Barry McKnight and Roger Cowland return to London after an absence of 21 years.
The year was 1988. Roger had been away from his London home for 21 years and a visit to see his family was long overdue. His dad had died in 1986 and his mother was now 82 but still in very good health. She was a lovely lady and I wanted to see her too before she passed on. We chose Qantas to take us there, but decided to have a stop over in Greece first for two weeks. Greece, with its fascinating historical past, was one country that I had always wanted to visit. Like Italy, I had read many books about its past, and looked forward to seeing the places that I had read about. We had planned to have a week in Athens and another week travelling through the Cyclades group of islands in the Aegean Sea. As we would be doing a lot of travelling it was decided that we would limit our luggage to one, easy to carry bag each, and one cabin bag, so a lot of thought had to go into carrying just what we needed. It was summer in Europe so we would not require much in the way of clothes in Greece: just shorts and tee shirts, but London, however, could be quite cold and would require some warmer clothing. When the taxi arrived to take us to the airport we grabbed our bags, slung cameras over our shoulders, locked the front door, and left. We were looking forward to the flight as it was in one of the, then fairly new, Boeing 747s. The flight was in two parts: Sydney to Singapore, then Singapore to Athens. As we landed at Changi Airport the Qantas Captain announced that they had just made a hands off landing, and that the huge aircraft had actually landed itself. He then went on to tell us that Changi Airport had all the equipment that made this possible. We all applauded his announcement and the aeroplane’s wonderful achievement, but I was pleased that he made the announcement after we landed and not before as I still preferred the old fashioned way of landing with human hands on the steering wheel. As we had over an hour before we departed again we were allowed off the plane for a walk around the terminal building. It seemed strange to be walking around the new ultra modern Changi Airport, when to me, and a lot of other Australians, that name is synonymous with unbelievable suffering and death when it was the site of a Japanese prison camp during World War 2. Now it was the site of Singapore’s new airport, and we were in Terminal 1, the first of four terminals to be built. At 1a.m. in the morning there were not many other people about so we were able to have a good look around, then have a cup of coffee before we reboarded the aircraft again. The flying time to Athens was around 12 hours. It was a very good flight, very smooth, and, as I had a window seat, I gazed down at the clumps of lights below as we made our way through the night sky above Asia then Europe. When we landed in Athens airport it was still night and we appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. I hoped that it was not an error made by the plane landing itself again. However the cabin crew opened the doors and we were told that there would be a bus waiting to take us to the terminal building, some distance away. From the ultra modern Changi Airport, we now appeared to be in the Third World. Getting through customs was similar to Denpasar Airport in Bali with long queues and endless waiting, with bored officials stamping things. It was to be a night of waiting, however, because it was still the early hours of the morning in Athens and when the taxi delivered us to our hotel we had to wait until the day staff arrived to get into our room. However, one thing that we had learnt during our travels is that patience is definitely a virtue, so we just sat there and waited. It was no good reading any of the magazines on offer as they were all in Greek and any communication with the staff members on duty faced the same problem. Unlike Bali where most of the local people could speak a little English, here in Greece it seemed not to be the case. When the day staff finally arrived and our room was sorted out we dumped our things on the floor and caught up on some missed sleep.
