25 April 2007

Athens


Another early morning. According to today's schedule the sunrise is at 06h38. Good thing I didn't stay up past ten last night for the Dutch Dessert Extravaganza.


Today we visit Athens but the port of Athens is actually located in a town slightly to the East called Piraeus which is about a half hour drive from central Athens.

Much like several of the destinations on this trip Athens is a city that I've always wanted to visit but never felt that it warranted an entire trip to itself. So I am glad to be able to finally see whether or not that thinking was correct or not.

My Lonely Planet guidebook has the following to say about the city of Athens:

"The perpetual "high" that novelist Henry Miller experienced during his travels in Greece did not flag when he came to the capital... Miller waxed lyrical about the extraordinary qualities of the city's light and rhythm. Few visitors today, however, share his bubbling enthusiasm. Most beat a hasty retreat after the obligatory visit to the Acropolis and the National Archaeological Museum. Despite its glorious past and enduring influence on Western civilisation, it is a city that few fall in love with. Modern Athens is a vast concrete urban sprawl that suffers badly from the curse of the modern age: pollution."

That sounds promising, don't you think?


Returning to the stateroom after checking out where we are I see that the morning post has arrived. As you can see (and might remember from when I pointed this out on the Alaska trip last year), the daily newspapers that each cabin receives are based on the nationalities of the passengers.

Here we see in the Canadian news that O'Connor is apparently being urged to resign. As I have not actually lived in Canada for almost a decade I have no idea who O'Connor is.


And so we set off for another gruelling day of sight-seeing. People think that cruises are relaxing affairs, and on the days at sea they are, but up early almost every day followed by a long slog through a new city is tiring.


Alongside the Veendam on the dock are some ruins of some kind. In this part of the world public works must be a nightmare because every time you stick a shovel in the ground you find more ruins of ancient civilisation.


Fast forward a LOT. I spare you the drive through the excessive traffic and concrete sprawl of Athens and take you straight to the Olympic Stadium.

Athens was, of course, the site of a recent Olympics but obviously this stadium goes back much further than that. In fact, it was originally built around 400 BC by the Romans, not the Greeks, and was used to host events in the so-called Pan-Athenaic Games.

The stadium is in really good shape, as you can see, and this is because after not being used for thousands of years it was restored in the late 1800s and hosted the first modern Olympics when the tradition was revived in 1896.

Since then it continues to be used for events in Athens, including (I think) part of the ceremonies every four years when they light the torch at Mount Olympia and then (I think) bring it here and do something with it. Or something like that. Anyway, the point is that they still use it.


The word "stadium" apparently comes from the Greek word "stadia" which is a measure of distance (about 200 metres, I think). The length of this stadium must therefore be one stadia which was important for various running events in the Olympics.

Apparently, however, if a running event required running longer distances than 200 metres that in ancient times the runners would just run to one end, turn around and run back, and so on. Apparently the concept of running AROUND a track as we do in modern times never occurred to them, which in itself is odd because chariot events in those times did precisely that. I find this piece of information interesting because there's a big difference to the athlete between running 1000 metres around a track and having to run it in five 200 metre lengths with a turn-around after each length. Not that I could run 1000 metres either way.


On the opposite side from me there are some plaques giving information about the modern Olympic games. Of course I can't read any of it, nor even really guess at what any of it means, thanks to the Greek's helpful alphabet that no one else on the entire planet uses.


This part I think I can guess the meaning of, however, despite the Greek writing. This is a list of the various modern Olympic games. Check out how Sydney is spelled in Greek - Eianey.

Hmmmm. And also notice that the modern Olympics are "numbered" using the letters of the Greek alphabet. Look at the first six or seven (Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, weird E, something else, capital Z) and think back to the sundial we saw from Ephesus yesterday. This raises a question: How do Greek numbers work? Two days in a row we have seen the Greek alphabet used in contexts that we normally associate with numbering systems (IE a clock and a numbered list). Obviously modern Greeks use the 1,2,3,4,5... system of numbers which comes from... what? The Persians or Assyrians or something, right? But what about in ancient times? The ancient Romans, of course, had their Roman Numerals. Surely there was some kind of Greek numbering system as well.

So many questions... and so many answers out there. If only I had Internet access at my house and could find the answers and achieve instant gratification. Two hours from now when I am at work I won't care anymore.


And here's what we've all been waiting for - a glimpse of the Parthenon in the distance, floating over the city like a dwelling of the gods.


I thought this sculpture was kind of cool. It's made of panes of glass stacked horizontally on top of one another.


