Photos From Greece!

Near the rooftop pool in Athens.

Our campsite on Milos. Yep, we had to hike down that cliff every night. Best campsite ever! Volcanic sand to warm ones toes.

Just like Heaven.

At the church on the top summit of the capital of Milos, Plaka. Seems like every island in Greece has a capital named Plaka. The island in the distance behind me looked like it was floating on air, kind of like Miyazaki's Castle In The Sky.

Conner in Athens, rooftop pool.

Totally rad print that was in our hotel room on Agistri.

Coastal climbing on Milos

Coastal Climbing

The other day Conner and I decided to do a little coastal hiking; got some physical activity in after days of lounging. Milos has a very rocky coastline punctuated here and there by stretches of sandy beaches, but for the most part it's largely made up of big boulders that have tumbled down the cliff into the sea.

The rough volcanic boulders are actually quite easy to scale with tennis shoes despite their size. While pretending that we were doing much more strenuous mountain climbing than we actually were. I noticed that Conner and I have vastly different climbing styles. He's more like a mountain goat; jumping around on long thin legs. I however, turn straight into the Nirvana baby; my whole body splays out to the four winds. I use my hands, slide down rock faces on my bum, rotate on my stomach to reach the next foothold.

Some of us are just far more graceful in some things.

Salt of the Earth

On this trip I have been fortunate to travel with people who are way more vocal about their need for a shower than myself. After our third night of camping on Agistri, Conner insisted that we finally get a room with a comfortable bed and a cold shower. I think the final straw for him was sleeping on plastic floaties with our sunburned backs; every time you have to turn over, you have to rip your skin off the plastic-it's akin to fleshy Velcro and highly painful.

While biking it was nice to shower off all the dirt rings. In Greece it's nice to wash off a fraction of the salt encrusted onto every part of our bodies. My hair has been raked back into a bun for the greater part of 4 days and now feels exactly like the coif of an original 1950's Barbie doll-total straw.
The salt dries on my skin and renders me the ashiest white girl ever. Conner fares a bit better as the salt just adheres to his leg hair and makes him look like he's been dusted with sugar.

And making out on these idyllic beaches in the moonlight sounds so romantic-and it is-just as long as you can get over the fact that every time you each other's necks, it's exactly like liking a Pringles chip. But you do it anyway because you think, "Wow! My boyfriend finally got rid of his carpenter's tan and how he's all freckly and bronzed. Come 'ere!"

On the upside of life by the highly salty Mediterranean Sea is that no one smells bad here. We all sweat a lot, but everyone just dips in and out of the water so much and washes it all away. No need of Patchouli oil here, mild natural musk will do quite nicely.

Calamity Avoided

I must confess that I'm surprised by how smoothly our Greek vacation has been going. I'm used to Kat and I making endlessly questionable decisions. Yesterday Conner and I, on my suggestion, began hiking up the steep and winding road from the port of Adamas to the hilltop capital of Plaka. It looked like it was a super short distance on the map and I figured it would be an adventure and we could save money on the bus fare.

Now, there are now sidewalks along the roads which are barely wide enough for two cars, and they're rather slick so the car tires are always squealing around the many bends. I could see it happening that Kat and I would both stubbornly press on and two hours later, hot, exhausted, and irritable, we wouldn't be much closer to Plaka than a pin dot. But they would be some good stories after the pain had subsided.

Conner however, after 15 minutes of hugging the small space between the road and the cliff, had the good sense to insist on going back to town and taking the bus to the rugged southern beaches-took all of a 5 minutes bus ride for 2.30 euros.

Calamity avoided.

Milos!

After a bit of indecision we made it to our second Greek Island, Milos. It's claim to fame is the Venus de Milo, discovered in 1820 and battled over by the French and the Prince of Moldavia. Eventually the French won out and purchased it under considerable pressure. The Greeks say that the arms were broken off in a scuffle with the French. The French claim it was already that way. Who's to say? Ah! That rhymed!

Regardless, the French have it now in the Louvre and have sent Milos a copy for their cultural memory. There are several gift shops on the island who's specialty are "re-imagining" the Venus, which usually just involves painting small figurines of the Venus with brightly colored patterns.

The English are another story. The Lord Elgin Marbles, sculptures found on the Acropolis, were sent back to London by way of a controversial permission by the Ottoman Empire who, in 1800, ruled Greece. They are all currently on display in the British Museum in London. There is a huge push by the Greeks to get the British to return the sculptures, but according to one of my couch surfing hosts, no one really expects them to be returned; because then they would have to reckon with the Persians and the Italians, and no one wants to open that can of worms.

There are 74 beaches on Milos, some of the best are on the secluded and undeveloped western end. Only problem is how to get there; all of the 5 bus routes run solely on the eastern end of the island. They have several scooter rentals in the main port, but as we were informed back on Agistri, it used to be that anyone could drive a scooter, but now that they were "European" well, now you have to have a scooter licence.

We took the bus down south to Palechori and hiked west till we found a small secluded beach that we've taken to calling "our beach" despite the other couple that ventures down every day around the same time that we decide to explore and head into town. By the time we come back to have dinner and sleep, they are on their way out. It's a nice dynamic. We haven't seen anyone else camping on any of the beaches, but with our wild Texan mentalities, we figured that we would just wing it. The first night the waves got so loud that we were both wakened with the fear that we would get submerged by the encroaching tide, but no such thing happened. Now I have to say that camping on the beach is entirely the way to go.

Vacation With A View

It takes me a while to fully relax; I'm always feeling like I should be working on one of my various projects. I suppose this was one of the reasons my solo-time in Athens was so difficult. I figured that since I just spent all my time by the pool, I might was well use my time to do research on my next project. I sought out the National Library hoping to find a couple English books on music. No such luck. All in Greek.

side note: I've begun to get a silly amount of pleasure out of the saying, "It's all Greek to me!" A silly amount.

After having been on Agistri for a couple days, I've finally relaxed. Being around Conner also helps: he's a pretty quiet guy who's perfectly happy to sleep, swim, and eat the day away. After spending several days on this very small, very chill island with him doing exactly these things, well, I've eased into them too. I feel like we spend a lot of time gazing out at the sea, with it's various shades of turquoise and the islands in the distance, and not really thinking much of anything-just enjoying the view.

Moondoggie

The nudie beach of Agistri is in actuality, not that nudie, at least not during the week. The weekends see the population triple and many more visitors to this particular beach. The only true nudies during this time are the men, and even then it's the gay couples and the older portly Greek men. The week hosts more of the "beach bums", who would be perfect as extras if they ever remade the cheezy 1950's surf film, Gidget. They pitch tents along the pebbly shore and it seems like the nudist green light goes on with everyone smoothing extra sunscreen onto their slightly paler bits.

Note: Neither Conner nor I have frolicked about naked so there need not be any awkwardness when we all sit down for Thanksgiving in the fall. Just had to set the record straight.