Our hotel was the Hermes Hotel in the heart of the city in a district known as the Plaka, and we were pleased to discover that it was handy to everything. The Acropolis was on the hill above us, and only a six minute walk away, as were many other historic sights. The area abounded in restaurants and the subway was only a five minute walk away. We knew that it was the custom to dump on Athens and call it all kinds of derogatory names, but to us it appeared quite wonderful. Perhaps other tourists did not like it because it wasn’t modernised, but that of course was part of its charm. We were just around the corner from Monastiraki and its busy markets, Syntagma Square was a short distance away and of course towering over it all was the Acropolis with its magnificent Parthenon. That first afternoon we walked about everywhere until our bodies said enough! So we then found a nice restaurant with tables set in an alley off the main thoroughfare and ordered beers to refresh us while we studied the menu. There were many interesting items to choose from, but we chose the Mousaka, a traditional Greek dish with lamb mince, spices and eggplant with a cheesy custard on top. It came with a Greek Salad and crusty bread rolls. We ate it with a nice bottle of red wine and found it to be a very tasty meal. The service was efficient and relaxed, and the area had a real atmosphere that couldn’t be found anywhere else. We were so impressed that we ate there every night afterwards. On the way back to the hotel through the busy markets, below the brightly lit Acropolis, we looked at everything until we finally reached our room and collapsed on our beds. We had been on the go for 48 hours or more, with only a couple of hours sleep, so it was time to do some catching up. Next morning, after quick showers, we hurried down rather late for our buffet breakfast hoping that it was still being served. Fortunately it was still laid out so we were able to help ourselves. It was not the traditional English breakfast that we had been used to, but it did have cereals, cheeses, bread rolls, boiled eggs and lots of olives. We had no problem with any of those so we were able to refuel ourselves, with a booster of good strong Greek coffee, before we went on our way to explore the three thousand year old city. The sky was a brilliant blue and the temperature pleasantly warm as we gazed up at the Acropolis on the hill above us. There was no argument about where to go first. It was quite easy to walk there from where we were and soon we had joined the other tourists gazing in awe at the Parthenon, the grandest and one of the oldest buildings in the world. It was built sometime in the fifth century B.C. and severely damaged in 1697 during the Morean war. Apparently it was being used for the storage of gunpowder at the time, and was hit by a cannon ball, otherwise we would be viewing it as it was originally: an awesome thought. In some areas work was under way to halt its decay and repair damage, so it could still be seen well into the future. Other buildings in the area were just as fascinating, while below were two theatres with tiered seating with one, the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, still being used as a theatre today. Also at the base of the Acropolis was the ancient market place called the Agora. It had the classical lines of the Parthenon on the hill above, and was in better condition. Besides being a market place when it was built, it was also used as a forum where people met to discuss things. It is said that this is where Democracy was born. One could say that we walked in the steps of Socrates: another awesome thought!. The next few days were spent in sightseeing. We found the underground very handy for travelling, and it enabled us to get about on our own without having to take any guided tours. The weather was perfect and after all the wandering about during the day, we sat under the stars at our favourite restaurant in the Plaka, knocked off a few cold beers, then had a delightful meal. We loved strolling around the shops and markets afterwards, mixing with people from all over the world, and viewing the amazing amount of goods on sale. Whoever said that Athens is a dump obviously didn’t spend any time there. For our last day we found our way to Lykavitos Hill, which is a large hill, or chunk of rock that offers full 360 degree views of Athens from its summit. Seen from beneath a clear blue sky the views were breathtaking.
Near the end of our visit to Athens, we booked our passages to Mykonos, the first of the Cyclades Islands that we wished to visit. Getting to the port of Piraeus couldn’t have been more simpler because it was just a few stops away on the subway. As we sailed out of the harbour beneath a clear blue sky the sunlight danced across the ripples in the ship’s wake. The completely calm sea appeared to be an incredible clear azure blue and soon we began passing small islands with ancient ruins perched on their cliff tops. The homes of Jason and his Argonauts I thought in jest.. As if to underline the incredible atmosphere of our voyage, while exploring the ship, I recognised the unmistakeable sound of a bouzouki playing somewhere. We quickly found its source and discovered a small group of musicians playing traditional Greek folk music. They had a bouzouki, an accordion and a guitar. “How much better can this get!” I thought. Here we are sailing through this picture book perfect world and we even have music to set the right atmosphere. Apparently they were a group of musicians that had been booked in for one of the islands and they were rehearsing their numbers. When they played the theme from “Zorba the Greek”, I was hoping someone would get up and dance, but as the passengers all seemed to be tourists, no one did. The first island that we called in to was Tinos. We looked at it and said “Where are the trees?”