We’re setting off to Athens today, except online in story world, not in the real world, because we’ve already done that, and here are some photos to prove it. But… ten days ago, we set off for our New Year adventure, and it started, as all good stories do, with a boat. (A train works better, but we don’t have one of those.)
The ferry was at a reasonable time of the morning, and the walk from Akandia to Mandraki was a pleasant one, especially as Neil took my luggage because I’d put my back out. We had time to kill which we were going to do at Mandraki with breakfast, but the plans started to go awry when H discovered he’d dragged his case through dog sh*t. Hell hath no fury like a hormonal teen, Shakespeare once didn’t write, but let’s just say there was great consternation and gnashing of teeth, beating of the breast and entreating to the great God of WhyMe? With the end of the world upon us, the goddads slipped away to find breakfast and a remedy for this early-morning teenage angst, returning a little while later with food, water, half the supply of papers from the public toilets, and a new toothbrush. The luggage cleansing was a success, and the universe was put back on an even keel.
Off to the airport.
Using Rhodes Airport in winter is almost a pleasurable experience. Being fair, it’s a very easy experience, and as we’re only ever flying within the country, it’s quick and quiet. I remember being there in the summer one year, escorting a couple of family members to their check in, and witnessing the horror of queues of passengers snaking through the concourse, outside, and along the path a mile or so. Not having this, I thought. So, I left my party in the queue just in case, and investigated what was happening at the desks. There, I discovered that a new check in had opened, and only a few people were being herded there by their rep. I was wearing Chino shorts, a white shirt, and had a travel bag slung over my shoulder, so I popped forward and acted the ‘organised, in a hurry, and keen to get my business done’ holiday rep act, in Greek, saying: ‘Sorry, mate, but are you checking in for the Exeter flight? (Or whatever it was.) Answer: brusque but affirmative. So, head down, checking a random sheet of paper and looking professionally flustered, I hurried back to my party and nearing them, called their names while still checking the paper, and signalled them to ‘Follow me… Quickly now.’ Reaching the front of the long queue and the back of the very short one beside it, I projected, ‘They’ll check you in here, and I’ll meet you on the other side,’ and left them to it while I stood a few feet away, attending to a vital text message from head office. Upshot: my party were checked in within minutes, and all was well.
Anyway… There were no queues when we reached Rhodes airport for our flight to Athens. In the winter, with the sun shining, it’s a pleasant place to be. We’d taken the bus there for €2.50 each rather than a taxi for €30.00 or whatever it is now, and had plenty of time to check in (no queue) and hang around upstairs after exploring the shops without the crowds.
I always like it when you can walk across the tarmac to the plane; it feels like you’re trusted and everything is homely, but in this case, it was a bus ride as the plane was up the other end (a technical expression). It also took off the wrong way around, by which I mean, we set off in a direction I’d never taken off from before, so we got a different view of Symi before turning and taking the usual course. There were occasional breaks in the clouds to allow a view, but before you know it, you’re up, along and down again, arriving in Athens 45 minutes later. Quicker than taking the ferry from Symi to Rhodes.
We had a Welcome Pickups driver waiting for us (highly recommended), who whisked us off into town and our apartment in a very comfortable car with Teen in the passenger seat examining the controls and no doubt imagining how he’ll be driving something similar in less than a year (yeah, right), and we landed safely ‘a few paces away from the Acropolis Museum,’ as the Airbnb blurb had said. It wasn’t that far from anywhere, actually, and came with lots of amusing quirks, like shower heads held on with masking tape (not even gaffer tape), and such like. It was handy for a decent supermarket, so we split up and shopped in pairs with one pair ringing up a total of €52.14 and the other, quite independently, ringing up one for €52.13 – how odd was that?
Shopping done, stored, unpacking done, blah blah, it was off to find food. (Teen must be fed every two hours or it does a gremlins thing and transforms into hormone monster.) Not far from our pad was a very nice Asian restaurant which did us well for dinner. It was opposite a Tibetan food place which I mean to call back to but never did. So much choice not enough time, and you will read in future instalments…
