July 12th – Taking The High Rhodes

Rhodes Town is such a historic city  that it’s always fun to just walk its medieval streets at random and see what you come across next. But today we decided to get a different perspective on the town by walking around the massive walls that encircle it. 

Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, the walls are only open for walkers from midday until 3pm, during the hottest part of the day – of course, there’s no shade up there – but we don’t mind suffering for our art, so we took on the challenge.

As we had time to kill, we walked to the beach to sit in a trendy beach bar, overlooking lines of beds of frying flesh. It was strange to think that this hedonistic beach scene was sitting just 15 minutes away from the historic atmosphere of probably Europe’s most complete medieval city.

Once the sun had got to its highest point, it was time for some wall walking. The huge walls are probably the tallest construction in the city, so they provided a great alternative view over Rhodes Town, its skyline, a mix of minarets, church towers and palaces that tells you the story of the different powers who have controlled the island over the centuries. As we shuffled along the elevated dusty path – a medieval version of New York’s High Line – you couldn’t help but think about the huge amount of labour that must have gone into their construction. The walls are 12 metres thick (36 feet wide) in places, and are 10 metres high (30 feet tall). How scared must the Knights of St John have been to go to these lengths (and widths)?

As it turned out, they were right to be scared, because the city fell in 1522 after a 6-month siege from the Ottomans, so perhaps any wall-building politicians should be aware that these barriers can only hold out so long, before the tide of history washes over them.

Rhodes is such a historic treasure trove – it was great to get that different perspective.

 

July 11th – A Pilgrim’s Progress in Patmos

For some parts of the past 16 months it’s felt that we’ve been living on the edge of an Apocalypse, so perhaps it’s appropriate that today we were visiting the so-called “Island of the Apocalypse” in Patmos. Fortunately, the Apocalypse they’re referring to didn’t involve any zombies or mutants, rather the Revelations that were given to St John when he visited the island in the years after the death of Christ.

So, we decided to follow the pilgrim’s path and trek our way up from the port to the imposing castle-like Monastery of St John sitting at the top of the very steep hill overlooking the island. As we huffed and puffed our way up the rough paths that climbed the hills, again we were thankful for the strong winds that were blowing to keep it a little bit cooler.

Halfway up, we passed the Chapel of the Apocalypse, a small white chapel that encloses the actual cave where St John was sleeping when the voice of God gave his lurid account of the end of days. The chapel wasn’t open (it was Sunday after all!), so we carried on up to Chora (Patmos Town), the island’s original capital. Staggering up that vertiginous hill had you questioning why anyone would choose to live up there, rather than on the rather lovely coast below; but the answer was that back in the 11th century (when the Monastery was founded), the island was frequently attacked by pirates, in search of the treasures that the Monastery was home to.

Patmos Town is an extremely picturesque tangle of whitewashed streets – a labyrinth that’s as difficult for leg-weary tourists to find their way around as it probably was for medieval Turkish pirates, but we managed to get where we wanted to (eventually!). I was quite surprised to see that there were actually three ships in port today, so we decided to miss out on the Monastery of St John where all the tour groups go to, and instead went to a different atmospheric monastery, the Monastery of the Holy Perpetual Spring. The very friendly nun there explained to us that there wasn’t actually any spring in this 400-year-old Monastery, but they had the important job of protecting the island through prayer – a job that she thought they were doing pretty well.

Fortified by her blessing, we made our way back down the hill to experience the completely different atmosphere of Skala. Unlike sleepy Patmos Town (where the cats on the street must have outnumbered people by three to one); here, the streets were lively with tourists visiting its trendy cafes and boutiques.

We joined in the café culture and spent some time appreciating the contrasts of this lovely island – between the conservative hill town and the pleasure-focused port town, both essential elements of a beguiling little island. This is a version of the Apocalypse that I like.

July 10th – A Bonus Second Day in Syros

When you haven’t been able to go anywhere for a such a long time, it’s not difficult to turn a negative – the cancellation of our visit to Paros due to high winds – into a positive – a second day to explore the beautiful island of Syros. Actually high winds at this time of year aren’t necessarily a bad thing – they take the edge off the searingly hot temperatures and they make the islands a more pleasant environment to explore.

Admittedly, the beaches and the scrubby countryside of Syros are probably not as stunning as Paros, but it’s still a pretty attractive place. So, having spent yesterday in the urban environment of the capital, Ermoupoli; we took our bonus second day here as an excuse to explore the island a bit more. 

