Friday, September 2, 2011

02/09/2011 Greece VII: Cambridge to Dion

Today has been a long day. I left Magdalene at 2130 to catch the 2232 to Gatwick (via London Liverpool Street, Bank and London Bridge). The journey was actually fine; far easier and quicker than I was expecting. I arrived at about 0015, to wait for check in to open at 0350. Gatwick is actually an ok airport to spend the night; there are plenty of seats and a 24 hour convenience store.

We boarded without a hitch at 0520. The flight was due to leave at 0550, but because of a "passenger number discrepancy" we sat on the tarmac for an hour whilst desperate-looking air hostesses frantically clicked their head counters.

Eventually, the captain spoke over the tannoy. "Apparently maths is not an opinion", he sighed drily. "Now that the boarding staff have realised this, we can depart". The lead air hostess (I don't know what was her proper title) chipped in, clearly furious. "We apologise for your patience", were her first words, greeted with an appropriate level of mirth. "If you want to complain, then please do so online at www.easyjet.co.uk. I certainly will be".

The flight was a bumpy one, but we made good time thanks to a strong tailwind, landing just 20 minutes after our scheduled arrival. As we disembarked, we were greeted by a blast of warm humidity and a bright Greek sun hanging in a hazy September sky. Annie and Dina met me at arrivals, and we wandered out to find Adamos in the car park.

Instead of wasting a long trip, Annie and Dina decided that it would be nice to pay a visit to Dion (Δίον), a 2000 year old city at the foot of Olympos (Όλυμπος), and the site of temples dedicated to Zeus, Demeter and Isis. Alexander assembled his armies in Dion before marching west to war. It was a sweltering 35 degrees, and apart from a family of Germans we were the only visitors to the site. 


A heron worshipping in the temple of Isis

I love the Greeks, but the Greek attitude towards their cultural heritage leaves something to be desired. On a site that could easily rival Hadrian's Wall, and probably most British archeological digs, the stream was filled with what I would politely describe as gunk, some of the ruins were flooded, most of the city was unexcavated (though we did see three archaeologists working, and several more drinking coffee) and the shop consisted of about eight history books, several faux-marble busts and some postcards.

Enough of the moaning. The site contained some fairly impressive remains, including numerous mosaics, a mostly intact hypocaust, large public baths, cart-rutted roads, Greco-Roman walls, a religious building variously described as an `episcopal basilica' or `cathedral church' and the perennial tourist favourite - the toilets.


Mount Olympos from Dion

The temperature had risen to 37 by the time we left Dion, and we were all ready for lunch. Stopping for petrol, the attendant accidentally left the tank cap on the roof of the car. We drove off, cap fell off, we returned to the petrol station. Cue an hour of ineffectual searching. We finally arrived at Methoni (Μεθώνη), a beautiful fishing village next to the Aegean about an hour after intended. The village, packed with restaurants, was deserted. The proprietor of the place we chose was a friend of Adamos. Mixalis told us that we were his first customers of the week. It was a Saturday. We supped on a delicious meal of shrimp, deep fried mussels, a large fish and sprats (γάβροι), while Mixalis' young son eyed my new camera with a mixture of curiosity and envy.

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