The theatre of Greece - 3

September 30, 2015

M. Gautham Machaiah

Today, I had to wake up at 6 am as we were scheduled to leave the hotel at 7.40 am for a city tour of Athens.

Though I had woken up early, I took my own sweet time to get ready. Thus, I was left with only enough time to quickly tuck in some omelette and bread.

I managed to reach the hotel lobby right on time, but by then all the other guests had already gathered there much in advance. Thankfully, I did not have to face any embarrassment as the travel agent who was to fetch us arrived 15 minutes late.

As we filed into the coach I noticed a couple that looked distinctly Indian. I asked them, "Are you from India?" and husband replied in the affirmative. Our brief interaction ended there.

Our first visit was to the Kallimarmaro stadium. The stadium made of fine marble was constructed in the ancient times to host the Panathenaic Games, in honour of Goddess Athena, the protector of the city of Athens.  In 329 BC, the wooden seats were converted to marble, while in 140 BC, the seating capacity was increased to 50,000. The stadium fell into disuse for many centuries until it was renovated to host the first modern Olympics in 1896. The marble statue of the Greek philanthropist George Averoff, who funded the renovation stands at the entrance.

We spent about 15 minutes taking photographs and then boarded the bus to continue our tour. We passed by several important monuments including the national library, Temple of Zeus and the Parliament. Though most of these buildings and monuments have a rich historical background, in terms of archaeological splendour, India is far ahead.

The Vidhana Soudha in Bangalore is much more majestic than the Greek Parliament, which pales before the Parliament House in New Delhi. Honesty,  most historical buildings could barely complete with some of the structures in Karnataka like the High Court, Balabroohie guest house, Central Library in Cubbon Park, Venkatappa Art Gallery, Town Hall or Crawford Hall in Mysore.

At the Parliament building a huge crowd had gathered to witness the change of guard which takes place every hour. It is a simple affair where four guards replace four others with a little bit of pomp. But this is nothing compared to the splendour of the Presidential guard in India.

While countries like Greece have mastered the art of protecting and showcasing their history, in India, tourism has received apathetic treatment from successive governments. Our tourist destinations do not even have basic infrastructure like good roads and toilets.

After the city tour, the coach brought us to Acropolis Hill, which contains several monuments of historical and architectural importance, including the Parthenon, the most significant of them being the Parthenon. The Parthenon and other buildings were severely damaged during the Morean War in 1687.

Accompanied by our very knowledgeable  guide, our group started climbing the steep rocky surface often halting to take photographs. The guide was so passionate that she stopped every ten minutes to give us a detailed historical lecture.

The Greek government has taken up an ambitious project to restore the Parthenon and other monuments to their original shape spending millions of Euros. I am not sure if such a mammoth exercise in restoration has ever been undertaken anywhere in the world.

In our group, we also had a lady from the United States who was in her late sixties and in very poor health. She could not climb up the steps and had to use the elevator to reach the top of the hill. She was travelling alone and had already visited the islands. At one place she took ill and a doctor had to be summoned, but she continued her tour undeterred. I admired her courage and mocked at myself for being apprehensive about solo travel.

Once we reached the Parthenon on top of the hill, the guide set us free to spend the rest of the time taking photographs. One of the disadvantages of travelling alone is that there is nobody to take your own photograph. This problem was largely solved by the selfie stick.  In India, I would have been embarrassed to take my own pictures in a public place using a selfie stick, but here there was nobody who could recognise me. And so I went around in gay abandon clicking my own pictures. I was a bit grumpy in the first photograph I uploaded on Facebook which prompted a nudge from my sister-in-law Rajeshwari, "Please smile, Gautham." Then on, I was smiling at myself like a fool every time I took a selfie.

The guide had left strict instructions that we should assemble at the foot of the hill by 11.45 pm.  And there we were huddled together right on time like a bunch of school kids.

The Indian couple who I had greeted in the morning, gravitated towards me and started a conversation with the usual ice-breaker: "Where are you from?"

All of us then began walking towards the Acropolis museum. Having explored Athens the previous day, I had become an expert, or so I pretended, offering my teammates tips on what to during the rest of the day.

A tourist from Washington who was observing me clicking selfies walked up to me and offered to take my photographs. "I see that you are travelling alone. How are your selfies coming along? Please let me know if you need me take your photographs. I would not mind it at all," he volunteered.

There was another couple from Johannesburg. The girl got into an animated conversation and I could see that her companion was throwing darts at me. I humoured her a bit, braving the jealous glares and went on to join the Indian couple. This is the advantage of travelling alone. You get to meet a lot of new people, while when travelling in a group you keep to yourself.

