Tag Archives: Delhi

Road Trip in Greece.

Write it all down I was told; let’s give it a try. Here I am on a bus thundering north out of Athens to Delphi, scene of the Oracle, then to Meteora where the famous monasteries perch on top of their pinnacles, then to the memorial at Thermopylae. Already we have passed the site of the Battle of Marathon where the Athenians defeated the Persians, after which a soldier (Pheidippides) ran the 27 miles into the center of Athens to spread the word of the victory. Poor guy dropped dead from exhaustion but his name lives on, and every year the Athens Marathon follows his route from the site to the City center. It takes place in a couple of weeks.

I’m live blogging this and wondering when the last time I did that was. Could it have been the marshrutka ride between Khujand and Dushanbe in Tajikistan? That was certainly memorable. I digress! This is a good road, three lanes in each direction, up and down through low hills, passing a couple of reservoirs which look to be in good shape, unlike those in California where the reservoirs have all but dried up after the long drought. There are cotton fields; Greece is the major producer in Europe. Solar and wind farms. We pass Thebes and lurid tales of Oedipus (the King). We all know the story but not perhaps that it is the first part of a trilogy by Sophocles and that the premier was in 429BCE. That is BCE! Old!

Delphi, high, high up in the mountains with fabulous views over the surrounding hills, valleys and down to the sea beyond. Of course the ruins are perched precipitously with endless steps up and down, still not easy, but quite a delight to explore. In the height of summer it must be hellish but here in late October the temperature is cool and the crowds, reasonable. Two hours to look at the ruins and then another hour in the museum. I’m not a big museum person but this one was fascinating. Lots of gods, gold and statues, I absolutely loved it.

Off into the foggy mountains we go, in the dark, heading for Meteora. Hope we get to see something of it.

Monasteries we saw, and a convent. The day broke foggy but in the elevator in the early light I saw, for the first time the rocky crags above the town of Kalabaka. Quite majestic, impossibly high, but no sign of a monastery. A hasty breakfast with my tour mates, two Grandmothers from Melbourne (I really have an aversion to cold fried eggs) and off out to pile into the van, pick up the younger folk, one from Argentina (Diego) and the other from Kazakhstan. There was a bit of a kerfuffle finding the local guide that resolved itself and away we went, up. Up and up. Have I mentioned I suffer from vertigo? I was nervous. We stopped for a quick look and craned, craned until we nearly fell over backwards. Meteora translates to ‘Suspended in the air’ and so it appeared. We were looking up at the Great Meteora Monastery where building started in possibly the 13th Century, nobody really knows, and on that day it was closed to tourists. There are six occupied monasteries surviving out of the original twenty-four and they take it in turns to open their doors to us tourists. The monks built their monasteries in such a remote and challenging environment to both be as far away from the humdrum of life and also to be nearer to God.

The word piety sprang to mind as we made our way through cathedrals, churches and chapels. I know nothing about Orthodoxy, perhaps I should read up on it, these religious sites are all dedicated to Greek Orthodoxy and, it is claimed, maintained the Hellenistic way of life during the Ottoman occupation (mid 15th – early 19th). This of course was a very good thing and I don’t think you will go far wrong if you imagine the monks, crouched over desks, copying ancient books and manuscripts to preserve the culture for future generations. They are there, the copies made and more are being discovered, because in times of trouble the monks would hide their treasures within the walls or bury them in the grounds. Perhaps one day the lost plays and philosophical tracts from Ancient Greece will reappear. We can always dream. I could wax on about the ever present incense, the extremely graphic paintings and drawings, the tranquility of the monks themselves, the quiet, the views out over the precipitous drops. You get the picture.

