Our Guide's Eight Months Pregnant

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The hotel's full, but we're just about the only people at breakfast. It seems that the hotel's rich and famous guests either aren't into breakfast, or don't mind forking out for room service. A very fit looking middle aged German lady is doing laps of the pool next to where we're sitting. I think she might be trying to make us feel guilty.

We've booked a taxi to take us in to Rhodes Town, where we've booked a half day walking tour. It's good to see the road in daylight. It's also good to see it when we don't have our hearts in our mouths as we did when we came here two nights ago with our lunatic taxi driver. We meet our contact, who introduces himself as George Papadopolous, which I think is the Greek equivalent of John Smith. It turns out that George is not our guide, and he takes us to get some coffee because our guide is running late. Apparently we're the only people on the tour. He tells us that he's originally from the northern part of Greece near Macedonia, but he's been in Rhodes for many years. He says that Rhodes' economy is totally dependent on tourism. Tourist numbers are up by ten percent this year, but income from tourism is down by forty percent. He says that most of the island's tourists come from Europe, and most of them don't have as much spare cash now as they did a year or two ago, so they're typically coming for shorter periods and are spending less. He says that it's relatively quiet around the town today because there's only one cruise ship in the port. He says that there are fewer ships coming here now because of the recent coup attempt in Turkey, which is only 13 kilometres away, as the cruise ship companies aren't prepared to take any risks on the safety of their passengers.

Our guide's name is Constantina, and she looks to be in her forties. She tells us that she's eight months pregnant with her first child, and today's tour will probably be her last. She's overflowing with enthusiasm. We're her second tour for the day and it's still only 10am. The tour's scheduled to last for three and a half hours, and it's very hot. She looks like she could go into labour at any time. Issy's had babies. I'm sure she'll know what to do if this happens while we're with her.

We set off through the narrow alleys of the residential parts of the old town. Constantina tells us that some of the houses have been here for a thousand years. She says that families in this area still live in the old style and houses typically only have one room. Everyone lives in this room and this often includes several generations from the same family. Houses are passed down to the family's eldest daughter, but she can only inherit it if she's married. She's allowed to have the house to herself on her wedding night, but after that the rest of the family takes up residence again. I hope she makes the most of her wedding night. I wonder what she does after that if she, or anyone else in the family for that matter, wants some privacy. I suspect they must have come up with something, or the Greek race would probably have died out by now.

We go into the very small old church of the patron saint of Rhodes Town. It's being prepared for the annual feast which will take place in a few days time. Constantina seems to know all the people in the church, including the lady doing the vacuuming, and she gets her to turn off the vacuum cleaner while we're here so that we can hear her. She has a conversation with just about everyone we pass in the street. Issy says that she thinks that all Greek people have conversations with all other Greek people in the street, whether they know them or not. I'm not sure about this. I get the feeling that Constantina really does know just about everyone in Rhodes. She takes us into a shop to try some black ouzo. It tastes like very strong licorice, and the proprietor tells us that it goes very well in coffee.

Constantina tells us that Rhodes has changed hands many times during its long history. After the Golden Age of Greece it became part of the Roman Empire, and then the Byzantine Empire. In 1309 it was taken over by the Knights Hospitalier, and the Palace of the Grand Master was built during this period. The Knights were defeated by the Ottomans under Suleiman the Magnificent in 1522, and they then moved to Malta. The Ottoman Turks then ruled Rhodes for nearly 400 years until they were defeated by the Italians in the Italo-Turkish War in 1912. The Italians then ruled until 1943 when Rhodes fell into German hands. We passed a very sad memorial earlier in the day to the more than 1,600 Jews from Rhodes and the nearby island of Kos who died at Auschwitz. Rhodes was eventually handed back to Greece in the aftermath of World War II.

Constantina is most definitely Greek. She gets a quiver in her voice as she makes her many references to "The Glorious Age", and we're left in no doubt that she's referring to the Golden Age of Greece, before it fell into the hands of the Romans, and a whole bunch of other subsequent foreign undesirables.