. The island seemed to be quite bare, with a cluster of mostly white buildings around the waterfront. As we approached Mykonos we observed the same thing. “They would not have to worry about bushfires here” we joked. As we sailed into Mykonos harbour it was like entering a scene from a travel brochure. The harbour itself was picture postcard perfect with a line of whitewashed buildings circling its waterfront, while above the small town was the line of windmills so often seen in promotional pictures. Some friends of ours had been to Mykonos before and told us to select accommodation when we arrived as the boats were always met by people offering all kinds of accommodation and we could select what we wanted and bargain for a good price. As we left the ship, sure enough there were people holding up signs everywhere. It was a bit confronting, and confusing as we had no idea of the layout of the area. We chose a place that offered us a large room with shared facilities close to the Chora (town). What they didn’t mention was that one would require the skills of a mountain climber to negotiate the steep “pathway” to the town below. We spent one night there, then grabbed our bags and caught the bus into town to try again when the ferry arrived. It would have been nice to get a place in the town centre, but as Mykonos was known as the “party island” noisy revelers would be wandering about its narrow streets at all hours of the night. This time we ended up in a Villa, called the Villa Vassilas, just out of town. It was up on the side of a hill and a walkable distance from the Chora, or just a short bus ride. We had a fully self contained unit with a dining area that looked across the Aegean Sea to the setting sun in the evenings. Sometimes we ate in the unit, and other times strolled into the Chora for a drink and a meal there. However, as pretty as the Chora was with its white washed buildings, blue window shutters and red bougainvillea draped everywhere, it can be very frustrating for tourists. The village was purposefully built as a labyrinth with narrow winding streets to confuse the invading pirates of the 16th century. Now they are still doing what they were designed to do, only this time they are confusing the tourists. Don’t expect to be able to find a shop that you went to the day before, because the chances are that you won’t. Until you become familiar with the maze like streets you can expect quite a few frustrated excursions. However the BIG plus for the streets of Mykonos is that there are no motor cars to worry about. It is a shopper’s paradise in a way because you are not dodging cars all the time or waiting for traffic lights to change. The first time eating out was a bit of a disappointment for we ordered Mousaka expecting the real deal like in Athens, but in this tourist centre all we got was a type of Shepherd’s Pie which was obviously designed for all the English tourists. As we were beach enthusiasts we were pleased to find out that the bus route at the bottom of our street took us directly to the island’s famous beaches. The bus terminated at Plati Yialos, which was a little village with a nice beach and a small harbour. However, we had been told that the best beaches were further on around the coast, and that they could be reached via a boat ride to Paraga.
After jumping off the boat at Paraga it was a short walk to Paradise Beach, then further along was Super Paradise. Now what was the difference between the two beaches you may ask? How could one be a “Paradise”, which is the ultimate in pleasurable delights in itself, but the other was an even better being prefixed by the word “Super”! Well, as it turned out “Paradise” was for the people who are mainly into wearing clothing while swimming, and the “Super” one is for those who mostly prefer not to. We tried the ordinary Paradise first and found it to be a very nice safe beach with golden sand and beautiful clear calm warm water. Later on we walked across the headland to its less inhibited neighbour. It had the same sand and clear blue water but the people lying on the beach were less concerned about hiding their bodies. There was probably a 50/50 mix between clothed and unclothed. We quickly joined the less inhibited ones and discarded everything then raced into the water again. The water was calm and clear and perfect for swimming in. I was so overwhelmed with the natural beauty of the place that I decided to do something that I had never done before; a long distance swim. I walked around the headland to the start of the bay and looked back to the beach, almost a kilometre away, then dived into the water. It was very welcoming and I felt absolutely at ease in it so I began swimming to the distant shore. I don’t know how long it took, but when I eventually reached the shore, Roger was so engrossed in his book that he didn’t really know that I was gone. Our days were spent relaxing on the beach or wandering about the Chora taking photos. Mykonos must be one of the most photogenic place on the Earth. It was particularly interesting wandering about the place at night and seeing all the trendy crowd wearing the latest fashions, which contrasted with the elderly Greek women who stuck to their traditional all black Greek clothing. Another interesting point was that our visit to Mykonos coincided with the summer Olympic Games in Seoul. Needless to say a large proportion of the beachgoers at Super Paradise were gay, and the gays never missed an excuse to have a party. We were both lying on the sand reading on the second day, when I looked up and noticed a strange looking person running down the path to the beach carrying what appeared to be a flaming torch. All the beach crowd cheered as he ran on to the beach where he was given a speech of welcome by an “official”. After the speech a group of men dressed as ladies sang and danced and the official announced “Let the Games begin!”. Roger asked a person nearby what was going on and he replied that they were having their own version of the Olympic Games now on in Seoul. We did not even know that they were happening. What occurred next was their own bizarre version of the Olympic Games with various competitive events held on the beach. Sometimes through it all rode a local Greek lady on a donkey. She was going off to do her shopping I guess. Needless to say we got very little reading done for the rest of the time we were there.
