to the government, the only province to do so. Lenin statues are still up and striving.
We wind through the streets and somehow go through a roadblock to Livadia, the White Palace. Modern times demand it be seen as the site of the Yalta Conference but it is much more interesting as the Romanovs' home. There is something domestic about the place and the place has been well managed, windows open over gardens, pictures up. Really a sad and lovely place. One can feel the family here.
We drive to the Vorontsov Palace, the home of Russia's wealthiest man and on the way see the Swallow's Nest, a home built on the edge of a cliff by, presumably, a madman.
The Vorontsov Palace is not as moving as Livadia but it is memorable. It was designed by a Brit and has four different styles of facings, one on each side of the house. There is a lovely interior room with an interior garden and a lovely dining room.
The trip back was filled with appropriate Russian traffic and angst.
We walked along the long, wide port walkway with its surprisingly upscale shops and large parks. It is really a beautiful town with what seems like a long road ahead.

Day Eleven of Trip

I could not stay awake for the helicopter transfer but it apparently went very smoothly. This guy is hurt, a bad head injury. The ship turned around again and we got into Yalta today. We lost our berth at the dock because we were late and are now anchored off at sea. The weather is rough with wind and high seas, too rough for tender transfers. This is just a hint of the weather that gave the Black Sea the name The Inhospitable Sea by the Greeks.

The staff is upset because we lost our berth (to the dreaded Regent Lines, their sworn enemy) and because this sea anchor means we will lose a day somewhere. The captain has decided to stay here and forgo the planned stop at Sevastopol. (It is a stop with military history and stimulated Tolstoy's first book.)

Yalta is famous for the Yalta conference that divided Europe up--for better of worse--after the Second World War. But it is the site of the Romanov's summer home (used for the Conference) and that should be of interest. It is in a province of the Ukraine and has the Ukraine's only communist government. Surprisingly, 70% of the population of the entire country is Russian.

From the sea it is a lovely town, small streets and buildings, a large walkway along the dock with a lot of people.

Day Ten of the Trip

A travel day at sea. Nothing but sea. It is a wonderfully relaxing experience in nice weather and a calm sea. We are going to the Black Sea. From now on it is a trip of passages, passage through The Dardanelles where Xerxes whipped the water (Byron's Hellespont), through the Marmosa Sea with its huge boats and transports, then through the Bosporus, surrounded by Istanbul.into the Black Sea where, for the last three thousand years, everything bound from the East to Europe has passed.

There are two currents in the Bosporus, the upper one from the Black Sea through the strait to the Mediterranean and the lower one back through the straits to the Black Sea. It is 2000 meters deep, fed by four of the five largest rivers in Europe. Those rivers bring huge amounts of organic material from cities and farms to the Sea, organic material that needs oxygen. It is so demanding a cycle that the O2 is quickly used up and O2 is stripped from sulphate creating hydrogen sulphate (H2S), a poison which makes the water below 200 meters anoxic and poisonous. Nothing lives there and wrecks lie frozen in time.

We pass through the Dardanelles at 5 a.m. and work our way up to Istanbul and into the Black Sea. It is inky but, as it is still early in the year, calm. It was here the Scythian settled, then the Pontic Greek traders, then the wonderful Sarmatians, the Goths from the north, Huns, Khazars, Turkic nomads and the Mongol-Taters of the Golden Horde. Here Genoa and Venice became the navel arm of the Ottomans.

It was here that Jason and his Argonauts sailed to Colchis (up the river Phasis) to get the golden fleece because it was the end of the world.

A formal night at dinner and I am under-dressed. I regret it.

After dinner there is an announcement: An engineer has fallen below decks and is badly hurt. After some debate the ship turns around to meet a helicopter from Istanbul. They are going to do a helicopter transfer in the dead of night off the ship in the middle of the Black Sea.

Day Nine of Trip

I have never been to Samos, close to Turkey. It's very different, a big island, a big town. And green, not the forbidding grey of Mykinos and the western islands.
This is a working town with markets selling to islanders, children and fewer restaurants. Still with trinkets but one gets the impression that the tourists are there as an addition, not the cause, of the place.
Life is expensive here. We spent a lot of time in the markets and this is a difficult period for these people. And I expect it will only get worse.
A lot of travel offers here to Greece and Turkey.
We had a wonderful dinner in the specialty Italian restaurant.
Tonight we leave for the Black Sea.

Eight Day of Trip

We left Napthion to one of the obligatory Greek Island stops, Myconos. The winds were high and several cruise ships backed away and did not stop. Mom was a bit unwell in the weather.

This town is a tourist trap disguised as a fishing village. I think travelers hold it in low regard. It is still a pretty town with some nice beaches, the town a crowded group of white single story homes with narrow streets and countless tiny churches. It is a sliver of an island with a calm bay and rough water just thirty yards away on the other side of the island. We had a brunch on the dock side. It was quiet with few ships due to the winds.

There is a group of dancers on the ship, women with dancing shoes accommodated by professional male dancers, a pro woman or two for balance. They are all Asian and their husbands spend their time in the casino while the women dance to the ship's band, a Filipino group that is pretty good when they stay away from Elvis imitation.

The official story--i.e. rumor--is that the ship's capacity is about 1500, there are 480 on board with 580 crew.

Day Seven of Trip

We left Athens and arrived in Napthion. I remember the first time I ever came here out of the northern mountains on a bus on Easter, where the smell and smoke of lamb hung over the town like a fog. Things are a lot less provincial now but the town is no less charming. There are several fortifications, a huge one overlooking the town that kids challenge each-other and themselves to climb, and and an old Turkish fort in the harbor.

