So today's blog isn't happy. It isn't witty or clever. It isn't insightful or historically full of facts. It's not even on time.
While I was on the way back from dinner last night I got a phone call. Yesterday (August 19th) was my Mum's birthday and I'd phoned her earlier in the day. Her number flashed up on Henry's phone which was odd... I answered but I couldn't really hear anything.
Then the line became clear and I heard her sobbing. Dad took the phone off of her and said with devastation in his voice... 'your Grandad has died'
The world stopped.
It's an odd saying, 'the world stopped' isn't it? Obviously it didn't, but what feels like hours go past while your brain tries to process the information it's just been given. It was probably only seconds but it felt like an age.
I didn't even know what to say. What to do. Where to go...
I froze and listened to Dad tell me what had happened. I don't even really remember what he said. It wasn't until he's said 'died' again that it really struck me. I started to cry.
The tram was full and all I was doing was sitting there on the phone crying my eyes out in front of all these strangers.
What the fuck was I supposed to do? What do I say to my Dad? What do you say to a man, to your father, who has always been the big strong one whose looked after you all your life, when all you can hear is hurt and pain in his voice? What do you say to a man who, at 50, has just lost his Dad whom he adored?
I sat in silence. We both did.
Eventually I blurted out through the tears that I'd ring him when I got back to the hotel. I hung up and that's when it hit me. I was 1400 miles away from the place I needed to be and from the people I needed to be with. Unless it's happened to you, you have no idea what that even begins to feel like. To be away, supposedly having fun, seeing the world, having the time of your life and then in a heartbeat it's gone. The happiness, the excitement, the fun. I felt selfish for being away. For not being where at his bedside. For not saying goodbye.
It took me all of five minutes to tell Henry what had happened. Good job he was there really. The thought of being isolated in a foreign country alone utterly petrified me.
The tram ride seemed to go on forever. It normally takes about forty minutes to get back to the hotel but it felt like twice that. We got back and I phoned Mum. She sounded worse than Dad.
My Grandad was 83. His name was Michael Sidney Cavner. He lived through World War Two, in the aftermath of which he met my Nan, Doris. They married and they raised two children together who have each had two grandchildren whom they adore. He founded a business that has supported both his family and his son's families for more than 50 years. He bought a farm in 1991 and bred cows, pigs, sheep, chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys and rabbits. On August 19th he was making a cup of tea for my Nan and himself when he collapsed. He was rushed to hospital but he died of an aortic bleed in his heart. He passed away quietly and peacefully with his family around him.
All of them, except me of course.
Now, some might question why I feel it necessary or important to write a massive blog when someone so close to me has passed away.
I say this to those people.
It's funny how different people grieve. For me, writing things down and making literal sense of things whether on physical paper or on that of a word document is what, right now, is helping.
I'm going to book a flight home in the morning for the funeral. I'm going to stay for about 10 days and help my Nan and family. To stay away would be selfish. I'm missing out Israel on my trip and I'll just skip straight to Moscow. It's probably my mindset right now, but there is a real chance I could just stay at home. I don't even know why.
Now, a word for my boy. Imagine being on holiday having a lovely time with your boyfriend and then all of a sudden him being in tears in the middle of a tram. Without doubt, without him I would be lost. A hug was all I needed. He made me feel safe instantly. I'd have been lost without him.
My Grandad died today. His name was Michael Sidney Cavner. He was 83 years old and I loved him.
I will miss him a lot.
Everything is going to change now, isn't it...
Monday, 20 August 2012
Saturday, 18 August 2012
Day 21 - Athens: Piraeus
Piraeus is a bustling port about half an hour outside of Athens city centre. It used to be a city in it's own right but the urban sprawl between here and the capital has brought the two cities together.
It's one of the busiest ferry terminals (national, local and international) in Greece and boasts 8 harbours on either side of the headland. We got the metro to Piraeus station and walked past the massive ferries loading Greek families and their cars to go to one of the many Greek islands.
Surrounding the headland is a row of stadia that were used for the 2004 Olympics. I say used and not built because many of them date from the 70's and 80's and were 'refurbished' (painted) for the Athens games. One in particular, the Stadium of Peace and Friendship, looks like it's been abandoned for 8 years when it's actually the home of the Athens basketball team. In fact, it was believed that once the games had ended many of the stadia and venues fell into a state of disrepair. While this aesthetically is the case, many of them have new users despite looking like they've simply been forgotten about. The Olympic stadium is the home to a football club, the diving and swimming aquatics centre is a public swimming pool, the velodrome has hosted 19 international competitions since 2004, and most of the other stadia were bought by football and basketball clubs.
While the infrastructure has remained in place, the legacy has sadly dissipated. Many of the outside basketball, tennis and football pitches go unused. This was only echoed in the Greek medal tally in London this summer.
Had a quick drink at this beautiful cafe called BayWay which overlooked the yachts and boats for sale. Naturally Henry and I boat shopped. We found a lovely one, a bargain at half a million. We'll have two please.