First we quickly called in at the Church of the Dormition, which in the 1980s had been surprised to find out that they had been sitting on a wonderful little painting by El Greco without knowing it. Not necessarily what you expect to find on this unheralded little island.

Our plan was then to visit the small beach towns of Galissas and Finikas on the eastern side of the island; but on our way, we called in at Kini first to see how that looked. Well, it looked pretty good. So good in fact, that we never moved on. The sandy beach itself is very narrow, but it sat in a lovely wide bay fronted by beachside tavernas. 

Choosing which taverna to set up camp in was our most difficult decision of the day, because once we were in situ, again we weren’t moving. We’re not even “beach people”, but we loved our day by the beach. For people starved of travel, it felt so exotic, and so carefree, to just enjoy the sound of the waves, the twinkling of the sunlight on the water, and a cooling dip in the clear waters. There wasn’t anything sophisticated about the environment – the food was simple but tasty, and the area was catering to what seemed a local crowd – but it was everything we wanted, everything we needed.

It may be that the pandemic has left us easily pleased, but I think it’s easy to be pleased by a day like this. Here’s to many more.

PS. Another observation of getting back to cruising. After so many months of having to think of things to fill our time, suddenly we have found that we don’t have enough hours in the day. There are so many things to do on here, that we’re running around cramming them all in (Ok, I get the irony that we spent the first half of the day doing very little by the sea!). I fear that if something has to give, it may be our exercise regime – we’re only onboard for a month, what harm can that do?

July 9th – Overjoyed to Visit Syros

 When you haven’t been able to travel for over a year, it’s quite likely that pretty much anywhere different could seem idyllic. But, I have to say that we loved our day in Syros. 

The list of what we loved wasn’t hard to compile – searing blue skies, turquoise seas, warm breezes, relaxed island atmospheres and delicious food. It was like everything that we’ve been missing since the pandemic, had been rolled into one place.

Actually, Syros isn’t your typical Greek Island paradise. By the standards of the Cyclades, its capital Ermopouli (population 20,000) is actually quite large and busy. The shipyard in the harbour immediately told us that there’s an industrial side to a place that doesn’t all revolve around tourism. While, the historic Catholic churches we saw told the story of an island that was mainly Catholic for most of its life – Greek Orthodox people have only been in the majority since the mid-19th century (and Catholics still make up over a third of the population).

It felt so incredibly liberating to be exploring somewhere different, so we decided to walk everywhere. We marched through the town’s monumental central square; we trekked up the steep hills to Ano Syros (with its whitewashed labyrinth of alleys, this was stereotypically Cycladic); we called in at huge Orthodox churches; and we passed by neo-classical mansions from the town’s 19th century glory years. We visited the town’s superb theatre (a pint-sized copy of La Scala), and walked by the town’s concrete “beach” where people were floating lazily in the crystal-clear waters. It was like Covid had never existed.

To complete the fantasy, we stopped for a delicious lunch by the harbour – we convinced ourselves that those tomatoes have never tasted so sweet, that the cold beer had never been so delicious, that the sea had never been so blue. We kept on reminding ourselves that THIS IS WHY WE TRAVEL.

It truly takes you to have an enforced absence from something, to really appreciate it. 

July 8th – Getting Back to Cruising

For all of us it’s been a long and hard 16 months since this horrible pandemic began, so for a couple of people who have been used to a rootless (and to some degree carefree) existence for the last few years, you cannot believe our excitement at getting back to seeing the world again.

We have flown to Athens to join Silversea’s newest ship, the Silver Moon, and we are having to pinch ourselves that we are in another country, experiencing different (ie better) weather, and enjoying our world as it used to be. That’s not to say that international travel isn’t without its worries – a constant nagging concern that you haven’t got the paperwork you need; being completely unused to being in such close proximity to so many people at the airport and on the flight; and a nagging fear of being infected when you’re so close to getting onboard.

Fortunately, all the worries have been unfounded and the flight and immigration all went smoothly, as long as you don’t mind every queue taking at least twice as long as it used to. On the way, we tested ourselves before the flight; we were tested on landing; and we were tested before we were allowed to board – so, we couldn’t have felt much safer.

And, what a sigh of relief we breathed as we stepped onboard. We’ve had enough of the “real world” – that’s been distinctly unenjoyable since March 2020; it’s time to enjoy the wonderful escapism of cruising. So what if we have to wear a mask when we walk about the ship – everything else is reassuringly the same. Within minutes, it’s obvious that everyone onboard – the crew and passengers alike – have that same feeling of relief, a sense of homecoming, a sense of escape.

It’s almost like the world’s gone back to normal….

