May « 2010 « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

May, 2010

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26
May 10

Hiking a volcano, swimming in the Aegean

Santorini, Greece

The Equinox found her way to Santorini this morning. There’s no port here, but tenders — smaller vessels — come out to pick up the cruising crowd.

It was an overcast day, for the most part, which is a shame because this is a beautiful area.

There were a few excursions for those interested in leaving the ship. We chose the most extreme one, mostly, I think, because we’re afraid of thinking of ourselves as wimps.

"This is a serious disembarkation pro-cess."

Before you could leave, though, you must visit the 1115-seat Equinox Theater. Cesar is in control there. You present your excursion tickets, they give you a number and Cesar calls out the number when your tender is here.

He entertains with jokes and tries to get people to sing. He makes sure you have your smile. “They are doing smile inspections on the gangway.”

And then he calls out numbers. “Groups Number 16 and 17, have a nice day.”

He repeats it a few times. And then he pauses. He tells a joke, or works some dialog with someone in the theater. Then he says “If you are in group number 16 or 17 and you are still here you must ask yourself … ‘Why?'”

I instantly decided that will be what I say if anyone ever gets upset with me about their own shortcomings.

So Cesar sends us on our way. We climb aboard the tender and I can show you my first picture of our home on the high seas (which are incredibly calm):

The Celebrity Equinox

I can see our stateroom from here!

So we putter on over to the volcano. Santorini was once a large island. About 3,500 years ago the volcano erupted — believed to be one of the world’s largest — and blew the island into several islands. The ship is sitting in the caldera which was filled with the ensuing tsunami.

This is our first active volcano.

The volcano is still active. It erupted three times in the 20th Century, most recently in 1950. The landscape is rocky and generally barren. There are a few scrub grasses and a few flowers. Rabbits scurry around, though we don’t see any. Lizards are the dominant creatures here, and they are hiding under the rocks.

You hike up the rocky path to the highest point on the island, you pass two volcanic craters to get there. In a few places you can see the sulfur stains on the rocks. In other places this is just a barren landscape. Near the peak there are a few vents accessible to visitors. You can smell the sulfur, see the steam and feel the heat rising out of the earth.

Active volcano.

We also swam in the warm springs trickling into the Aegean Sea. My night ended by adding “Swim off of a Greek isle” to the list of cool experiences.

Our guide suggested that after you swim up to the source of the warm springs that you should rub some of the mud on your skin, “Gentlemen your wives won’t know who you are when you get back on the ship.”

That’s because you’re rubbing sulfur mud on yourself. And you stink, badly. The wetnap “for refreshment” she offered did not help very much.

Here I must point out that the excursion literature said “Swim in the hot springs!” The guide said, twice “And when we go to the hot springs, or I should say, the warm springs … ” And then she tells you the water temperatures. You dive into the cold water, about 55-degrees, and then swim your shivering self to the springs which are about 70-degrees, warm by comparison only.

Shivering, smelling of sulfur and trying to get dry we putter on over to the village of Santorini.

Santorini, Greece

Most of the town, which is driven by tourism, is high up the hillside. There are three ways up: walking the 500-plus steps, cable car or riding a donkey up the 500-plus steps. We’ve already swam on a Greek isle, so here’s another opportunity for an unusual experience. We took the donkeys.

Which are really just wild-eyed, crazed death mammals. There are stirrups, but no reins. You aren’t steering anything. The donkeys know where they are going and they don’t care about the pedestrians that are in their way. The people walking, though, are very displeased with you. You’re holding on for dear life though, and all you can do is look back, toss a hasty “Sorry!” (You realize the futility of explaining pretty quickly) and then turn to re-grip your tenuous hold.

The Yankee and I ascended with three ladies who have never been in a saddle. This was a traumatic experience for them. After the donkey driver started whipping my ride I decided we weren’t riding back down. For entirely different reasons The Yankee had already decided she’d find a new way down. If the return trip was as chaotic as the journey up this would prove a very wise decision.

So we shopped. Found a few things for us, found a few gifts, met a few nice people, including an Australian who found her way to live and work in Greece. How? “My husband.”

We walked around, seeing the sites and wishing we had more time here. The only real schedule on this ship is “Be back before we depart, because we will leave you.” So we have to be aware of the time. Everyone here is, because there are two cruise ships here and we have three ways to get back down to the water.The cable car line, we later learned, was more than an hour wait. (And not for the faint of heart, we heard.) The walk was a good choice.

And they look like this:

There are lots of stairs.

So your ankles and knees hate you. And you realize, about halfway down, the long, irregularly spaced path of switchbacks, that going down 500 steps can take a while.