We tried to be all cultural and go to the Greek Maritime Museum but it was closed due to 'holidays' and wouldn't be open again until 27th August. No matter. The yachts were keeping us company well enough.
This marina was called Limani Zeas and then we walked around the headland to a small harbour which was where many of the locals went at night. However, it being day time, it was dead. We stopped for lunch; I had squid and Henry had a Caesar salad (no anchovies) and then went back to the hotel for our afternoon nap.
On the way back we witnessed what I can only describe as public signs of Greek bad temper. While waiting at a station, an old Greek lady went mental, and I mean mental, at the driver. Obviously it was in Greek and we had no idea what she (or he) was saying, but she did say 'tourist' a few times.
Making friends with the locals as always.
The second was when an old man was standing at the door ready to get off and an Asian man stepped straight in front of him with buckets and a squeegee (obviously a window cleaner) and nearly pushed him over. While the old man just moved, another Greek lady had to be physically restrained by her friend while she had a go at this Asian man. She was repeating the same thing in a Catherine Tate 'am I bothered though?' tone. I had to look away for laughing but it was quite amusing to see.
Eventually dragged ourselves out for dinner and decided to go where the guide book said and went to a seafood restaurant called 'Jimmy & the fish' which was apparently famous for it's clam spaghetti. Obviously, neither of us had that... I ordered the seafood ravioli (which was stuffed with crab, prawns, mussels and squid) in a tomato and prawn sauce; it was incredible. Even Henry liked it, and he doesn't eat seafood. He had the steak, which I was a little jealous of because the chips that came with it we're exactly like my Mum's chips. So much so that I could have sworn my Mum was in the kitchen cooking them... Scary.
A bottle of wine later and Henry and I had resorted to guessing the password for the wifi, which he assured me was the phone number of the restaurant (it wasn't) until we decided to go home. On the tram back we sat opposite a boy, probably our age... Picture attached... Very pretty...
Back at the hotel and Henry decided to have a shower. During this quite routine exercise he managed to pull down the shower curtain, not once, but 4 times. I mean come on now. After fixing it for him he finished showering and here we are, me writing this blog, him slightly drunk falling asleep... Awwww they grow up so fast...
So until tomorrow (which is more of the beach) I shall bid you goodnight. I am aware that it's two hours ahead here and by the time many of you read this, we'll be fast asleep in the land of nod.
Much love, my lovelies.
It's one of the busiest ferry terminals (national, local and international) in Greece and boasts 8 harbours on either side of the headland. We got the metro to Piraeus station and walked past the massive ferries loading Greek families and their cars to go to one of the many Greek islands.
Surrounding the headland is a row of stadia that were used for the 2004 Olympics. I say used and not built because many of them date from the 70's and 80's and were 'refurbished' (painted) for the Athens games. One in particular, the Stadium of Peace and Friendship, looks like it's been abandoned for 8 years when it's actually the home of the Athens basketball team. In fact, it was believed that once the games had ended many of the stadia and venues fell into a state of disrepair. While this aesthetically is the case, many of them have new users despite looking like they've simply been forgotten about. The Olympic stadium is the home to a football club, the diving and swimming aquatics centre is a public swimming pool, the velodrome has hosted 19 international competitions since 2004, and most of the other stadia were bought by football and basketball clubs.
While the infrastructure has remained in place, the legacy has sadly dissipated. Many of the outside basketball, tennis and football pitches go unused. This was only echoed in the Greek medal tally in London this summer.
Had a quick drink at this beautiful cafe called BayWay which overlooked the yachts and boats for sale. Naturally Henry and I boat shopped. We found a lovely one, a bargain at half a million. We'll have two please.
We tried to be all cultural and go to the Greek Maritime Museum but it was closed due to 'holidays' and wouldn't be open again until 27th August. No matter. The yachts were keeping us company well enough.
This marina was called Limani Zeas and then we walked around the headland to a small harbour which was where many of the locals went at night. However, it being day time, it was dead. We stopped for lunch; I had squid and Henry had a Caesar salad (no anchovies) and then went back to the hotel for our afternoon nap.
On the way back we witnessed what I can only describe as public signs of Greek bad temper. While waiting at a station, an old Greek lady went mental, and I mean mental, at the driver. Obviously it was in Greek and we had no idea what she (or he) was saying, but she did say 'tourist' a few times.
Making friends with the locals as always.
The second was when an old man was standing at the door ready to get off and an Asian man stepped straight in front of him with buckets and a squeegee (obviously a window cleaner) and nearly pushed him over. While the old man just moved, another Greek lady had to be physically restrained by her friend while she had a go at this Asian man. She was repeating the same thing in a Catherine Tate 'am I bothered though?' tone. I had to look away for laughing but it was quite amusing to see.
Eventually dragged ourselves out for dinner and decided to go where the guide book said and went to a seafood restaurant called 'Jimmy & the fish' which was apparently famous for it's clam spaghetti. Obviously, neither of us had that... I ordered the seafood ravioli (which was stuffed with crab, prawns, mussels and squid) in a tomato and prawn sauce; it was incredible. Even Henry liked it, and he doesn't eat seafood. He had the steak, which I was a little jealous of because the chips that came with it we're exactly like my Mum's chips. So much so that I could have sworn my Mum was in the kitchen cooking them... Scary.