The Lonely Planet guidebook wasn't kidding. Athens really is an enormous horrible concrete urban sprawl. This kind of neighbourhood and buildings cover most of the city.


Here we see one of the guards outside of what I am told is the home of the President (or something). I am not sure why it is that the ceremonial guards in the various cultures of the world have to wear ridiculous outfits (for example: the guards at Buckingham Palace or the Swiss Papal guard at the Vatican). Is it to lure any potential enemies into thinking that they needn't be taken seriously because they are wearing tights and have shoes with pom-poms attached to them?


On our way up to the Acropolis and the Parthenon we pass by Hadrian's Arch. This was built by the Roman emperor Hadrian (of course) and served as a sort of divider between the older Greek city and newer Roman city. Inscriptions on the Greek side read that "this is the city of Athens", while on the other side the inscriptions read that "this is the city of Hadrian".


And so we reach the site of the Acropolis. If we thought Ephesus was crowded, we are about to be schooled in a whole new meaning of the word.


As we slowly make our way up the hill we rise above the trees and the surrounding landscape is revealed.


Hmmmm. There's a fence in the way here. How about a different angle?


Much better. This is the Theatre of Herodes Atticus who was a rich Roman citizen of Athens who built the theatre in memory of his wife. As you can see the theatre is restored and maintained. It is used for performances of plays and music still today.


High above us a corner of the Parthenon peeks out over the edge of the Acropolis. (The Acropolis is the hill. The Parthenon is the main structure at the top.)


This picture captures the ancient Athens with the new apartment complex Athens of today. The entire city seems to be constructed of apartment blocks.


Looking back over the Theatre of Herodes Atticus we see that the apartment complexes stretch far into the distance.


Even the light has a weird quality to it. It's the smog, I think.


Higher and higher we go but the endless span of concrete apartment blocks does not seem to have an end.


There are really so many people here that it is difficult to enjoy a visit. This is not a complaint so much as an observation that what lies above us better be so spectacular as to justify so many people visiting.


Another view across the expanse of apartment buildings.


This is the Propylaia. (What's with all these weird names?) This forms a sort of entrance gate to the upper city of the Acropolis. As we step through the gate we should see the Parthenon ahead of us.

The columns here are on a different scale than we've seen thus far. They tower above like ancient trees in a stone forest. And, what style are they? Doric, of course. Simple top things and no bases.


Why does this picture look so weird? The crowds of people distract me and I make some wrong settings on my camera.


That's better. Up ahead is the Parthenon. You can see it there, past the thousands of people swarming around.


I won't even bother to try to take any pictures up here where you can't see any other people.


Don't be fooled by this one and the lack of people. The area is roped off.


This unique structure is the Porch of the Caryatids. The use of female figures in place of columns is instantly unforgettable and appealing to the eye.


The Porch of the Caryatids is part of a larger structure called the Erechtheion. The Parthenon might be large and impressive but it is the Erechtheion that is the important spot up here on the Acropolis. More on that when we walk around past it.


I am fond of stones lying around with ancient writing on them.


The Eastern edge of the Parthenon is silhouetted against the sky. It is up here that the so-called Elgin Marbles in the British Museum in London were originally located before being spirited away to England.


As you might have noticed, the Parthenon and the Acropolis are currently undergoing extensive restoration. I am impressed with this particular restoration, however, because if you read the text at the left you'll discover that they are taking out the concrete fillings that were put in place earlier (to replace bits that they couldn't find the pieces of) and replacing those with carved marble pieces. Additionally, they are correcting the misplacements of pieces from the previous restorations.


Here from the Western end we have the only decent and least unobstructed view of the Parthenon.

You might have read on the previous photo about how the Northern Colonnade is being restored to its appearance before the explosion of 1687. The explosion this refers to occurred during a war between the Turkish and the Venetians. The Turks decided that it would be a good idea to store gunpowder inside the Parthenon at the top of the Acropolis. The Venetians, in turn, decided that it would be a good idea to therefore shell the Parthenon and try to blow up the gunpowder stored there. In this they succeeded and created an explosion which caused some of the damage you see here along the side of the structure. On the opposite side, then, they are restoring the columns and structure to fix the hole in the side. Perhaps they will eventually do the same on this side as well?

Before we move on there are a few other interesting things to notice about the Parthenon while we still have a decent view of it.

The first are the Doric columns. You are probably really sick and tired of hearing about columns but these are the most Doric columns you will ever see. These set the standard of Doric. In fact, they should call them Parthenonic Columns because what does Doric even mean anyway?

Second is the fact that the Parthenon is proudly and entirely constructed of Pentelic marble. I don't know what Pentelic marble is, but it's another one of those words that people and guidebooks throw around pretending that everyone knows and cares what they mean and don't bother to explain them.

