For this post, I will be digging in the archives; but that seems appropriate considering the ancient history of Greece itself. I was inspired to write about my Greek adventure (circa 1997) thanks to the Greek Festival happening in Denver this weekend, plus the headline news about protests plaguing the nation. But my memories of Greece are far less dramatic, and more akin to a dream. These dreamlike visions are probably due to the fact it has been more than 12 years since I last stepped foot on Greek sand, but also because of the stark beauty and staggering scenery found on the many islands of Greece.
It remains one of my most memorable trips from childhood, as I can still picture the exotic aqua sea crashing against the shores, where white stucco buildings with blue doors were cascading down the hills. I can still feel the oppressive heat atop the roof of the Marriott in downtown Athens. I can still hear the sounds of the bustling streets along the many plazas, as taxis crammed their way through tight spots and tourists shuffled through the crowd. And then there are the other distant memories that aren’t quite as romantic, but certainly helped to form the identity of the area. Like the nude German tourists showering out of their RV’s parked along the beach. Or the sign in our island hotel stating “If you wanted to be comfortable, you should have stayed at home.” Or the late night sing-alongs in the taverna, which was lit by mere candlelight and had tables lined with ouzo and retsina.
Sitting beachside is not a typical Harben endeavor, but my parents needed the vacation in the true sense of the word; not hustling through city streets and yo-yo-ing from monument to monument, but just a soak-up-the-sun kind of vacation. In these days, we were still living in upstate New York where at least six months of the year were consumed by at least six feet of snow (give or take a few feet). So the trip began in London, continued on Naxos island, and ended in Athens for a few days.
A week on the island of Naxos, in Naxos City, started by landing at the rickety airport. Did I say rickety? Good, because I mean it. Look at this place! Talk about authentic. But as long as the airplanes going in and out of the airport were of the contemporary variety, it was fine. A wild cab ride took us through the winding hills and the dirt roads to our hotel—a whitewashed set of bungalows that possessed both charm and functionality. Until you stepped foot in the bathroom. Cue the cheeky sign touting comfort and staying at home. There’s no way I can find the exact hotel we stayed in, but its steeped studio apartments and friendly owners are vivid. The list of economical hotels in Naxos is extensive, with prices ranging from $30 to $80 per night—even in season. Whichever hotel you find, chances are it will have spacious rooms with seaside views outside broad windows. Find accommodation with a restaurant or bar, as your fellow lodgers will likely be from all parts of the world and an interesting mix of people to talk to.
My affinity for Greek food started on Naxos, where I enjoyed authentic moussaka, spanakopita, and baklava for the first time. However, it was a rude awakening to discover a Greek salad in Greece consists solely of tomatoes (my antipathy for tomatoes was simply confirmed on Naxos). The restaurants on the island were humble, often run by modest families who looked out to the Mediterranean from their overheated kitchens. Business was less than booming during the day, but as the sun set, the locals and the tourists alike would pile in.
Exploring the island was truly an adventure. The largest in the Cyclades island group within the Aegean, Naxos was once the center of archaic Cycladic culture in the Early Bronze Age. Wherever you find yourself on the island of Naxos, you’re only a few short hours away from a great ruin (such as Demeter's Temple) and mythic legend of yore; the only challenge is navigating the incredibly twisty roads (sans guardrails, of course). When not driving on edge (literally) or swimming in the Aegean, we walked along the stone streets of Old Town, trotted through the dirt roads marked by donkey tracks, and dug our toes into the crisp Greek sand.
Of course, island life got a little old after a few days of creating homemade seashell necklaces and splashing in the water, so it was off to Athens for the rest of the trip. This is where we enjoyed sunsets on the Ledra Marriot rooftop, leisure dinners on the popular restaurant plazas, and treks through ancient ruins.
There are a lot of overrated cities in the world (Budapest and Lisbon come to mind), but Athens does not rank on that list. The energy, the food, and the people all make it a foreign experience in the best possible way. And the setting is stunning, with the Parthenon and Acropolis towering over you like a constant reminder of their historic prevalence. For a child, trying to comprehend the Early Neolithic era (i.e., 6th millennium BC) is nearly impossible, considering a flip-phone is “ancient” in kid terms. But it’s hard to miss the point that 7,000 years is a long time as you stand smack-dab in the middle of all that history. Athens will forever be my first “foreign” city and perhaps the reason I fell in love with traveling in the first place. Toronto and London were always homes away from home, but Athens presented something completely different—something inspiring, something magical. The sign that suggested you should stay at home if you want to be comfortable sticks with me; traveling shouldn’t be familiar. It shouldn’t even be leisurely. It should be eye-opening, exciting, and at times, uncomfortable. That way in retrospect, trips can seem more like dreams—adventures you have to struggle to recall were real or fiction. Maybe the filter of time and youth has clouded my judgment of Greece. Perhaps if I visit it today, I'd have a completely different experience. But in the end, isn’t that what travel is all about?
If you’re craving more on Greece, especially the island of Naxos, take a peek at my mother’s book: Royal Amber, in which she describes these places so vividly, it’s like you’re there.