A bottle of wine later and Henry and I had resorted to guessing the password for the wifi, which he assured me was the phone number of the restaurant (it wasn't) until we decided to go home. On the tram back we sat opposite a boy, probably our age... Picture attached... Very pretty...
Back at the hotel and Henry decided to have a shower. During this quite routine exercise he managed to pull down the shower curtain, not once, but 4 times. I mean come on now. After fixing it for him he finished showering and here we are, me writing this blog, him slightly drunk falling asleep... Awwww they grow up so fast...
So until tomorrow (which is more of the beach) I shall bid you goodnight. I am aware that it's two hours ahead here and by the time many of you read this, we'll be fast asleep in the land of nod.
Much love, my lovelies.
Friday, 17 August 2012
Day 20 - Athens: To the Acropolis
Lovely sleep. Woke up and went to breakfast again, stuffed ourselves silly and then headed out, this time away from the main road we had navigated by, across to what I thought was the closest tram stop.
On the way we went through a street market. It was brilliant. It was mainly selling fruit but there was also a fishmonger and someone selling eggs. It was lovely.
The fruitiers were selling only one or two different varieties of fruit each. One sold tomatoes and peaches, while the next one sold aubergines and courgettes. It was lovely, and so cheap... Big watermelons, and I mean big, like the size of a fat baby, we're 60cents each. You got 8 big beef tomatoes for €1 and two bunches of huge grapes for 50cents. The fish was equally as cheap, and a big octopus was €2 (so big that you wouldn't want one in your eye for a bit of grit).
So got to the tram and headed to the centre of the city. We got off at Parliament Square and had a look at the tomb of the unknown soldier. This is where the Athens riots had centred around since 2010.
The riots have been on and off for the past two years. It's probably fair to call them protests rather than riots as most of them are peaceful. The most recent one was April 5th and in two years, only 5 people have died. It sounds harsh but you should remember than Greek police carry loaded guns. The general reason people protest, obviously, are the austerity measures and general hatred towards the political party. Two months ago a new coalition government was elected and it is hoped Greece's problems are not now over, but certainly on the improvement. It is thought tourism is the only way out of the crisis for the Greeks... We'll see.
We watched the changing of the guard (which was highly hysterical). The guards have a ridiculous walk, silly little pom poms on their feet and stupid hats with tassels going down to their waist. Afterwards, as they aren't allowed to move, another guard in an army uniform came and wiped their brow and sorted their tassels out and then said, in an incredibly British accent "pictures, one by one, do not touch". So we joined the queue obediently and had our photo taken with them (Henry's choice, I didn't even want to....) (I did)
So then we went into the sprawling city and headed in the general direction of the acropolis.
The acropolis is known as 'the sacred rock' of Athens and rises 275metres above street level. Acropolis actually means 'High City' and that's what is up there; a small city.
Sticking to stereotypes, Henry and I headed around to the back entrance of the hill to see if we could slip in undetected, successfully so. I didn't pay because I had a student card, Henry did pay. He doesn't have a student card as 'you can never use them, they always say they don't accept them and you never actually save any money with them' (He has a hatred of the NUS)
We climbed to the top (a good 30 minute hike) and the views were outstanding. There is so much history here, I'm going to try and cram it in to a few minutes for you.
The Partheon (the centre piece of the acropolis) was built in 450BC however the site has been in use since the Neolithic times and has changed and transformed many times. It's construction is unlike any other temple in the Greek or Roman empire. The columns at the front of the temple are slightly thicker at the base than at the top, and the entire temple sits, not level on the acropolis, but follows the curvature of the earth.
During Athens' golden age (400's BC) it was home to a 10 metre high pure ivory and gold statue of Athena (the goddess after which the city is named). This was stolen many years ago and the remaining marble friezes are held in the British Museum (much to the annoyance of the Greeks). The biggest catastrophe was in 1697 when the Venetians fired upon the Turks (the rulers at the time) who were occupying the Partheon. The Turks were using the Partheon as a gunpowder store and the resulting explosion essentially destroyed the side of the temple. Since 1975, the entire acropolis has been residence to huge cranes and scaffolding as the Greek government are slowly (they've run out of money) restoring the acropolis.
After we'd climbed down the hilariously steep slope we headed into the air conditioned and brand new Acropolis Museum. It features all of the statues and marble that has been removed from the summit while the restoration takes place. It was free for students (Henry waited while I bought the tickets this time) so we went in and wondered around. It's a little underwhelming and the marble statues have mainly been cast into plaster so you can see what they would have looked like... After an hour or so we got bored and left.
One thing that strikes me is how loving of children the Greeks are. Even teenagers show affection towards toddlers and babies. It's lovely how important family is. We stopped for lunch and our waiter was beautiful. I had a Cesar salad and Henry had spaghetti. Very Greek.....