We pass a large mosque. Constantina tells us that there are quite a few of these in Rhodes dating from the Ottoman times. We go into the entry courtyard to the Palace of the Grand Master. She says that we don't have time to look around as part of the tour and suggests that we come back on our own later. We walk around the Palace and through a wide grassed area between the two parallel sets of city walls, which was intended to trap attackers. Constantina talks to a street performer all dressed in white, and then a man playing the bagpipes. If we were in any doubt before we're now sure she must know all the locals, and we suspect she probably knows most of the tourists as well. The bagpiper's bag is made from goatskin and the pipes from wood, and rather than a kilt he's wearing a torn singlet and a half falling down pair of baggy pants. If he's trying to look Scottish he's not doing a particularly good job.

We walk through one of the gates in the town wall out into the new part of the town, and then on through a large Italian-era market down to the waterfront. Constantina tells us about the Colossus of Rhodes, which was a bronze statue of the sun god Helios built in 280 BC at the entrance to the harbour. It was more than thirty metres tall which made it the tallest statue in the world at that time, and it was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. It only stood for fifty four years before it was toppled by an earthquake and broke off at the knees. The local people weren't sure whether they should re-erect it. To resolve their dilemma they did what apparently every good Greek did when faced with an important decision at that time, and went and consulted the Oracle of Delphi. The Oracle told them that they should leave it where it was, so it then lay on the ground for 800 years. Apparently is was still impressive even when it was lying down, and lots of tourists came here to see it. Eventually an Arab army attacked Rhodes, and they took it away and melted it down.

We go into the very old Evaggelisimos Church on the waterfront and then on past the casino and a busy beach draped with wall to wall sun lounges and beach umbrellas. The beach is much rockier here than at Lindos. It's also much windier, and the sea is much rougher. Constantina says that the west side of the island is always much windier and rougher than the east side.

We ask Constantina where she recommends we go after we collect our hire car. We'd need to spend several weeks here to visit all the places she suggests, and just to be sure we didn't miss any she goes into a tourist office and strips it of most of its brochures. We say our goodbyes and wish her all the best for the impending birth. I hope she gets home before the baby arrives.

We stop for lunch in a square in the old town. We're very thirsty, so I order a litre of lemonade and Issy orders a small glass of Coke Zero. The waiter misunderstands her and we both get litre glasses in the shape of boots. They're massive, and so big that the straws don't reach the bottom. There's also not enough ice to keep the entire contents cool; the only cool bits are at the top where the ice is.

We go back to the massive and very impressive Palace of the Grand Master which is a series of large rooms on two levels. It includes a special display on the life and times of Lord Nelson. We're not quite sure why; he doesn't seem to have any obvious link to the island. It's interesting nonetheless, and the views over the waterfront from some of the upper level rooms are excellent.

We catch a taxi to the airport to collect our hire car. Issy's been very quiet since before lunch, and she's also looking very anxious. She says that she's very worried about us driving here. I think the "us" means me; I think she'd rather stick pins in her eyes than drive here herself. I'm not sure whether her anxiety is a reflection of my driving ability, or the collective driving abilities of the Rhodes' population. The man from the hire car company says that Rhodes is very safe for driving. He also tells us that it's an easy place to find our way around, and that we won't need a GPS. We're not so sure. As soon as we leave the airport we take a wrong turn, and as we drive into the hotel car park we narrowly avoid colliding with a herd of goats.

We decide to drive into Lindos for dinner. It's now dark. Issy tells me that I'm not allowed to drive in Rhodes in the dark, but it seems that if we want to eat in Lindos she'll need to relent. We set off. Issy's fingernails have long gone, and she's now munching into her knuckles. We take several wrong turns before finding a spot in a car park that seems to be quite a long way from the village. I suspect that we may have been closer to Lindos before we left the hotel, but I decide that it might be better if I don't mention this to my anxious bride. We see the Lindos Acropolis all lit up at night. It looks spectacular. We walk from the car park up several long flights of steps to the main road and then down the other side along a long narrow path into the very busy village. It fits perfectly with our visions of the classic Greek scene with its whitewashed buildings and maze of narrow alleyways. There's no shortage of places to eat, and we settle for a seafood platter on an idyllic rooftop terrace.

We finish eating and attempt to retrace our steps back to the car park. We get lost. We stumble up dead ends, and up and down seemingly endless steep steps in near pitch blackness, but no matter what we do we always seem to keep finding ourselves back in the middle of the village. There seem to be more people around than ever. There's loud music playing and the party seems to be just warming up. Constantina told us this morning that we should "embrace the night life". Maybe we should. If we stay here until it gets light again we might have more chance of finding our way out. We wander around aimlessly for a long time before eventually stumbling across the path back to the car.

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