 

March 13th – Observing the Changes in Port Vila

Vanuatu’s pretty capital, Port Vila is recognised as one of the most pleasant urban environments in the South Pacific, so we had a lovely day exploring this relaxed little city.

Vila always used to appear like it was locked in a time warp, but it’s obvious that the modern world is encroaching on even this remote spot. The roads in town are crowded with minivans cruising around touting for business, the high street is now full of Duty Free Shops with signs offering “cheap booze”, and it seems like the Chinese are getting increasingly influential here. 

In fact, the whole town has now become almost totally modern-looking – the rebuilding required after the devastating effects of Cyclone Pam in 2015 has seen to that. But, the biggest change to the skyline is the dominating cylindrical shape of the huge National Convention Centre, “kindly” built by the Chinese in 2016. The c.$25million dollar construction costs (of course, employing mainly Chinese workers) were funded by a development grant from the Chinese government. However, they didn’t provide funding for the maintenance costs of this mammoth building which has been a constant drain on the Vanuatu government’s meagre finances ever since. Plus, many have questioned why they would build a convention centre capable of handling 1,000 delegates when there aren’t nearly enough hotel rooms in Vila to accommodate that number. We went in to have a look around, and it was totally empty but still being well-cared for, so hopefully it won’t turn into a white elephant.

The place where you can get to experience the atmosphere of old-time Vila best, is at its lively market, where many of the Afro-haired ladies still wear the traditional “Mother Hubbard” dresses introduced by the western missionaries. Everyone was incredibly friendly, and the sheer array of tropical fruits (including enormous avocados and super-size papayas) made you realise what a fertile island this must be.

On a hot day, we tried to soak up whatever breezes were blowing in from the sea along Vila’s attractive waterfront, stopping for a coffee, and to admire the signs in the endearing pidgin English local language, Bislama – it’s great fun trying to work out what’s been said in this simple but expressive language. 

In a place that receives a fair amount of Australian tourists, it’s interesting to see the mix of traditional and western influences in town. The choice of restaurants was much better than you’d expect of a remote place like this, but it still seemed a fairly harmonious place without a great sense of “them and us” between locals and foreigners.

Vanuatu is changing, but it still remains a really charming and friendly place.

March 11th – School Visit in Lautoka

For many people, the highlight of a visit to Fiji is its wonderfully warm and friendly people – today confirmed why.

On a morning of rainstorms of biblical proportions, we visited a small village to learn more about village life and to visit a school. Somehow the incessant deluge didn’t detract from what was a really enjoyable day. 

We first went to a kava ceremony in the village hall, which started off with the atmosphere  a solemn ceremony, and soon turned into the atmosphere of a jolly drink up, as our hosts plied us with gulps of muddy-looking kava. Kava is a mild narcotic that the locals say relaxes them – our guide said if you have 10 or 15 cups you’ll be in a stupor, but after only two my tongue was already beginning to feel numb.

We were meant to be doing a walking tour of the village, but seeing as Noah was assembling animals two-by-two, we decided to turn it into a driving tour. As this wasn’t going to be very exciting, I persuaded the guide to invite a group of 6 ladies onto the coach to get them to sing to us. It was brilliant! The women were so joyful as the belted out some songs from the back of the bus – it turned out that it was the first time that they’d been on a posh air-conditioned coach, and every time they passed one of their friends peering out from their verandas they went crazy. Their happiness and joy was more infectious than coronavirus.

Then we went to the rain-sodden school. The plan had been for the whole school to come out to sing to us, but we had to make do with just Year 8 squeezed onto a porch. The kids started out shy at first but as they sang their songs and interacted with us they came out of their shells and as curious about us as we were curious about them. It was heart-warming to be a part of, and it was lovely of Silversea to donate two boxes of supplies to the school. If all Fiji’s children are as intelligent, engaged and polite as these kids, then the country has a very bright future.

In the afternoon, the rain finally lifted and we went into Lautoka – Fiji’s second largest city. Being a mainly modern home to a huge sugar mill and a large flour mill didn’t make for the most exciting of urban environments, but it was a pleasant enough place. Like Suva, the people were really friendly and the colourful market was the main sight, but the main difference to Suva was that Indians (or Indo-Fijians) made up a much higher proportion of the population. In Fiji as a whole, Indians tend to dominate the retail trade, but there were more Indo-Fijians out on the street, in what seemed like a fairly harmonious place.

Our three days in Fiji have been really enjoyable – not just because this was one of the few Pacific countries to welcome us in, but because it’s a beautiful country inhabited by some lovely people.