We went to the district of Plaka which is very pretty and full of little souvenir shops. We wondered around the streets for hours then nipped back to the hotel for a nap before going out to dinner.
Earlier we had walked past a restaurant and the owner had given us a card and folded the corner saying that we could have a free glass of wine if we came back later. Never one to pass on an offer for free wine, we went there.
We had a lamb and potato dish, a chicken dish and a Greek salad. It was delish!
Another beautifully hot day... More of the same promised for tomorrow, thank god. I think we're going to go to the harbour and look at the old Olympic stadium which apparently is in ruins. That'll be nice!
So until then, goodnight sexy people.
On the way we went through a street market. It was brilliant. It was mainly selling fruit but there was also a fishmonger and someone selling eggs. It was lovely.
The fruitiers were selling only one or two different varieties of fruit each. One sold tomatoes and peaches, while the next one sold aubergines and courgettes. It was lovely, and so cheap... Big watermelons, and I mean big, like the size of a fat baby, we're 60cents each. You got 8 big beef tomatoes for €1 and two bunches of huge grapes for 50cents. The fish was equally as cheap, and a big octopus was €2 (so big that you wouldn't want one in your eye for a bit of grit).
So got to the tram and headed to the centre of the city. We got off at Parliament Square and had a look at the tomb of the unknown soldier. This is where the Athens riots had centred around since 2010.
The riots have been on and off for the past two years. It's probably fair to call them protests rather than riots as most of them are peaceful. The most recent one was April 5th and in two years, only 5 people have died. It sounds harsh but you should remember than Greek police carry loaded guns. The general reason people protest, obviously, are the austerity measures and general hatred towards the political party. Two months ago a new coalition government was elected and it is hoped Greece's problems are not now over, but certainly on the improvement. It is thought tourism is the only way out of the crisis for the Greeks... We'll see.
We watched the changing of the guard (which was highly hysterical). The guards have a ridiculous walk, silly little pom poms on their feet and stupid hats with tassels going down to their waist. Afterwards, as they aren't allowed to move, another guard in an army uniform came and wiped their brow and sorted their tassels out and then said, in an incredibly British accent "pictures, one by one, do not touch". So we joined the queue obediently and had our photo taken with them (Henry's choice, I didn't even want to....) (I did)
So then we went into the sprawling city and headed in the general direction of the acropolis.
The acropolis is known as 'the sacred rock' of Athens and rises 275metres above street level. Acropolis actually means 'High City' and that's what is up there; a small city.
Sticking to stereotypes, Henry and I headed around to the back entrance of the hill to see if we could slip in undetected, successfully so. I didn't pay because I had a student card, Henry did pay. He doesn't have a student card as 'you can never use them, they always say they don't accept them and you never actually save any money with them' (He has a hatred of the NUS)
We climbed to the top (a good 30 minute hike) and the views were outstanding. There is so much history here, I'm going to try and cram it in to a few minutes for you.
The Partheon (the centre piece of the acropolis) was built in 450BC however the site has been in use since the Neolithic times and has changed and transformed many times. It's construction is unlike any other temple in the Greek or Roman empire. The columns at the front of the temple are slightly thicker at the base than at the top, and the entire temple sits, not level on the acropolis, but follows the curvature of the earth.
During Athens' golden age (400's BC) it was home to a 10 metre high pure ivory and gold statue of Athena (the goddess after which the city is named). This was stolen many years ago and the remaining marble friezes are held in the British Museum (much to the annoyance of the Greeks). The biggest catastrophe was in 1697 when the Venetians fired upon the Turks (the rulers at the time) who were occupying the Partheon. The Turks were using the Partheon as a gunpowder store and the resulting explosion essentially destroyed the side of the temple. Since 1975, the entire acropolis has been residence to huge cranes and scaffolding as the Greek government are slowly (they've run out of money) restoring the acropolis.
After we'd climbed down the hilariously steep slope we headed into the air conditioned and brand new Acropolis Museum. It features all of the statues and marble that has been removed from the summit while the restoration takes place. It was free for students (Henry waited while I bought the tickets this time) so we went in and wondered around. It's a little underwhelming and the marble statues have mainly been cast into plaster so you can see what they would have looked like... After an hour or so we got bored and left.
One thing that strikes me is how loving of children the Greeks are. Even teenagers show affection towards toddlers and babies. It's lovely how important family is. We stopped for lunch and our waiter was beautiful. I had a Cesar salad and Henry had spaghetti. Very Greek.....
We went to the district of Plaka which is very pretty and full of little souvenir shops. We wondered around the streets for hours then nipped back to the hotel for a nap before going out to dinner.
Earlier we had walked past a restaurant and the owner had given us a card and folded the corner saying that we could have a free glass of wine if we came back later. Never one to pass on an offer for free wine, we went there.
We had a lamb and potato dish, a chicken dish and a Greek salad. It was delish!
