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.

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

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

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 :)

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

Day 15 - Naples: BOAT BOAT BOAT BOAT

Yeah, you guessed it. Today, I went on a boat.

The tour started in Sorrento, about an hour from Naples on the train, I had to get up at 6.30am. Eurgh. Got to the train station back at Garibaldi for the 8.13am train, or as I like to call it, the carriages of mayhem. They were packed, the train was made up of 4 carriages and was utterly crammed. Needless to say, for €2 I couldn't moan too much. The train is run by a small company who run the trains back and forth to Sorrento and Naples and no where else. It is the only way to get to Sorrento and the track is probably 60 years old.

It dips in and out of valleys and through towns along the way, until about 10 minutes from Sorrento, it dives into a tunnel about 1/2 mile long. At the end, it emerges into what I shall now call the Valley of Death. The train goes over the valley, across a bridge no wider than the train itself. Even the locals on the train made a noise resembling what my head was saying .... I.e. 'oh my fucking Jesus Christ, Mary mother of God, Joseph and the donkey they rode in on'. But you'll be glad to know I kept my cool.

Alas, at the next station, the carriage went from crammed to disgustingly revoltingly crammed. The only way I can describe it, is imagine you're a foetus... In the womb... Without oxygen... And with 2,000 other people... None of whom speak English. Basically, imagine your worst nightmare and times it by 36,000,000... Then you're close to how I felt in that train; sardines have more room in a can.

Finally got to Serrento (after what felt like 9 months) and we exited the train (in much the same fashion as a baby exits a vagina - that is, slowly and painfully) onto the platform. I lingered to let the crowds pass before leaving the station, but as it got to a safe point to leave, another train arrived and just as many, if not more people got onto the platform.... I ran for it.

I was meeting my skipper at 10, and the train got in at 9.36 so I lingered at the station and then a very attractive young man walked up to me and said 'Sebastiano' who was the guy taking the tour, and lead me half way through Sorrento to a small courtyard and said 'you wait, with me, soon we go'. It was like something out of a film.

Needless to say, the young man didn't speak a word of English beyond what he has already said..... Sebastiano soon arrived with the rest his family; I had already met Ronaldo, his eldest son and he had another son and daughter (twins - Enrico and Tamo) and his wife.

Following behind were the two other people who were coming on the tour with us; two Brits, from Ilford in East London, one of whom I later found out had been to Loughborough Uni; small world hey!

We walked through the town to the harbour and jumped on the boat, a 30ft ribbed speed boat. I jumped on the front, the other two Brits at the back and the elder son who'd met me at the train station sat down opposite me with his brother (who was equally as beautiful) and their sister sat next to me.

We set out from the harbour along the coast with Sebastiano pointing out things to the other Brits and Ronaldo, Enrico and Tamo telling me things. It was lovely. So anyway, we pulled up in a tiny cove and dropped anchor. All of a sudden, the entire family were stripping off and getting ready to swim... Enrico and Ronaldo wore the smallest shorts I have ever seen and Tamo's breasts were crammed into her bikini top and looked like two ferrets in a bag. Once stripped, they jumped in and I swiftly followed.

We swam towards a cliff face and then Ronaldo, took my hand and said 'breathe, under, follow me' and he dragged me under the water just as I took a deep breath. He pulled me up into a tiny cave which glistened green and orange... It was the most beautiful thing. I was speechless.

Had I have had a waterproof camera, you'd have been able to see, but I guess this one is just for me...

We were treading water while Sebastiano told us that this was the cave of lovers, and it was good luck to kiss twice the person on each side of you. On my left I had the Sebastiano's wife and the other, I had Enrico. We kissed on each others cheeks and then one by one headed out to the boat.

I'll remember that cave for ever. So quiet and peaceful...

Back on the boat we headed to Capri. Said like cap (as in the hat) and ree (as in, the world split up, not said like the car.... If that makes sense). It's a small island off the mainland in the Bay of Naples crammed full of Italian families on holiday.

Across the open water, Enrico taught me to drive the boat, it was a little choppy, but nothing me and my co-captain couldn't handle. We docked and headed for lunch.

Sebastiano was clearly well known on the island, he already had a table booked at a restaurant and we all sat down. He explained that we didn't have to order, because they were going to have the best food and we could pick and choose what we liked. It was beautiful. Seafood and fish and pizza for Enrico (who sat next to me and kept trying to force feed me anchovies)

After we'd eaten, the two Brits headed into the town and I decided to stay with the family (purely for cultural reasons - the little red shorts the boys were wearing class as cultural right?) and drink more wine in the restaurant.

So while we were there, the boys tried to teach me some Italian words. I learnt 'bingenarto' not sure on the spelling, but it means, basically 'your mum' but it means the same for brother and sister. And also learnt 'ajen werto' which means, touch me quickly (basically masturbation).