The third and final thing about the Parthenon is something that this angle doesn't really give a good sense of, but the Parthenon is constructed in a most anal fashion so as to offset the tricks that our eyes play on us. As you can see the Parthenon is much like a big square box shape. But they discovered that if you construct something as a perfect big square box shape - paying close attention to lengths and angles and what not - that the resulting structure appears bent. So to counteract this the builders of the Parthenon constructed it so that the base of the structure bends slightly inward, and the columns bend slightly outward. The result is a perfectly square looking box shape.


Interesting that this dog can nap with all these people swarming all over the place. I guess you get used to it when you're a dog.

Also visible in this picture is the little railway system they've built for the restoration projects.


Far off in the distance is the sea. When we sail out tonight I'll have to take a look and see if we can look back and see the Acropolis.


The "capitals" of many Ionic columns are stacked in the grass near the Parthenon.


You might have noticed already that the city of Athens (kind of like Rome) is built among various small hills, surrounded by larger mountains at the outside.


Zooming in a bit we can see a few things of interest: the Oiympic Stadium at the top left, the Arch of Hadrian closer to us in the middle, and the ruins of the Temple of Zeus just above and to the right of that.


The Temple of Zeus was actually larger than the Parthenon when it was finally completed by Emperor Hadrian after several failed attempts over the course of seven hundred years prior. As we have seen in Ephesus yesterday these Roman emperors spent a lot of money on the glorification (and often deification) of themselves. Hadrian was one of the ones famous for this and so when the Temple of Zeus was completed and a gigantic statue of Zeus placed inside he had an equally large statue of himself placed right next to it. Like buddies - Zeus and Hadrian.


Peering over the edge of the Acropolis we see a popular shopping area called the Plaka below us. But the terracotta roofs soon give way to apartment blocks, as you can see.


A view back over the top of the Acropolis as seen from the Eastern end. (I apologise for the varying


A view across the city looking East from the North-East end of the acropolis.


Down below us is the Temple of Hephaestus on the site of the ancient Agora. As you can see the Temple of Hephaestus lives up to its reputation of being the best preserved temple in Greece.


That mountain/hill out there is quite distinctive. I will have to look for that tonight when we sail out to help orient myself.


Yah, definitely a good reference point. You can see this hill from everywhere.


And so we come full circle and return to the Erechtheion, as promised. (You can see the Porch of the Caryatids down the left side.)

As I mentioned the Parthenon might be the big impressive structure up here on the Acropolis, but it's the Erechtheion that holds the place of honour because on this spot that it is said that the city of Athens was born.


According to mythology when men first came to found a city here the gods decided that they should hold a contest to name the city. Whichever god could come up with the best gift to the people of the new city would win. And so Athena summoned up an Olive Tree - symbol of peace and source of delicious snacks. Not to be outdone Poseidon struck the rock with his trident and a war horse emerged.

As the name "Athens" implies the gods decided that Athena's gift of peace was the better gift and so the city got its name and spent the next several millennia in a near constant state of war.

Anyway, it was supposedly here that Athena's tree grew and Poseidon hit the rock with his trident.


Arching our necks to see the top of the Erechtheion towering above us you might notice that today we don't have the normal blinding blue skies that we've become used to. This is not to say that the weather is bad or that it's not sunny out. Just that we get a nice break from the constant direct sun.


As you can see, unlike its neighbour the Parthenon, the Erechtheion utilises the Ionic style of column.


Don't worry. After today we leave all these Greek columns behind us and you won't ever have to think about them ever again. (Unless you are sitting in Courtroom 1 and thinking about what style the columns out in the public gallery are. Doric, I think. No bases.)


For some reason this scene here under the tree is my second most enduring memory of the visit to the Acropolis (the first being how crowded and generally spoiled the experience was because of it). This photo doesn't quite capture it, but imagine a scene of Grandpa and Grandma Greeks taking their young grandson to the Acropolis for a visit. Grandpa tries to explain the stories to his grandson. The grandson, in turn, completely ignores him and plays with stuff and wanders around as they try to grab him and make him listen.

The moral of the story? Kids are pricks. Don't bother taking them to places that they won't appreciate. Because, frankly, if there were no kids here at the Acropolis it would be about 50% less crowded than it is.


Coming back up again to the top of the Acropolis the Porch of the Caryatids is seen through the grasses and ruins.


One last view of the temple housing the birthplace of Athens before we head back down the mountain again.


And so we pass once again through the gateway of the Propylaia on our way down. Soon we'll put all these weird names behind us.

