Dicing with Death

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Issy says that we need some exercise, so we decide to walk into Lindos which is about two kilometres from the hotel. If yesterday was anything to go by I think Issy's heart would get more exercise if we drove. It's very hot. The only way from the hotel to Lindos is along the main coast road. It's very busy and there are no footpaths. We start walking on the narrow strip of road between the edge of the traffic lane and the crash barrier. There are lots of buses on the road, and they don't seem all that keen on sharing the bitumen with us. Issy soon decides that this is too dangerous so we cross to the other side of the road where we can walk along the bottom of a concrete drain outside the crash barrier. However to get to the drain we first need to climb over the barrier. I can do this without too much trouble, but Issy struggles. She's too short. The crash barrier is scalding hot metal, and she needs to sit on it for a few seconds during the process. She says that her bum is now grilled.

The views from the top of the hill are way beyond stunning. Lindos sits on a small bay, with the Acropolis as a backdrop, and the sea is a mesmerising blue. We first heard about Lindos from the "Paradise of Lindos" Greek restaurant just up the road from us at home in Melbourne. It has a huge mural covering one of its walls, and the view in front of us now looks pretty much the same as the one in the mural.

On the way down into the village we pass lots of donkeys trudging up the hill with tourists on their backs. We recognise the village square we were in last night, and pass the so-called Donkey Station, which is a room about ten metres long and five metres wide crammed with these unfortunate creatures. There's a constant stream of them in and out, and the only relief they seem to get is from a man standing in one corner whose job it is to wash them with a hose. Apparently you can ride a donkey up the long steep hill to the Acropolis for five Euro. I wonder how the donkeys feel about all of this. None of them look particularly happy.

We find a restaurant with a roof terrace. We ask the waiter how he is today, and he says that he's still here. I tell him that this is exactly what my Greek neighbour back in Melbourne tells me when I ask him how he is. I dare not ask him how his wife is. When I ask my Greek neighbour this he tells me that unfortunately she's still alive. The waiter tells us that Melbourne is the second largest Greek city in the world and that he has relatives there. We've been hearing this a lot. Most people in Greece seem to have relatives in Melbourne.

We start the long steep climb up to the Acropolis, and recognise the path as one we were on last night when we were lost. I'm glad we didn't keep going in the dark. An English lady coming down the other way is clinging onto the handrail for dear life. In her words the climb "is not for the faint hearted". The path is steep, and its stony paving is shiny and slippery. We're puffing hard, but the views are certainly worth it.

Sign boards tells us there is evidence to suggest that there's been some sort of temple or fortification on this site since the tenth century BC. It was then successively fortified by the Greeks, the Romans, the Byzantines, the Knights and the Ottomans. It's surrounded by a large turreted wall, and its other main features include the remains of the Doric Temple of Athena Lindia dating from about 300 BC, and a large staircase and other column structures from around the same time. For such a significant archaeological site, it doesn't seem to be particularly well protected. People seem to be able to walk quite freely over all the ancient ruins, which can't be doing them a lot of good. I think I remember reading that you can't walk on the Acropolis in Athens at all any more, because of fears of it getting damaged. The views down into St Pauls Bay, which is on the other side of the Acropolis from Lindos, are particularly stunning. This apparently has only a small opening into the sea which doesn't look like an opening at all from our vantage point.

We trudge back down the hill and into a house displaying what life in Lindos might have looked like a hundred years ago. Consistent with what Constantina told us yesterday, it only has one room. A large piece of cloth known a "bride's tent" hangs from the ceiling and goes all around the bed below it. It seems that the bride was only able to use this on her wedding night. Constantina told us that the bride and her husband had the house to themselves on their wedding night and if this was the case I wouldn't have thought they would have needed a tent. It doesn't look too sound proof, but I still think that it might have come in handy when the rest of the family moved back in. The display however says that the bride wasn't allowed to use it then. I wonder why not. I hope the rest of the family had good supplies of ear plugs and sets of those eye shades that they give you to help you sleep on planes.

We walk down to the crowded beach, which has the same soft sand as the beach in front of our hotel. Most of the many beach umbrellas and sun lounges seem to be taken, and Issy says it looks like you don't need to pay for them here. Based on past experience I find this a bit hard to believe, but I agree we don't seem to have seen any signs showing prices. I wonder how they're funded. I doubt it would be the Greek government; they don't have any money, and even if they did find a bit of spare change lying around I'm sure they could find more important things to spend it on than beach umbrellas and sun lounges.

We decide that we've done enough dicing with death for today walking along the edge of the busy narrow highway, so we catch a taxi back to the hotel instead. We swim, read and sleep on the beach in front of the hotel. It's very relaxing.

We decide that driving into Lindos last night was just a tad too stressful, so we catch a taxi instead. The taxi fare seems to be money well spent. We get to the village square in a few minutes. I don't think we were there after an hour last night, and it then took us nearly two hours to get back again after we'd eaten. Issy's stress levels also seem to be much lower tonight, and I think I can even see some of her fingernails starting to grow back.

We find another rooftop terrace to eat on. Our waiter reminds us of Manuel from Fawlty Towers. He greets us with "thank you, hello, how are you, pleased to meet you, have a good holiday". We ask for a serviette and he again says "thank you, hello, how are you, pleased to meet you, have a good holiday". He then goes on to repeat this, or minor variants thereof, every time he comes back to the table. He's very cheerful and friendly.

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Comments

[COG]

Geeze that's a lot of beach umbrellas!

[COG]

and that's a lot of steps!

[COG]

wow look at those two blue colours - beautiful.