As Mykonos was very near the sacred island of Delos we took a boat across and spent the day there. Both islands feature prominently in the mythology and religion of Greece. Mykonos was thought to have been named after its first ruler, a local hero named Mykons who was considered to be the son, or grandson, of the God Apollo. The island is also supposed to be the site of the great battle between Zeus and the fearful Titans. If all that wasn’t enough it is also said to be the place where Hercules slew the Giants whose petrified remains are the large rocks scattered all over Mykonos. It sounds like the place never had a dull moment. Delos, on the other hand is considered to be a Sacred Island because it is the birthplace of Apollo and Artemis, both very important in the Godly order of things. As the island has been inhabited since the third millennium B.C. it makes Delos one of the most important mythological, historical and archaeological sites in all of Greece, and is a rich source of ancient artifacts. Even today the island is considered sacred and no one is allowed to give birth there or to die there, at least that is what our shipboard guide told us. Whatever the facts, Delos was certainly a fascinating island to visit. It must have once been an extremely grand and beautiful place, judging it by what was left of its architecture. What we see today are just the remains of their grand buildings, huge statues, elaborate fountains and massive temples, but they are still impressive. Many places still had floor mosaics that had been there for over two thousand years. We even walked down a three thousand year old street. Awesome! However, it would not be a good place for today’s feminists to visit for the ancient Greeks worshipped things male, and in one part of Delos there is a pair of statures of giant penises. An aggressive feminist’s worst nightmare! I guess they could take some comfort in the fact that they are only half there as the top halves have broken away. We sailed back to Mykonos with the sun setting in a glorious blaze of colour across the sea. Tomorrow we catch the ferry to our next stop: the island of Paros.
This island of Paros was very different from Mykonos. It was much larger, greener and certainly much less cramped with wider streets, and only a few of the tiny alleyways that Mykonos had. It also had a hinterland with many trees and other towns. We got accommodation just a short walk from the town centre and set out exploring the place. It had no beach in the actual town, which was called Parikia, but we discovered that there were a couple of beaches just a short boat ride away. We grabbed our books etc, and jumped on a boat that took us around the bay to the opposite side where there were two small beaches. One was more secluded than the other so we went there, passing a blue domed church along the way. Again the water was clear and refreshing. We stayed a couple of hours, with me exploring the headland where there were some ancient ruins that had once been a house or something. Dining in the town that night, at a very nice outdoor restaurant, we thought we would try something called “Mezze” for starters. It turned out to be a serving dish with lots of tasty things to eat, including stuffed vine leaves which were very good, things in filo pastry and small meat balls with a dip. So caught up were we with things Greek, we decided to try Ouzo with our main meal. The meal was very nice, but the Ouzo wasn’t! It was like drinking raw alcohol; not that I have ever done so! It was what I imagine pure alcohol would taste like. The next day we had a tour through the centre of the island to visit the town of Lefkes. It was an attractive inland town which is noted for its marble church. It appears that Paros once had many marble mines and that the name of Paros comes from the word Parian, which was used to describe the fine white marble that was once mined there. It therefore played an important role in producing the sculptured works of art that ancient Greece is noted for. On the way to the coast we halted at another town called Prodomos. It is built on a hill and is known as a fortified town because the outside walls of all houses in the perimeter, form walls that would protect the village from pirates and other intruders. I thought that was a very clever idea and it must have been very frustrating for the invaders. Our last town to visit was the port of Naoussa on the north eastern side of the island. It was essentially a fishing port with nets and squid hanging about drying in the sun. At one end of the harbour are the remains of a Venetian fort dating back as far as the 15th Century. Again this was to protect its residents from marauding pirates and other unwelcome visitors. After another couple of days relaxing in Paros, we caught the inter island ferry to one of the world’s most fascinating islands; Santorini…