I am rather concerned with this one column at the right side. It looks about ready to topple over. It doesn't take a column scientist to see that the one piece needs to be shoved in a bit.


If this falls over it's not going to be like in the movies when Styrofoam rocks fall on people. These are going to kill at least 20 people when they crash over on the crowd of people passing through the gate (thus killing at least 10 children).


From the gateway one has a long view over Western Athens.


I am not sure what this picture is supposed to show. Maybe the walls of the Propylaia? I am not sure why I found those interesting at the time.


Down below us is what I would call a Serbian Orthodox Church, except that it's probably a Greek Orthodox Church.


The area off to the right side of this picture is the ancient Agora of Athens. When the Romans came they had their own Agora (which we can't see, but which is off to the right side).


A closer view of the ancient Agora with the Temple of Hephaestus at the summit. As you can see the Temple of Hephaestus is very similar to the Parthenon in design and also uses the Doric style columns that are so prominent on the Parthenon.


One final (but similar) view across the city before we climb down again.


As always I am fascinated by ancient writings on stone.


I am not the only one interested in the writings. This guy looks like he's reading it.


Lying sprawled in the trees is a bit of column, discarded like rubbish.


Some stairs lead up to some kind of monument. It doesn't look very interesting, nor can I read the Greek writing on it, so I don't bother to go look.


Which brings us to the lower end of the theatre we saw earlier, the Theatre of Herodes Atticus - also known as the Herodeon, which (like the Odeion in Ephesus) contains word "odeon". Perhaps THIS is the source of the modern usage of the word "odeon", as in Cineplex Odeon?


A view from backstage at the Herodeon. This is not the largest theatre at the site of the Acropolis. A bit East of here is the Theatre of Dionysos which had a capacity of 17.000 people. But we won't be going there because even our short few hours in Athens thus far as sucked our will to live.



Far above the Parthenon always seems to be visible.


A view backward looking up the steps toward the Herodeon.


Some ruins poke above the trees.




Some final views back toward the Acropolis before we head back to the ship and escape the harsh crush of urbanity that is Athens.


From the freeway we catch a glimpse of one of Athens' modern stadiums. I like the design of the coverings shaped like birds, overlapping to provide protection from rain.


Thank god we're back. I am glad to have seen Athens, I admit, but it's probably not a city that I would ever visit again.


Fast forward to evening and the Veendam sets sail once again.


Looking back toward the port of Piraeus and the many many ferries connecting the many many Greek islands.


One always hears about Greek Shipping Tycoons (like Aristotle Onnassis). Having visiting Greece and sailed among its islands and seen the ships here at Piraeus I can really appreciate why so many Greeks are tycoons of the shipping industry. From ancient times the Greeks just had to be a boat-building and sea-faring people. There always seems to be another island on the horizon to sail to.


Here under the overcast skies the water is a rich deep blue that is quite appealing.


And so we bid farewell to Athens and the ugly port of Piraeus.


Walking to the front of the ship we arrive just in time to see them performing the daily ritual of taking the flag down.


We've seen many views of Athens today and I've been stunned by the unbelievable sprawl of apartment buildings, but look at it from out at sea. The apartment buildings are just all a gigantic white-ish blur.



I take a couple of pictures in the vicinity of that unique looking mountain we saw earlier, hoping that I can see the Parthenon, but I can't do it. Even now it takes me a second to find it in the mess of buildings - kind of like Where's Waldo.


There is some time to sit around on the Promenade Deck before dinner.




A few pictures from my walks around the Promenade Deck.


And so dinnertime arrives once again. And once again I have the meat. This really looks good. I wish I could have this for lunch today.


After dinner I always enjoy a stroll down the Promenade Deck in the open air.


The skies have cleared up now and the moon can be seen overhead. I am impressed that I can take such a picture without a tripod in the wind from the open deck of a moving ship.


Up ahead of us some stars and lights on the horizon are visible.


This is Queen Beatrix, whose face always makes me feel at home on these Holland America Ships.


This is a cannon from one of the Dutch VOC ships of the Golden Age of The Netherlands.


This is a baby wrestling with a big fish. I am not sure what that is supposed to be about.


And so finally we shall descend the main staircase of the Veendam Atrium and return to our stateroom.

But, as always, before we go to bed let's check the Daily Logbook:

Fact of the day: The Academy (founded in 387 BC by Plato in the grove of the Academos near Athens) was the first University.

Distance travelled (Kusadasi to Piraeus) = 201 Nautical Miles (372 km)

Total distance travelled = 4310 km





RETURN TO INDEX