I think I have some post-Parthenon depression – which may explain the glass of ouzo I'm sipping tonight. While happy to be back in Washington I still can’t stop thinking about our recent trip to Greece. A trip to Greece this summer is unlikely and practically impossible, but I need to start planning ahead for next summer or even a spring break trip for Evan next year.
After all, I have still only ever been in three countries – and that’s counting the United States. For the record, besides Greece and America the United Kingdom rounds out my unworldly itinerary; I’m not counting using the W.C. during a refueling stop in Dublin in 1978, or changing planes in Paris two years ago – though we did spend 2 hours there in one stretch and I bought a French candy bar made with I think slugs – or Frankfurt last week since we spent most of our time in Deutschland either in line at customs or in a Starbucks.
Nothing would please me more than to go somewhere oversees – to a new continent - every other summer. Chile, Mexico, Malaysia, Ghana (wimping out and going stable in Africa) or South Africa, France, Italy and of course regular trips back to Greece. Need to get serious about this plan and come up with a ‘winning the lottery’ strategy soon.
Greeks and Germans
After flying Lufthansa and spending a week in Greece seemingly surrounded by Germans it boggles my mind that anyone could have ever thought that these jokers were the master race.
The Germans are certainly good at some things – I mean good things like making cars and washing machines. At one point in the their history their trains reportedly ran on time (this trip their planes did NOT).
And now they have made countries like Greece, Portugal, Spain, Ireland, parts of Italy, etc. slaves to the(ir) common currency. Granted, some of those wounds, especially in the case Greece, were self-inflicted but often times the device was provided by Germans.
Germany’s economic dominance must really get under the skin of people like the Greeks, French and Italians (we know it bothers the Brits; that’s one reason they’ve seen the Euro but are sticking with the Pound). For though good at manufacturing the Germans have very little style or grace. Their language demonstrates that quite vividly.
But the way they dress, in a pseudo and un-convincing American style (ugly jeans, goofy t-shirts, blouses with all manners of gee-gaws for the women, etc.), the way they eat (if any group is more embarrassing to behold at an all-you-can-eat hotel breakfast bar than Americans it is the Germans; they hoard, and eat with their mouth open; put a sock in it Wilhelm!), and the way they act must give more civilized peoples pause.
What does a citizen of France think when they see a German stuffing their face with cooked Vienna sausages? What does a Hellene think about when they hear an unsmiling German complain about their hotel room? I know an American thinks these folks are crazy to have bought into the notion that they were the master race.
Trip to Epidauros
I touched on it briefly in my last post, but I really dug our day trip to Epidauros. I finally posted the video from there on my Facebook page.
Modern Greece was the bookends, with the glory of Greece in the middle.
Our day started in the Athens bus station; we were planning on taking a ferry to the nearby island of Poros but the weather kept us on land. The buses in Greece are clean and modern and comfortable, but as you can imagine the bus station was a different story. It was a fairly grungy place with an incredible range of people, from well-off Athenians traveling to their home villages to lots of beggars and immigrant vendors hawking all kinds of bootleg stuff. The saddest had to be the four or five-year old Albanian accordion player going table to table. The poverty and want really freaked Ariadne out a bit. We were both relieved when the bus for Nafplion left on time (actually two minutes early – in Greece!).
The bus ride back was pretty mellow. The bus was only half full, with many immigrants from Albania and south Asia on the ride back to Athens. The new multi-cultural Greece was on display there and back.
From the bus station we end up in Nafplion, one of Greece's loveliest towns. After lunch on the main square - I had a fantastic pizza looking out on the first capital of building of modern Greece - we were able to do a little shopping for worry beads. There’s even a worry bead museum in Nafplion. If I do win the lottery, I would seriously consider buying a house in Nafplion.
We then took another bus to Epidauros (no poverty at the Nafplion station, just a few guys playing backgammon).
Ariadne and I arrived in Epidauros to find the theater overrun with two bus loads of American high school students. Their chaperons were very impressed by the acoustics of the theater but their students were primarily interested in running up and down the aisles and yelling down at their classmates on the stage. Most of them had it backwards; you can hear someone whisper on the stage from the top of the theater NOT the other way around.
Then magically they got in their buses and left us alone. Ariadne and I had the place to our selves, with just birds and bugs in the background, which was magical. The acoustics are so clear and perfect that you can feel your voice bounce back on you when you speak from the stage. The video I took doesn’t capture that effect, but it was impressive and worth the trip through the bus station.
I thought about the bus station and Epidauros as I read Paul Theroux's essay in today's New York Times on the everlasting virtues of travel. Despite the TSA restrictions, the cramped seating in coach, Germans and poverty and bus loads of kids, it's worth it. Sign me up for another trip (after someone sends me the winning lottery numbers). 