Another beautifully hot day... More of the same promised for tomorrow, thank god. I think we're going to go to the harbour and look at the old Olympic stadium which apparently is in ruins. That'll be nice!
So until then, goodnight sexy people.
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Day 19 - Athens: to the beach, each, let's go get away
Was awoken this morning by Henry telling me that someone was playing Goyte - Somebody that I used to know in the street. Swiftly went back to sleep and pretended he didn't wake me (it was 5.30am)
When we eventually got up we went down to breakfast (just made it) and stuffed our faces. Bacon, eggs, sausage, crossiants, toast, tea and (crap) coffee, ham, cheese, cake, cereal, you name it, we had it. Henry also did the age old British thing and wrapped a biscuit thing up and took an orange for later. Oh how he conforms to stereotypes... I've only been out of the country for three weeks but I'm quite used to the heat, Henry however was sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish market; 'it's not like British heat is it?' 'It's hot isn't it? Might be too hot' etc
So got the tram to the beach, a whole hour away ( 39 stops) from the hotel to a beach on recommendation from the hotel receptionist. You watch, we'll get there and it'll be run by the receptionist brother in law and be incredibly expensive....
So finally got to the beach and my god, Stavros (I've decided to name our receptionist Stavros) wasn't wrong. The beach was stunning. You had to pay, as you do on all beaches, and lounger hire was extra but it wasn't expensive. The 'resort' was called South Coast and my favourite feature was the boys walking around with Buzz Lightyear communicators on their wrists taking drinks orders.
Went for a lovely swim and sunbathed for a few hours. It was fab. Henry got sunburnt. I did try and tell him.
Anyway, it was quite nice to just do nothing for a day. It's kinda been two and a half weeks in a row of non stop sightseeing, so just to swim and sit and drink and eat was lovely.
Ordered room service again. Henry paid. Going to be a cheap week for me ;)
Lovely. So my gorgeous' I shall say goodnight. Quite a short blog today, I'll put more effort in tomorrow. Henry's told me I can have an hour every day to write it :)
Much love x
When we eventually got up we went down to breakfast (just made it) and stuffed our faces. Bacon, eggs, sausage, crossiants, toast, tea and (crap) coffee, ham, cheese, cake, cereal, you name it, we had it. Henry also did the age old British thing and wrapped a biscuit thing up and took an orange for later. Oh how he conforms to stereotypes... I've only been out of the country for three weeks but I'm quite used to the heat, Henry however was sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish market; 'it's not like British heat is it?' 'It's hot isn't it? Might be too hot' etc
So got the tram to the beach, a whole hour away ( 39 stops) from the hotel to a beach on recommendation from the hotel receptionist. You watch, we'll get there and it'll be run by the receptionist brother in law and be incredibly expensive....
So finally got to the beach and my god, Stavros (I've decided to name our receptionist Stavros) wasn't wrong. The beach was stunning. You had to pay, as you do on all beaches, and lounger hire was extra but it wasn't expensive. The 'resort' was called South Coast and my favourite feature was the boys walking around with Buzz Lightyear communicators on their wrists taking drinks orders.
Went for a lovely swim and sunbathed for a few hours. It was fab. Henry got sunburnt. I did try and tell him.
Anyway, it was quite nice to just do nothing for a day. It's kinda been two and a half weeks in a row of non stop sightseeing, so just to swim and sit and drink and eat was lovely.
Ordered room service again. Henry paid. Going to be a cheap week for me ;)
Lovely. So my gorgeous' I shall say goodnight. Quite a short blog today, I'll put more effort in tomorrow. Henry's told me I can have an hour every day to write it :)
Much love x
Day 18 - Naples to Athens: TAXI
Got up at 5.30am, showered and got my stuff together. The other 9 boys in the room were away in the land of nod, but as they'd woken me up at 3am (bastards) I made sure I made a bit of noise when I closed the door.
Got downstairs and the receptionist was asleep. What the hell?! I waited for a couple of minutes while I decided what to do, but then his alarm went off. He sat bolt upright and said morning as if he hadn't been asleep. He put his flip flops on and walked behind the desk, ordered me a taxi and then promptly went back to sleep (after giving me the key deposit and opening the door). Italians hey!
The taxi ride, was... Well....
In the immortal words of Sheldon Cooper, when your 'check engine' light is on, you should check your engine.
His check engine light was on. And not in amber. In red. He didn't seem too bothered by this... But then he also didn't seem bothered by red lights, other road users, pedestrians, indicators, road tolls, curbs, me, himself or the brake pedal. The list could go on...
We got to the airport, I paid my €19, and then waited for my check in counter to be announced. I asked, but it seemed they wouldn't open until 8am. It was now 6.45am.
Piss it.
Bought a paper, read that. Bought a kit kat (breakfast), ate that. Bought some gum, chewed that. Finally, the minutes ticked past and I threw my bags at the same woman who in fact hadn't done anything since I first arrived (I watched) and joined the back of the longest security queue I've ever seen.