Their dad kept telling them off in Italian. So I taught them some English words. I was cheeky. Taught them rimming and cottaging (got the same reaction as when I told Mary from work) and showed Ronaldo Grindr. He thought it was hilarious, his brother Enrico seemed more interested though. Once we had eaten we headed to the beach and Enrico and Ronaldo introduced me to their friends, we sat and sun bathed (I just burnt) for an hour or so. They were all hilarious. Doing impressions of each other and 'taking the piss' out of each others girlfriends. I learnt that Ronaldo didn't have a girlfriend or boyfriend, (he was definitely straight) and when asked, Enrico didn't answer, although his reaction to Grindr already told me all I needed to know.

We headed back to the boat after saying goodbye to their friends and they let me drive again. This time Enrico insisted on putting his hand on top of mine when it was on the throttle. I found this flattering.... But once I'd told him about Henry, he stopped doing it but continued to press himself against me and point things out on the coast.

When we were crossing back to the mainland we were going full pelt and Sebastiano reached up and stopped the engines. He pointed out of the boat and said 'Tuna'. Instantly the boys got excited and got their nets out. Sebastiano rowed us closer and you could see the 18inch or so tuna jumping out of the water feeding on sardines. As we just got close enough, a tuna jumped straight over Enrico's net and then they were gone. From what I could get, the family wound him up about it all the way back.

We got back to the harbour and I paid my (now vastly reduced price, from €80 to €30 which covered the food and fuel Sebastiano said) and bid my fair wells.

Back on the train to Naples (two hours) and straight to bed once I got back. I was so tired....

Best day on the trip so far. Without a doubt.

Must get me some red shorts.

Until tomorrow :)

P.S I have attached a picture of Ronaldo for you. Enrico wouldn't let me take a picture, but they're bothers, you can imagine it yourself.

Day 14 - Naples: Saturday Sun

Another lie in today, obviously. The earplugs I bought are just fantastic. I didn't hear any of the 8 people in my room leave. Once they'd gone I stood up and did a huge stretch, only to find one guy still asleep in the bunk above me. I don't think I woke him up.... Awkward

Went to the National Museum of Archaeology just north of the Quatro Spagnoli (the Spanish quarter, home of the mafia) and on the way noticed many of the residents making gestures to each other. (I asked the guy at the hostel what they meant later)

The first is where they pull the skin under their eye down with their index finger and then let it go. This apparently means 'watch out'. The second is where they run their finger from one ear under their chin to the other ear; this means 'I will cut you' or 'you're dead' (I prefer the latter). And the final one I saw was where you kiss your index and middle fingers, shove it at the person you're talking to, (but together, not apart like the V's) and then point to the sky. This means 'I can't believe what you're saying'.

Needless to say, I didn't get any done towards me. I may have already mentioned this, but the mafia don't concern themselves with tourists... So I've been told.

The museum was a tad underwhelming. A lot of the exhibitions were closed due to staff shortages. The ones that were open we're mainly made up of marble sculptures dating to 1st century BC which was nice, but there was no explanation of anything.

I got bored and left. No waste... It was free to get in anyway....

Went back down to the sea again because it's so beautiful.... It was much calmer than yesterday, there was no wind, and it being Saturday, the harbour was full of boats, big and small. It was so full in fact that there were bigger boats anchored off shore, one of which was so beautiful it looked like it was out of a bond film. I've taken a (poor) picture of it, it really doesn't do it justice.

So lunch was a Parma ham and ricotta calzone (folded pizza, then fried) it was lovely. Followed by lemon sorbet in an actual lemon and washed down with two Nastro Azzurro (anyone who's been to Italy knows that this is their national beer). I sat and people watched for hours. It's fast becoming my favourite thing to do ever.

From what I can gather, Naples is an incredibly wealthy city, outside of the city. As in, the centre is one of the most heavily populated cities in the world, with 210,000 people crammed into less than 10 square miles, it's more populated than London. Only Hong Kong and Singapore boasts higher concentrations.

The other thing to say about Naples is the unending sound of horns and scooters. They are everywhere, more so than Rome. The main difference being that in Naples, while it is law to wear a helmet when riding a motorbike (for the driver, not the passenger) seldom people actually follow this rule. It is the only place in Italy where the Polizia won't stop you for riding without one.

To give you an idea of how the Neopolitans feel towards the Polizia, when, in 2005, it was made the law to wear seat belts in the front of cars, people quickly came up with t-shirts printed with a seat belt on them to fool bad sighted police. They made them for both drivers and passengers. Incredible.

That sums up the police's control over the city. They are more there for the aesthetics than to actually do anything. I haven't yet seem them doing anything other than playing on their phones, or hugging their friends while on patrol. It seems they have the easiest jobs in Italy.

Quite a short blog today, not a lot happens in Italy; including blog writing...

Ciao x