It would have been a nice relaxing cruise to the famous island, but a group of drunken Aussies saw to it that the passengers were constantly irritated by their behaviour. We had seen it all before in Bali. There they walked about the streets, wearing only shorts, but always with a stubby of beer glued to their hands as they shouted loudly and insulted the local people. It was the same on the open deck here. When they succeeded in damaging something on the boat they received a warning from the Captain. If I was the captain I would have thrown the lot overboard! The ship called in at the islands of Naxos and Ios to drop off and pick up more passengers. Unfortunately the drunken Aussies were going to Santorini. It was interesting seeing the other islands, and their similarity to Mykonos with their bare hills and whitewashed buildings clustered around the waterfront. Santorini, on the other hand, is all that remains after a violent volcanic eruption in the second millennium BC blew out the centre of the island and all the inhabitants living on it. We sailed into what would be the caldera of the volcano to the port of Athinos. Here again we were met by offers of accommodation and chose something just out of the town of Fira, but still within walking distance. Our room was nice enough but we had one complaint. All the corridors had marble floors that made quite a noise when people wearing hard shoes or high heels walked on them. Exploring Fira we discovered some spectacular scenes as a lot of the town was built down the cliff side of the caldera. There were no streets as such, just narrow walkways that linked the various levels. We wondered at the foundations of these buildings clinging so precariously to the side of the caldera, but it seems that the secret is to dig backwards into the pumice rock which is quite hard. It is also a good insulator so that a home built into it is cool in summer and warm in winter. Sunset time is quite spectacular with the setting sun reflected in the waters of the caldera giving the almost vertical village a golden glow. Fira itself is all narrow streets with little shops, bars and restaurants tucked away everywhere. Crowds of people from all over the world wander about these streets looking about or bargaining with the local shopkeepers for various items. After the breath taking sunset we found a nice tavern and sat down and had a few beers. Fortunately it was free of the drunken Aussies. All the restaurants were very busy, but we managed to find one that had a spare table. We were heavily involved in a discussion when it was interrupted by a loud female voice calling out “Okay you guys, what would you like?” We looked up and saw a rather tall waitress lady looking at us with a large smile. As access to our table was a bit blocked by too many chairs she had chosen to call from the closest unblocked space. We both looked up startled, then Roger called back loudly “Mezzes for two!” She waved and then disappeared. No one else looked up so one could assume that it is common here to shout one’s order across the room. I hoped that when she returned with our Mezzes she would not have to throw them one by one for us to catch. It was not to be the case however as our entire meal was delivered by conventional means and it was very nice indeed. We walked back to our hotel through the fascinating streets of Fira then down the main road a short distance to our hotel. The next day we thought we would check out one of the beaches. We had been warned not to expect the golden sands of Mykonos, so when we alighted from the bus at Perissa and walked to the beach, we were not surprised to see that it was entirely black. It was not very pleasant to walk on as it appeared to be composed of ground up pumice stone and was very hard on the bare feet. We had a swim, but Roger decided that, having to lie on the hard pumice sand with a strong wind blowing, was too uncomfortable and left. He caught the bus back and decided to explore the nearby town of Messaria, not far from our hotel. It was a mixture of old ruins and typical Cycladic architecture. The next day we travelled well and truly back into the past when we visited the excavation site at Akrotiri. Evidence of the buried village came to light in the mid 19th century, but excavations were not begun until 1967. The entire site is now enclosed to protect it from the weather, and to protect the priceless artefacts that have been unearthed. The first habitation of the site has been dated as far back as the 4th Millennium B.C. when it was part of the Minoan civilisation. The great Minoan empire spread across the Aegean islands and was thought to have been wiped out with the eruption of the Santorini volcano which sent enormous tidal waves across the Aegean Sea and gave rise to the story of the lost city of Atlantis. At the excavation site we could see that the village had streets with two story houses. It also had a drainage system and the people made pottery. They were very much into decorating the walls of the houses with frescos too, which incredibly have survived the ravages of time and can be clearly seen today in the Athen’s Archaeological Museum. It was quite an awesome feeling again to be gazing at a village that could be thousands of years old.