Now, I should remind you at this point that Europeans in general do not queue like the British. We see a line and courteously join at the back... Alas, my fellow passengers thought this wasn't for them, and instead just walked to the front. Once the third person had gone past, I tutted loudly (as Brits do) and shook my head. A Liverpudlian lady saw me, and said 'they're so rude'. Between me and her family of four we made a human barrier in the queue. The irate Italians behind kept saying excuse me in English but we pretended we couldn't understand them... Awwwwww.
Gate A9 for my flight... Lovely. My favourite gate number...
As I sat and waited for my boarding to start I watched the other flights line up to depart. I tried to guess where each line was going without looking at the departure board.
Totally pale skinned and a few ginger people... Obviously the flight to Dublin... YES!
Fake tanned, despite being in southern Italy for a week, massive hoop earrings, skin tight jeans three sizes too small... Liverpool... YES!
Two for two.
Slightly 'out of it', long shaggy hair, look like they've had a late night and an early start... Amsterdam... YES!
Going well.
Olive skin, not really 'queueing', talking with their hands... Milan... YES!
Towels over the suitcases... Berlin... YES!
Easy one.
Moody, beret, carrying a baguette... Paris... YES!
Okay, so I made the last two up but you get the general idea. Airports are the funniest places ever, you see the best and worst of humanity.
Oh! And there was a man wearing crocs. I don't care what anyone says; there is NEVER an excuse. Don't wear them.
'Those crocs look really nice on you' said no one, ever.
When I was checking in, a Norwegian family were at the next counter; a mother and father and their three sons. All perfectly blonde. They're sat opposite me right now. Watching them restores my faith in the world a little.
Their eldest son, about 17, is playing with his little brothers, perhaps 9 or 10. The mother and father are sitting looking into each others eyes. They all look so happy. It was very cute. Not really sure why I'm telling you this... Another little anecdote for you all to read while you're going to bed.
Got on the plane. It was... Well tiny. Only four seats across. Arrived in Athens and the tiny plane decided to park (do planes park?) at the furthest point from the terminal so off the plane onto a bus to the baggage reclaim. Brilliantly my bag was first so grabbed it and walked through arrivals and who should I see....
Henry.
The little shit of a boyfriend had surprised me and was spending a week with me in Athens. Cutie pie.
No hostel living for me. The four star hotel that Henry had booked was in the city, so we got a taxi that took us straight there. Lovely
This is going to be a good week.
We crashed at the hotel and unpacked. Naturally I did my washing in the bath so I have clothes to wear for the week.
Anyway. We went for a walk and stumbled across the original Olympic stadium. It's €1.50 to get in and has a free audio guide.
It was and still is the biggest structure in the world made purely out of white marble and can hold 60,000 people. It's very impressive. We climbed to the top and looked out into the distance. The Acropolis stands high above the city in the background. Henry said we're doing that in the morning because it gets crowded in the afternoon; who's the worldy traveller now.
So walked back and went to bed.
Yup. 9.50pm and I was fast asleep.
So join us tomorrow for more Henry and Olly adventures!
Loves x
Got downstairs and the receptionist was asleep. What the hell?! I waited for a couple of minutes while I decided what to do, but then his alarm went off. He sat bolt upright and said morning as if he hadn't been asleep. He put his flip flops on and walked behind the desk, ordered me a taxi and then promptly went back to sleep (after giving me the key deposit and opening the door). Italians hey!
The taxi ride, was... Well....
In the immortal words of Sheldon Cooper, when your 'check engine' light is on, you should check your engine.
His check engine light was on. And not in amber. In red. He didn't seem too bothered by this... But then he also didn't seem bothered by red lights, other road users, pedestrians, indicators, road tolls, curbs, me, himself or the brake pedal. The list could go on...
We got to the airport, I paid my €19, and then waited for my check in counter to be announced. I asked, but it seemed they wouldn't open until 8am. It was now 6.45am.
Piss it.
Bought a paper, read that. Bought a kit kat (breakfast), ate that. Bought some gum, chewed that. Finally, the minutes ticked past and I threw my bags at the same woman who in fact hadn't done anything since I first arrived (I watched) and joined the back of the longest security queue I've ever seen.
Now, I should remind you at this point that Europeans in general do not queue like the British. We see a line and courteously join at the back... Alas, my fellow passengers thought this wasn't for them, and instead just walked to the front. Once the third person had gone past, I tutted loudly (as Brits do) and shook my head. A Liverpudlian lady saw me, and said 'they're so rude'. Between me and her family of four we made a human barrier in the queue. The irate Italians behind kept saying excuse me in English but we pretended we couldn't understand them... Awwwwww.
Gate A9 for my flight... Lovely. My favourite gate number...
As I sat and waited for my boarding to start I watched the other flights line up to depart. I tried to guess where each line was going without looking at the departure board.
Totally pale skinned and a few ginger people... Obviously the flight to Dublin... YES!
Fake tanned, despite being in southern Italy for a week, massive hoop earrings, skin tight jeans three sizes too small... Liverpool... YES!
Two for two.
