Day 9, Tuesday - Patras, Nafpaktos, Delphi, Arahova
Breakfast, in the square was mercifully more quiet than the previous night. Neither one of us slept very well. While we had accepted that our room would be hot, we had not anticipated that it would also be flea ridden. We were bitten by mosquitos all night. Pam didn't feel good. She had a capuccino, then she had my capuccino. I ordered another and she drank most of that one too. Then she went back to the room to pack while I had a capaccino all to myself and wrote in my diary. I watched a lot of tourists go to and from the cruise ships docked on the pier just north of me. It occurred to me that Patras was a hub which people go through to get somewhere else. I don't think many people stay.
By noon, we had sufficiently recovered from our night at the Acropoli Hotel to begin another day. We drove up to the Castro at the top of the hill. The surroundings increase in serenity as one travels uphill. There is less traffic and more homes. As we drove up, I saw a small boy with deep dark intense eyes like my father's mother, who also came from Patras. I wondered if he was some distant relative. Unfortunately, the red bricked castle was closed on Tuesdays. We peeked through the iron gate. It appeared to be quite large and in good condition. Too bad it wasn't open.
We continued on to Rhion, just east of Patras, where there was a ferry to cross to the north side of the gulf of Corinth onto mainland Greece. At the very edge of the beach was a small Turkish fortress guarding the harbor. It looked like a giant sand castle. It must be fun for children. The ferry came just as we drove up. Our car was the first one inside. Everyone else on board was Greek. I took a picture of a small thin old man drinking Greek (Turkish) coffee. His clothes were worn, reflecting the poverty of the nation. The ferry docked at Anti (opposite) Rhion. There was an identical Turkish fort there too.
The road to Delphi passes through Nafpaktos, a seaside resort town with a charming old fortress along the beach. The water looked inviting and many people were swimming. It was clear that we should have spent the previous night here. Unfortunately, we only had time for a few pictures and a sandwich. Nafpaktos has been a strategic harbor since the Peloponessian War (500 B.C.). The Ottoman Turkish sultan, Suliman the Magnificent also lost his fleet to European forces here in the 15th century. Inside the local fortress was a statue of a man with a rifle raised in his hand as if to call his compatriots to arms. There was an inscription in Greek. Judging by the way he was dressed, he must have been some hero from the 1821 war of independence.
Patras and Nafpaktos were the only places where I almost regretted having Pam along. These were the only places where I saw many unattached women just waiting for romance to strike.
The road to Delphi continued along the coast which was puctuated by ridges separating small fishing villages. Every so often, we would turn a corner and come upon a small bay and a fishing village. There were boats along the water, followed by agricultural crops and finally houses against the steep mountain rising from behind. It seems the people plant on every square foot they can find.
As the steep incline up the mountain road began, the views became more expansive and majestic. You could see all the way down to the gulf. On the map, Delphi was only a few kilometers away, but it took forever to make the climb. Its hard to believe that ancient Greeks walked to this place from all over Greece. It is so far up in the mountains that I'm surprised that anybody even found the place much less built a religious sanctuary. The climb required serious dedication.
We checked to see if the museum was open. It wasn't, so we continued to the nearby town of Arahova. Arahova is a local winter resort for ski slopes ten miles away. We stayed at the hotel Xenia which was still in the midst of construction preparing for the winter season. The rooms had only a concrete floor and the bathroom wasn't finished either. But the hot water and shower worked fine! Outside on the terrace there was a view of the ravine and mountains unobstructed by railings. The valley was several miles below. This was not a hotel for small children.
We seemed to be the only tourists in town. We did a little shopping for weavings which this town is known for. We tried to buy a pretty tapestry, but the shop was run by women who were too tough to bargain with. The guide book said the food here was good. We asked a couple of local men where the best restaurant was. They thought about it for a time, discussing several possibilities among themselves and finally gave us their decision. When we got to the restaurant, all they had was macaroni and roast lamb with potatoes and rice for vegetables. We decided to go elsewhere, but every restaurant we checked had exactly the same menu. We picked the cafe with the best view. Arahova is also known for its wine, but our experience in the Athenian plaka taught us not to drink and travel.
We went back to the shops and bought a rug, sweater, and an embroidery for wall hanging. Walking back to the hotel, we passed the local plaka full of men drinking coffee. Greek women do not go out in the evening. They do not have the social freedom which Americans are accustomed to. Pam was the only woman in view. About 200 eyes were focused on her as we passed. As we entered our hotel, a tourist bus drove up. We were relieved to no longer be the only foreigners in town.
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