Home again, Thoughts after Greece
I’m home now—and have been for a few days. It feels good to settle back in, though part of me is still walking among the ruins of Greece. Our time there was wonderful and meaningful in a very particular way. As I wrote in my last post, my father was a classical studies major as an undergraduate, and many of our long talks late at night about history and philosophy circled back to ancient Greece. Standing in the places he once spoke of so vividly, well, in a way felt like a trip down memory lane of a different kind.
The travel itself — buses, trains, planes, and automobiles—I can’t say I enjoyed. I used to travel constantly for business, and even after retirement, we’ve done quite a bit of international exploring. But I think the thrill of the journey has worn off. Long flights, shifting cabin pressure, bone-dry air, and cramped, full planes don’t sit well with me anymore. Travel and destination are really two different experiences. You endure one so you can appreciate the other.
Unfortunately, both Therese and I came down with colds during the trip. Therese handles illness with grace—both physically and psychologically. I, on the other hand, am terrible at being sick. I get grumpy, impatient, and generally miserable, which doesn’t make me great company. And for some reason, I never seem to recover quickly. It’s the lingering symptoms that really frustrate me—that sense of being “mostly better,” but not quite there yet.
We picked up a rental car in Patras, where the Budget representative did me the great favor of upgrading us to a small SUV with an automatic transmission. Friends had warned us that driving in Greece could be a challenge, and they weren’t wrong. Still, we managed to reach every destination safely and on time. The drive out of Athens to the airport, however, was like something straight out of a video game—narrow streets with barely enough space to squeeze by parked cars, and the occasional standoff with another driver coming the opposite way. One of you had to pull over somewhere creative and hope for the best—the scooters and motorcycles dash to and fro, in and out of your field of view. Stop signs are suggestions, speed limits are ignored, and right of way is determined by courage and intimidation—it was wild!
Our favorite stop was a small port city called Epidavros, near the ancient sanctuary of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine—fitting, since both Therese and her sister Irene are physicians. We spent most of a day exploring the ruins, soaking up the history and quiet of the place. Our two-bedroom Airbnb felt like luxury after a string of tiny hotel rooms. We ate well and wandered the bustling harbor. But the real highlight was snorkeling over the submerged ruins of a Roman villa and farm.
The water around Greece truly is as beautiful as the photographs promise—deep, clear blues and teals. It was warmish and distinctly salty, but not in the harsh way I’m used to. The salt felt somehow finer, softer. You could climb out of the sea without that immediate need to rinse off. It was different and delightful.
I’ve posted a few photographs here, though they’re from Patras, taken before we traveled to Epidavros. After that, I didn’t shoot much worth sharing. Between the lingering cold and frustration with what I was capturing, I stopped. Sometimes you have to accept that not every trip produces great photographs—and that’s okay. Ah, well. The memories are enough.
In reviewing the photographs from Greece on my desktop I found them all too dark and too blue. I suspect that is a result of my editing them on my iPad. You cannot calibrate the monitor on an iPad. I will have to do some research and experimentation to see if I can solve that issue for any travel in the future, hopefull not in the immediate future. I just want to stay here on the shore of the Narragansett Bay.