And of course there was James Bond. Yep, For Your Eyes Only was partly filmed at the Monastery of the Holy Trinity, Meteora. The result was that the small town below, Kalabaka, doubled in size within five years, and, more than half the monks left. I’ll leave an opinion to you…

On the way back to Athens we stopped at the site of the battle of Thermopylae, with the accent on the second syllable in English but in Greek, Thermopiles with the accent on the third syllable. I got some very strange looks when I said I wanted to go there. Actually there is not a lot there, as I was constantly informed. There is a rather large memorial to King Leonides and a bit of a plaque where the battle took place. Behind the memorial there is a four lane highway and above it, electrical pylons. I was pleased to visit and see that the memory lives on (480BCE) but disheartened today to read that the site is now a beacon for far right wing lunatics from all over Europe and America. The article was in today’s (November 7) Washington Post if you care to Google it.

Massive wall at Delphi.

Massive wall at Delphi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the excavations proceeded they realized the wall was covered with inscriptions.

As the excavations proceeded they realized the wall was covered with inscriptions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Charioteer. He may be missing an arm but he has eyeballs and seems to follow you as you walk about the room. Spooky.

The Charioteer. He may be missing an arm but he has eyeballs and seems to follow you as you walk about the room. Spooky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apollo and Artemis. The adornments were found buried in a box. After 2,000 years!

Apollo and Artemis. The adornments were found buried in a box. After 2,000 years!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monastery of the Holy Trinity.

Monastery of the Holy Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A monastery at Meteora.

A monastery at Meteora.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The only way in and out in earlier times. A traveller waiting to be hoisted up asked when they changed the rope. "When it breaks"

The only way in and out in earlier times.
A traveller waiting to be hoisted up asked when they changed the rope. “When it breaks”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Memorial for the Battle of Thermopylae.

The Memorial for the Battle of Thermopylae.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burial site of the 300.

Burial site of the 300.

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From Goa to Rajasthan.