Slightly 'out of it', long shaggy hair, look like they've had a late night and an early start... Amsterdam... YES!
Going well.
Olive skin, not really 'queueing', talking with their hands... Milan... YES!
Towels over the suitcases... Berlin... YES!
Easy one.
Moody, beret, carrying a baguette... Paris... YES!
Okay, so I made the last two up but you get the general idea. Airports are the funniest places ever, you see the best and worst of humanity.
Oh! And there was a man wearing crocs. I don't care what anyone says; there is NEVER an excuse. Don't wear them.
'Those crocs look really nice on you' said no one, ever.
When I was checking in, a Norwegian family were at the next counter; a mother and father and their three sons. All perfectly blonde. They're sat opposite me right now. Watching them restores my faith in the world a little.
Their eldest son, about 17, is playing with his little brothers, perhaps 9 or 10. The mother and father are sitting looking into each others eyes. They all look so happy. It was very cute. Not really sure why I'm telling you this... Another little anecdote for you all to read while you're going to bed.
Got on the plane. It was... Well tiny. Only four seats across. Arrived in Athens and the tiny plane decided to park (do planes park?) at the furthest point from the terminal so off the plane onto a bus to the baggage reclaim. Brilliantly my bag was first so grabbed it and walked through arrivals and who should I see....
Henry.
The little shit of a boyfriend had surprised me and was spending a week with me in Athens. Cutie pie.
No hostel living for me. The four star hotel that Henry had booked was in the city, so we got a taxi that took us straight there. Lovely
This is going to be a good week.
We crashed at the hotel and unpacked. Naturally I did my washing in the bath so I have clothes to wear for the week.
Anyway. We went for a walk and stumbled across the original Olympic stadium. It's €1.50 to get in and has a free audio guide.
It was and still is the biggest structure in the world made purely out of white marble and can hold 60,000 people. It's very impressive. We climbed to the top and looked out into the distance. The Acropolis stands high above the city in the background. Henry said we're doing that in the morning because it gets crowded in the afternoon; who's the worldy traveller now.
So walked back and went to bed.
Yup. 9.50pm and I was fast asleep.
So join us tomorrow for more Henry and Olly adventures!
Loves x
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Day 17 - Naples: Final day
So today I did... Nothing...
No seriously
Well I ate. And packed. And talked to the guys on the front desk for a bit and then tweeted loads.
Looking forward to Athens tomorrow :)
No seriously
Well I ate. And packed. And talked to the guys on the front desk for a bit and then tweeted loads.
Looking forward to Athens tomorrow :)
Monday, 13 August 2012
Day 16 - Naples: Pompeii
You guessed it. I went to Pompeii.
For those of you who don't know, or never listened in history, Pompeii is a Roman town which was devastated by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD.
It isn't quite the disaster that is made out, from what my guide told me. Several years earlier, a massive earthquake had ruined the city, and many of the 20,000 residents had been evacuated; only 2,000 remained and when the eruption happened, the city had just finished rebuilding itself to it's former glory, hence the beautiful state of the city.
Many people (including I) think that the city is so well preserved because it was covered in lava. This isn't the case. Pompeii sits just a top a small hill, and so the lava didn't reach the city limits. The ash, and the gasses, are what put Pompeii to bed.
Many people left the city almost instantly once the ash began to fall. The eruption happened at noon and by 4pm, all but 50 people were left in the city. Those 50 people were town officials and business men who could not leave. Within two days the ash had covered the city in up to 6 metres of ash. The sheer weight of the ash on roofs made the weak wooden structures collapse; the walls obviously still remain.
Believe it or not, Pompeii remained undiscovered until 1594 when an archeologist found what is now a very small house outside the city which turned out to be the office of the city cemetery. He reported the find, but not until 1687 did the entirety and scale of his discovery become apparent. The city fills nearly 100 hectares with only about 40 unearthed, or unashed.
Archeologists have excavated over the years and essentially found a perfectly preserved Roman city. There are perfect paintings (frescos) on walls and ceilings, and pots and pans left exactly how they were when the eruption happened.
It's quite like someone just all of a sudden made all the people disappear in the middle of their lives. Regular people just going about their business and then all of a sudden they were told to pack their things, get on chariots and leave.
Indeed as I mentioned before, some people did not leave and their fate has since become famous world wide. When, in 1925, archeologists were surveying the ground, they found voids under the ash. Luckily, for they did not know what these were, they injected liquid plaster into these voids, let it set, and then removed the surrounding ash. What remained were bones, I'm exactly the same position they had fallen. While the flesh decomposed over thousands of years, the imprints of their faces are horrendously human. One even shows a look of pure panic. The most memorable of these plaster casts is one woman, which lays, on her front with her arms out in front of her as if she has just fallen over running away. She is now turned over and you can see how she has one shoe on, not two. Her face is detailed enough to show that she has succumb to the poisonous gases which suffocated anyone who dared not to leave.