But we made it. We were the last ones off the island. Or we might have been. Who is to say? You begin to perceive people and time differently in this environment. There is only what is in front of you. It becomes implausible that a person is standing to the side. It is impossible that anyone could exist behind you. This is what it is like when people turn their brains off. You make the meals — and, because it is a cruise ship there is a shameful amount of food available — and that’s about it. The food, in fact, is the only difference between vacationers and a desperate mob heedless of all else happening around it.

Not to sound grim, but food choices are tough, taking up all the mental power any of us packed. (There are many people here mystified by the purpose of the glowing arrows prominently on display at the elevators.)

Have you ever seen a sunset over Greece?

Sunset over Santorini, Greece

The day’s pictures are here. Would you like to see a hasty panorama from Santorini? Try here.

Here we are at sea. And there are lots of pictures from Rome: Day One, Day Two, Day Three. I’ve published almost 200 from this trip already. I’ll have a video from the day at some point, but that will probably take a while.

Tomorrow: Mykonos, Greece.

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25
May 10

Sea Day

This is a big ship.

The captain — or as they like to call him, the master of the Celebrity Equinox — refers to it as “this magnificent vessel.”

He’s right.

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24
May 10

Sailing away

Take a good hard look cause we're sailing on a boat.

We wake up this morning with an even greater purpose: We must make it to our cruise ship.

So we enjoy the little breakfast provided by our fabulously located and luxurious two-store hotel in Rome: hard roll, sugar dusted croissant and all the TANG you can drink, everyday.

We wrestle our luggage out of the hotel, which is so small that the two of us and our suitcases can’t stand at the desk all at once. We navigate our way into the hallway and to the elevator. The lift is so small that it can’t hold us and the luggage — and we didn’t even over-pack this time. The lift is so small, in fact, that one person, two rollers and a backpack are capacity.

So down from the fourth floor goes the lift. And then it comes back up again. And then I climb in, shutting the exterior wire door and then the inner doors and then sliding down to the ground floor. This takes a while, but it is “quaint.”

And then we walk to the Termini, the bus/train stop in the city center. I know that our big suitcases are close to 50 pounds each. Our smaller bags are, of course, less. We each have backpacks stuffed to overflowing. It is a bright, sunny, warm day. The walk isn’t long, but just long enough.

The Yankee left her special lipstick at home, but not to worry. In Termini there is a Sephora and she is able to pick up a replacement. I stand guard with our luggage, enough for an entire 17-day European adventure. Finally she emerges. “Italians.” Picking up one piece of lipstick takes a while.

So now we must find the train. Now Termini doesn’t look that big from the outside, but it meanders. And I think, at one point, I went down one flight of stairs so I could walk 25 feet to walk up another flight of stairs. I’m doing the gentlemanly thing and carrying the bigger luggage.

We finally find the right line, and then must find the proper train. This involves much more walking. I’m drenched in sweat. We see the right train and, somehow, she realized it was about to depart. So The Yankee sprints. With luggage. And she manages to jam her foot in the door as it is closing.

Two nice guys pry the door back open. She climbs in, I’ve caught up — with the heavy luggage — and I stagger on board. Our bags are too big for the overhead rack, so we just do our best to stow the stuff in adjacent seats. If there had been someone there to monitor tickets and seating I’m sure he would have demanded we purchase two more seats.

So we ride northwest for an hour or so to the town of Civitavecchia, which is how the Romans cruise. We are actually a few minutes early, so we catch a bite to eat in a cafe at the train station. A girl who was just getting off work was doing her best Frankie Valli. She was embarrassed when she noticed I was watching, but she did a good job. And since it is such a good song …

So we had a sandwich and then started the long walk to the port. We found a bus, somehow lugged our luggage on and then drove to the ship to begin the embarkation process. You must fill out paperwork that says you haven’t been sick, don’t know any pigs with the flu.

They take our picture. They take our passports. They give us a little card with a magnetic strip. They run us through metal detectors. We board the ship. They spray us down with antibacterial hand soap. They begin offering drinks within six steps of being on board. We have embarked.

We find our room, throw our backpacks inside and head to the pool. We got onboard very early, so there is time to kill. We decide to read.

This ship has a library. It spans two decks.

There is also a conference desk. Not sure what they expect people to do there.

We found the dining room tonight and I had my first dose of cruise ship food. I’m sure it will only become more ridiculous as the voyage continues.

This is my first time cruising. The Yankee is the expert. We both agree this place is huge. More on that later.

For now, there are a few pictures from today. You can see the pictures from Rome here: Day One, Day Two, Day Three. Of course, you can see years of pictures, if you were so inclined.