In a few minutes we reached the museum, a modern structure which stood out like a sore thumb amidst the archaeological ruins around. The museum holds some of the most important artefacts of Greece right from the prehistoric times.  It has glass flooring through which you can see the explorations that have been conducted deep below.

We spent over an hour here with the guide very proudly explaining each piece of art. I was half tempted to tell her to come to Belur, Halebeed or Khajuraho which would put the entire museum to shame.

The tour ended at 1.30 pm and we were given the choice of either going to the main shopping area at Plaka or to returning to the hotel. Since I had already had an overdose of Plaka last evening, I opted to go back to the hotel. Just as I was wondering how to spend the rest of the day, the bus stopped at a signal light junction and the agent who had picked us up in the morning boarded.

I asked her if there were any tours in the afternoon and she said there was a group going towards the temple of Poseidon at Cape Sounion, 70 km away. So, how do I contact the group? "You do not have to go anywhere. The same bus is going to pick up the group," she said. I was happy the way my tour was panning out. It was as if God had come here in advance and planned everything for me to the last detail.

The agent suggested that I might as well have lunch until the group was picked up and I walked into one of the many small restaurants lining Plaka. I asked for spaghetti which came with an unusual green sauce. It was one of the best spaghettis I have had so far. Wherever I went to in Greece, the food was always above par.

The agent had told me to be ready at 2.30 pm and the bus arrived right on dot. The drive to the Temple of Poseidon was without exaggeration the most scenic. Imagine driving by the blue waters of the Mediterranean for 70 kms. All through we could see people swimming and the guide explained that Greece was a popular swimming spot because the waters were warm and not infested with sharks. This guide was even more enthusiastic than the one in the morning. She spoke non-stop during the entire stretch explaining minute details.

The temple now in ruins was built in 444 BC. Sitting pretty on a peninsula, the temple offered a panoramic view of the sea around. Our guide explained that the British poet Lord Byron was so impressed with the beauty of Cape Sounion, that he wrote:

‘Place me on Sunium’s marbled steep / Where nothing save the waves and I / May hear our mutual murmurs sweep.’

Once again we had some free time for photographs and I shamelessly got busy with selfies. A young couple from Dubai requested me to take a photograph of theirs and I readily agreed. Perhaps sensing that I was alone and jobless a few others came to me with their cameras and I obliged.

At the bottom of the hill, there was a small cafeteria which offered a panoramic view of the Mediterranean. I sat there sipping a strawberry crush and was totally lost in thoughts, until the coach driver came in search of me. I looked at my watch. We were told to return at 5.45 pm and we still had five minutes to go. When I entered the bus, I was a bit embarrassed because I was the last one to return. All through the tour I found that the tourists would always return at least ten minutes before the designated time. Not once anywhere in the tour, were we delayed on account of someone turning up even a minute late.

While I was at Sounion, I received a message from Demetra, the volunteer from This is My Athens, asking if I could be her guest for dinner. I responded that such formality was not necessary and that I had already taken away much of her time last evening. Demetra insisted and I agreed.

I had originally planned to return to the room and catch up on some sleep because I had hardly got any rest ever since I left Bengaluru two days ago. But, what man proposes, God disposes. Earlier, perhaps I would have found an excuse to turn down the invitation. But often these days I go with the flow because I believe that whatever be my plans, the Universe has a better plan for me.

This time, our meeting point was the Evangelismos station. I returned to the room, quickly freshened up and rushed to the Metro station in order not to be late. By now I had become a pro. I managed to buy my own ticket and identify the platform.  All was fine until I suspected that I had actually taken a train in the opposite direction. My hunch was right, I got off at the next station and took the correct train.

When I landed at Evangelismos, Demetra was already there to receive me. We went for a long walk in the neighbourhood before settling down for dinner at a Greek eatery. "I invited you today, not because you paid the bill yesterday, but because I wanted to return your kindness. An act of kindness should be spread," she said as she ordered a whole lot of dishes.

We got to talk about our work, culture and lifestyle. The idea of house ownership, I was told, was virtually unknown in Greece due to the high mortgage rates. "If you avail of a bank loan to buy a house, it will take three generations to repay it," explained Demetra. The concept of high-rise housing apartments or gated communities too is unknown. Most houses are located in semi-commercial areas where shops are located on the ground level with houses on the higher floors.

Our menu today comprised baked vegetables—Greeks love eggplant—kebabs, sausages and some chicken. After a hearty meal, Demetra was kind enough to drop me to station, though she had a long way to walk back home. The Greeks, like the Coorgs definitely have a large heart!

This time I made sure that I took the correct train and double checked with a passenger who incidentally happened to be a pretty Greek girl, before boarding. I reached the hotel within ten minutes.

Finally, I could hit the sack.