The rest of the excavations are incredibly beautiful. Many of them have been restored to exactly the way they would have looked in 79AD. The bakers shows the ovens and grindstone in the courtyard. Outside the public baths there is even a 'fast food joint' with a marble counter with holes in which still had their lids. They found wood remains found under these holes which indicates that they had food in which was kept warm to sell. Sort of like McDonald's.
Except not shit.
The incredible thing about the shops and houses is that you can still see perfectly how people lived. Small sinks in corners of butchers shops and little marble counters in the fishmongers. Even the grooves in the door way where the shutters were pulled across.
The only purely brick building, which hence survived the weight of the ash, was the theatre. It remained perfectly preserved, candles included. It was something. It held 5,000 people when full and many reckon this is where the city folk would have assembled to be told of the evacuations.
The roads, as my tour guide in Rome had told me, were exactly the right width. 5 steps. However, Pompeii was different. It was one of the major cities along the coast which didn't have an underground sewerage network. Because of this, the Romans adapted the roads to suit. The roads were set half a metre down into the earth so water could flow along them, and at cross roads there were stepping stones for pedestrians to cross the roads, similar to zebra crossings. The stepping stones we're the same size all over the empire, two inches smaller than the width of the wheels on chariots. There were perfect grooves either side of the stones where the chariots ran over the stones.
Such a lovely place, but incredibly hot. Definitely didn't help my sun burn
That's be all blogged out tonight... See you tomorrow!
X
For those of you who don't know, or never listened in history, Pompeii is a Roman town which was devastated by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD.
It isn't quite the disaster that is made out, from what my guide told me. Several years earlier, a massive earthquake had ruined the city, and many of the 20,000 residents had been evacuated; only 2,000 remained and when the eruption happened, the city had just finished rebuilding itself to it's former glory, hence the beautiful state of the city.
Many people (including I) think that the city is so well preserved because it was covered in lava. This isn't the case. Pompeii sits just a top a small hill, and so the lava didn't reach the city limits. The ash, and the gasses, are what put Pompeii to bed.
Many people left the city almost instantly once the ash began to fall. The eruption happened at noon and by 4pm, all but 50 people were left in the city. Those 50 people were town officials and business men who could not leave. Within two days the ash had covered the city in up to 6 metres of ash. The sheer weight of the ash on roofs made the weak wooden structures collapse; the walls obviously still remain.
Believe it or not, Pompeii remained undiscovered until 1594 when an archeologist found what is now a very small house outside the city which turned out to be the office of the city cemetery. He reported the find, but not until 1687 did the entirety and scale of his discovery become apparent. The city fills nearly 100 hectares with only about 40 unearthed, or unashed.
Archeologists have excavated over the years and essentially found a perfectly preserved Roman city. There are perfect paintings (frescos) on walls and ceilings, and pots and pans left exactly how they were when the eruption happened.
It's quite like someone just all of a sudden made all the people disappear in the middle of their lives. Regular people just going about their business and then all of a sudden they were told to pack their things, get on chariots and leave.
Indeed as I mentioned before, some people did not leave and their fate has since become famous world wide. When, in 1925, archeologists were surveying the ground, they found voids under the ash. Luckily, for they did not know what these were, they injected liquid plaster into these voids, let it set, and then removed the surrounding ash. What remained were bones, I'm exactly the same position they had fallen. While the flesh decomposed over thousands of years, the imprints of their faces are horrendously human. One even shows a look of pure panic. The most memorable of these plaster casts is one woman, which lays, on her front with her arms out in front of her as if she has just fallen over running away. She is now turned over and you can see how she has one shoe on, not two. Her face is detailed enough to show that she has succumb to the poisonous gases which suffocated anyone who dared not to leave.
The rest of the excavations are incredibly beautiful. Many of them have been restored to exactly the way they would have looked in 79AD. The bakers shows the ovens and grindstone in the courtyard. Outside the public baths there is even a 'fast food joint' with a marble counter with holes in which still had their lids. They found wood remains found under these holes which indicates that they had food in which was kept warm to sell. Sort of like McDonald's.
Except not shit.
The incredible thing about the shops and houses is that you can still see perfectly how people lived. Small sinks in corners of butchers shops and little marble counters in the fishmongers. Even the grooves in the door way where the shutters were pulled across.
The only purely brick building, which hence survived the weight of the ash, was the theatre. It remained perfectly preserved, candles included. It was something. It held 5,000 people when full and many reckon this is where the city folk would have assembled to be told of the evacuations.
The roads, as my tour guide in Rome had told me, were exactly the right width. 5 steps. However, Pompeii was different. It was one of the major cities along the coast which didn't have an underground sewerage network. Because of this, the Romans adapted the roads to suit. The roads were set half a metre down into the earth so water could flow along them, and at cross roads there were stepping stones for pedestrians to cross the roads, similar to zebra crossings. The stepping stones we're the same size all over the empire, two inches smaller than the width of the wheels on chariots. There were perfect grooves either side of the stones where the chariots ran over the stones.
Such a lovely place, but incredibly hot. Definitely didn't help my sun burn
That's be all blogged out tonight... See you tomorrow!
X
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