On Tuesday I flew from Goa to New Delhi and the difference in pace was like a catapult launch from an air craft carrier. Goa was just perfect, I cherished every moment. Goan food is exceptional, curry and spicy of course but not harshly so, fish abounds, lobster is almost a staple. No hang ups about beef either, there are burgers on the kids menus. The Delhi dwellers were taking a few kilos home, frozen and packed in ice, they seemed delighted and so did the kids. Not sure about that, but hey, it wasn’t me beef smuggling, I was just the one who smuggled beer into the Tiger Reserve. The B and B ended up being a lot of fun, Simon, the owner, is a great guy tho, um, there might be some problems on the domestic harmony front I gather, plus he announced he was “going on the wagon” so I ended up hosting a dinner or two, lots of laughs with Brits from all over. At the communal breakfast one morning we were joined by a rogue ish looking type from Glasgow who had just got out of jail and had his passport confiscated by the Government so is Stateless. Happens a lot it seems, the passport confiscating, and the random twenty four hours to leave the country. The beaches of South Goa are worth the trip alone, very quiet, warm Arabian Sea, sand, beach shacks serving food and booze incredibly cheaply compared with other parts I have visited. But guess what, the Russians are taking over. In North Goa they have completely taken over two beaches and exclude any other Nationalities, they are setting up protection rackets with beach vendors and bars, even market stalls. This is having some affect on the flow of tourists, especially from the UK, who now steer clear of North Goa, preferring the South.
I had planned to leave on Monday, but alas no Internet all day so stayed an extra night in another tent, got up early Tuesday, booked everything and caught a noon flight to New Delhi. The aforementioned catapult. Even at the airport it was a maelstrom, I prepaid for a taxi but no one knew where my hotel was, least of all me. I lined up at taxi rank number five and showed my piece of paper to endless taxi drivers who just shrugged and rode off with the people behind me in the line. Oh this is great I thought the hick from the sticks, can’t even get out of the ……… airport. Eventually someone behind me in the queue took pity and told a driver what district to go to, off we went. Hair raising wasn’t in it. The Government has built a vast Metro complex throughout the city so negotiating the support pillars was a challenge, roundabouts, traffic signals, traffic cops,, all tried to cope with the vast surge of vehicles, mostly to no avail. Grid lock broke out constantly. Squeezing through the alleys, constantly asking directions we eventually found it. Oh dear. My hotel, the Magnificent Palms, was a dump. Another dump. However I was on a mission, to get my camera fixed so off to the Canon Repair shop bright and early. They said they would see what they could do, in twenty four hours. Hmm. What to do, what to do. I took a train ride. I enjoyed it. Returned to Canon shop the next day and they wanted to charge me the price of the camera to fix it and it would take forty eight hours and, they pointed out, it is still under warranty in the US. Well, no brainer, took camera and left. Now what? A six hour train to Jaipur, an eight hour bus ride? It was two o’clock and i was exhausted. Nope, I will splurge and fly. Spotted a travel agency across the street, took life in hands and crossed eight lanes of traffic, shades of HCMC, survived, and booked flight and hotel in Jaipur. I took the new Metro out of the City, oh gosh, oh wow. Absolutely state of the art, security fell about laughing at my gadget jacket, took everything out and stared incredulously at all the contents. It reminded me of a cross between San Fran’s BART and that new London underground line. Ultra swish, chrome and flashing lights, it even had a progress bar (vital to computer nerds) showing our position. The announcements included “mind the gap”, a direct crib from London’s tube, if you are not familiar with that you may have seen it on a t shirt.
Terminal three at Delhi Airport is a real treat, voted second best in the World it it is a wonder of modern architecture. I was in awe. (as an aside, I just received a comment that I take too many photos of buildings!). I think I gaped, stood still, talked to myself, took pictures, enjoyed it. Off to gate seventy two, that is 72, and still it went on after that. The announcement at the end of the moving sidewalk said “feed the hungry and watch your step” which I think is noteworthy. Off in a little plane for the forty five minute flight, time for the first few sentences above and then we were down again. A first for everything and on disembarking the plane we had to show our boarding passes. Here I are in Rajasthan, it’s a bit like what I expected, history at every turn, fantastically dressed people, bright clothing, sandy crags in the background, hill forts on the crests, dust, food smells, camels, elephants (poor things), begging children, Holy men, oh, and for the first time more people on the roofs of buses than within. Turbaned, bearded tribesmen from the distant mountains, looking fierce, and , well, a bit romantic. Oh no, my hotel is another dump, dammit. It’s a Best Western, really it is, with a revolving restaurant on top, it’s hell. Hailed a tuk tuk to dinner in a Haveli, a spruced up old Palace, terribly tasteful, lawns, trees, peace and tranquility, good food, pleasant people. I vowed to move hotels, and I did. Woke up at dawn and took a tuk tuk (!) up a hillside to the Amber Fort. If one could ignore the crowds, the affluent ones in an elephant procession up the mountain, the hustlers, the noise and dirt it was absolutely marvelous. It is huge and dominates the skyline with fantastic walls, think China, minor forts along the way, landscaped lush gardens, fountains, the harem area with it’s latticed windows, it was worth the early start. An Ali Baba type experience. Back to the horrible Best Western, checked out and am now on the Terrace of another Haveli, writing this, tea brought round, there is a pool, it adjoins the walls of the old city and is half the price of the horrible Best Western, go figure.
I am off to explore, will add photos later so check back.
Thanks.

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The quiet roads of Goa.

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The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming. A menu in a beach shack.

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Just a tiny corner of Delhi. Bad Craziness. Taken while waiting my turn in the mobile phone shop.

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India Gate, New Delhi. Taken from high speed tuk tuk.

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The slums of New Delhi went on for miles and miles. I never could have imagined.

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Metro train to Airport.

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Terminal Three, New Delhi Airport ! No, I didn’t include it just to annoy you.

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Amber Fort/Amber Palace, Jaipur.

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The Ganesh Gate.

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The view from “Purdah”.

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Deep in the Palace there was this. Incredible.

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This looks quite nice, perhaps out of my price range.

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Jaipur, also known as The Pink City.

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Colorful ladies abound.