Tomorrow we’re at sea; we’re taking it easy.

We’re on a boat.

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23
May 10

A day in the park (museum and elsewhere)

We visited the Villa Borghese Museum today. Originally a suburban party villa, the collection that now resides there was started by by Cardinal Scipion Borghese, the nephew of Pope Paul V. From those 17th Century beginnings, coming to Napoleon’s brother-in-law and finally transforming into a public museum in the 1700s.

The museum boasts the world’s greatest Caravaggio collection and one of the best Bernini collections you can find. There is no photography in the 20-room museum, but here are our favorite sculptures for the day, first a Bernini, his famous Apollo and Daphne. It must be seen in the round, and up close. Then, even someone with little understanding of sculpture, like me, is awed. Another incredible piece is Antonio Canova’s Pauline Bonaparte, which was quite scandalous. She’s reclining on a mattress, which looks for all the world like a different stone, or perhaps like an actual mattress.

The detail in both are incredible.

All of the Caravaggios are in one room. Bernini, meanwhile, absolutely steals the show. He always does. His talent was so great that he could convert even the unartistic viewers. The man had a gift. And makes you redefine your concept of having a gift.

There is a park on the property. We rented a two-person, pedal yourself rickshaw and drove it around, enjoying the beautiful afternoon weather. I took a lot of pictures.

We had a War Eagle moment at the museum, Ren’s first international one. We were waiting to go inside — you visit by appointment — and a lady walked by and noticed my shirt. Guess I’ll have to make a WEM section for the site after all.

We went across the Tiber River into Trastevere, which has gone from medieval village, to working class neighborhood to Left Bank to high priced neighborhood to rustic and touristy. The graffiti is plentiful, though. To get there we caught a bus, which took us to a tram. We missed our stop on the tram, so we got off about six stops later to catch a tram headed the original direction. We took the correct stop (which was the intial stop for the first tram, incidentall) and wandered deep into the neighborhood.

The sky was growing dark and we are stumbling through alleys. Occassionally we wander across a little piazza that Americans have overtaken. Mostly we feel like we are in alleys. A policeman finally helps us find our way to Trattoria da Lucia. Rick Steves says “lets you enjoy simple, traditional food at a good price in a great scene. It’s the quintessential rustic, 100 percent Roman Trastevere dining experience, and has been family-run since World War II. You’ll meet four generations of the family, including Giuliano and Renato, their uncle Ennio and Ennio’s mom — pictured on the menu in the 1950s. The family specialty is spaghetti alla Gricia with pancetta bacon.”

We sit in the alley under the stars, in Italy. We are serenaded by an old man on an accordion who says “U.S.A.!” and then launches into a passionate “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It was perfect.

Steves has given us three great restaurants in a row, so I say pick up his books before your next European visit. I had the spaghetti alla Gricia, which was profoundly delicious. We’re ripping off that dish. And we also found the most simple, delicious summer dessert. When we get settled at home after the trip you’ll have to stop by and have some.

A table of four American ladies, a mother and her three adult daughters, were seated next to us. We exchanged names and hometowns and notes and tips on traveling in Rome. Turns out they are from not far from where my family lives. Turns out one of the ladies’ daughters is going to a basketball camp at Auburn. She gives us her card. She is a financial adviser.

We need one of those.

We got turned around in the alleys of Trastevere trying to leave, somehow emerging blocks away from where we needed to be. At first it was The Yankee’s fault (and she’s usually great at this) and then I took over, pointing us in at least the right direction. Time was of the essence. Meals aren’t to be rushed through here. Late starts and two hour dinners are the norm, and the waiters aren’t necessarily in a hurry to produce the check.

Our hotel is on the exact opposite side of Rome from Trattoria da Lucia and the buses stop running at midnight. We finally make it back to the tram stop, catching what might have been the last ride of the night back across the Tiber. We caught the absolute last bus, waiting out what seems to be the driver’s mandatory break at St. Peter’s, still miles from our place.

Finally we made it back to our neighborhood. But we missed the stop. We needed the fourth stop. The Yankee (who really is good at this sort of thing, normally) insisted we’d just made the third stop. Turns out the fifth stop is at the bus station, so we walked back from there. I’ll give her grief over that for days.

In addition to the slideshow above, there is a brief photo gallery on the day.

Tomorrow our cruise begins!

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22
May 10

Vatican video

A bit shaky, a bit rushed, very Flip, but nonetheless: St. Peter’s Basilica, as seen from the ring around the dome. The mass choir sings. Everything here is more impressive and beautiful in person.