The town is alive; people live here, not just entertain four hour visitors.There is a large, wide dock-front with restaurants. There are kids everywhere, small streets with tiny businesses and a bustle. The weather is lovely. The town is quite old--a common stop in Peloponnese where people visit Mycenae and  Epidarvos. Some backpackers as well. We had a lunch on a small square with a soccer game and no graffiti.

Back on board we had another wonderful dinner.

There is a casino on board, mostly empty except for a few Asians. Saw the Penn State-Va game there.

Day Six of Trip

Went to Athens, first to the Acropolis and then to the museum.

There has been a lot of work done on the site, a lot is going on now. Much less access. Another beautiful day. The ruins as always are spectacular. The museum is new and built upon an archeological dig; the first floor is glass and the impact is remarkable.

The Acropolis has been destroyed several times, importantly by the Persians and much later by the Turks (who used it as an ammo storage dump and had it explode.) When the ancient Greeks rebuilt it after the Persians, they held the destroyed part in high regard and buried it carefully on the site so it was all retrievable for the new museum. Some was destroyed by remarkably careless archeologists, some by the same not knowing the friezes were of a single piece and some simply stolen (Lord Elgin.)

Back at the ship we had dinner with the Brits again. I'm sure the contractor has some stories but he won't bite. The wife has gluten intolerance.

The rumor is the ship is one half empty and it looks it. 

Day Five of Trip

We left this lovely place for the ship with some regret. This has been a worthwhile extravagance--not a common phrase from me.

The driver was much more interested in talking about Onassis and Mrs. Kennedy than the financial problems but was as suspicious of conspiracy against the Greeks as the previous drivers.
Embarkation was surprisingly simple and the ship is beautiful. We noticed the smallness of the room after Laginesse.

There is a noticeable change in the staff, some effort to be chums. ("Beautiful--not the presentation, the lady.") We have an expressive wine steward. There are very few people at dinner. Our table of eight has only four, our partners are British, the man a former contractor for the U.S. Navy, the wife a former entertainer.

We will go to Athens again tomorrow.

Day Four of Trip

Feeling better and sleeping better.

Spent much of the day walking, lounging at the beach and reading. The weather and atmosphere is as lovely as possible. It is much easier to be a philosopher here.

There is an Asian theme restaurant here and I of course wanted to avoid it; I wanted a repeat of the risotto. I was outvoted and we went to the Asian place. It is located at the far from the room at the base of the peninsula and it was a beautiful walk. The setting looked like a postcard on the water. The other restaurants were on the sea, this one was on a small harbor with a few fishing boats tied up on the dock or at anchor. I was almost embarrassed at the privilege of being there.

I had the duck. It was one of the best meals I've ever had.

Day Three of Trip

Still with difficulty sleeping. And making change and calculating tips. I am afflicted with jet lag more than most.

The weather is beautiful, cloudless and hot. Walked the peninsula today. There are a number of restaurants, a beautiful common pool, a center where we had an excessive breakfast and a cabana-like beach. There is an outdoor movie, too. There seems to be a town across the bay but there are few lights; perhaps weekend homes.

The phones do not work nor is there wi-fi. Apparently I have made an electronics error and such things must be arranged before one crosses national boarders. People and drugs can cross borders easily but not wi-fi.

Rested and read on the porch by the pool overlooking the sea. The place is gorgeous.

Went to the Greek restaurant (they rotate) with a lot of Russians, tough Greek men with beautiful, throaty Greek women. I never got past the salad I was so full. A lot of fish along the shore in the lighting.

I think my clock is beginning to adjust.

Day Two of Trip

We woke up late and missed breakfast. After good coffee we wandered around the old town area and came across the hotel we stayed in years ago. It is actually nicer, still with a lovely view of the Acropolis from the rooftop restaurant. In spite of being a rather low end hotel--or used to be--it remains one of the tallest buildings in the area. Earthquakes make builders very conservative.

We found an old church knee deep in the old town below. There were more people; the area was so much livelier and I was reassured about the town. An optometrist fixed a pair of glasses for us and would not accept any money--charity being a good indicator of confidence, if not success.

We were scheduled to go to a resort, Lagonissi, for several days before joining the ship. It is along the southern shore. We had never done anything like this before and did not know what to expect.

A driver picked us up after noon and we drove easily. There must be some limo driver indoctrination school; this driver was more convinced about conspiracies against Greece than the first. We found the resort on a small, privately owned peninsula. There was no town in the immediate area. The room was gorgeous, large with a large and beautiful bath and a huge porch overlooking the sea. And the room's private pool. Staggeringly expensive, lazily elegant; just terrific.

We relaxed, struggled with jet lag and had a fabulous dinner at their Italian restaurant.

Day One of Trip

An uneventful flight into Athens aside from two screaming babies, a tiny one behind and a middle aged one directly in front.
We took a limo into town from the new airport on the new, German owned road. Beautiful drive. The driver was the owner and was furious at everyone over the Greek economic problems--the Greek government, the Chinese and the Germans. The presumed motive is to crush the economy and turn Greece into a European China and a cheap producer for the rest of  Europe. The driver believed that democracy does not work in Greece and the Greeks need a dictatorship.
The Hotel Grande Bretagne has been completely redone with a smaller check-in, the restaurant replaced with a upbeat bar/lounge. The room was lovely and overlooked the square.
It was Sunday and a bit slow but I thought the town looked poor and sad. A shocking amount of graffiti, always a bad sign.
Church was unusual: Latin mass, the congregation mostly Filipino and Malaysian, the gospel in English and Greek, the sermon in French and Portuguese.
We had dinner on at the roof restaurant looking at the Acropolis. The crowd was curious with elegant women and casual men.
It was hard to sleep with the jet lag.