After Santorini it was back to Athens on the ferry for our next hop to London. The ship called in at the Islands of Ios, Naxos, Paros and Siros, which was a grand finish to our tour of the islands of the Cyclades. Naxos is the largest island in the group, but Siros is certainly the most impressive. As we sailed into the harbour there we saw a very large city spread out on the hills above the port. Apparently it is actually two cities combined as they were each built on opposite hills, but over time they have grown and merged into one. The right hand side is called Ermoupoli and is the capital, while the left one is known as Ano Syros. Each is dominated by a large cathedral sitting on the top. Above Ano Syros is the 13th century Cathedral of Saint George, and above Ermoupoli is the blue domed Orthodox Cathedral. Within the cities the various levels are reached by narrow stairways made of marble. As beautiful and peaceful as the islands of the Cyclades are now, it was not always the case as they were invaded many times throughout their history. During the middle ages the islands suffered frequently with invasions by the Sicilians, Arabs, Turks and Venetians. Today the only invaders are the tourists from the world over who come to bask in their beauty.
We had a couple of days in Athens for a final look around, and to shop for a few gifts, then caught a flight to London. The skies over Europe were quite clear and gave one an incredible view from the window. I was particularly fascinated with the fact that I could gaze out the window and see other planes below us coming and going. It gave real meaning to the phrase “crowded skies”. However, our pilot successfully manoeuvred us through it all and we landed at Heathrow some time in the afternoon. Roger’s sister Doris, and son Philip were there to meet us and drive us to their mother’s house in Hendon where we would be staying. It was great to see them again. We had seen Philip a few years earlier when he and friend Martin had travelled to Australia, but we had not seen the rest of the family since we left for Canada in 1967. His Mum was now 82, but in good health and as bright as always. It was a grand and emotional re-union for everyone and the next few days were spent looking up other members of Roger’s family, and old friends. We gave our selves a week in London, but after the few weeks in glorious Greece with absolutely perfect warm sunny weather, we found the sudden cold and drizzle of London rather depressing. It was also a little sad to find Humphries Film Laboratories, the place that had brought us all together in the 60’s, was now closed, due to the decline in the use of film. The Scala Theatre nearby, that we frequented regularly for all its wonderful live shows, was now the site of a block of apartments built after the theatre was destroyed by fire in 1969. We had earlier discussed whether a week in London would be enough, but after visiting everyone we were glad to get out of the place again. However we had a good time visiting friends and family, and certainly it was wonderful to see Roger’s Mum again. She passed away peacefully in her sleep on Christmas Eve, eight years later.
On the return journey to Australia we planned to have a week stop over in Thailand. Neither of us had been there before, so we were looking forward to it. When we took off from London the Captain announced that we would be flying a direct course to Thailand over Russia. I joked saying that we could say to people that we had been to Russia too. Maybe we would have been better visiting Moscow, because we were most unimpressed with Thailand. They assumed that two men travelling together are only there for one thing; to engage in non stop sexual activity with the ladies. It was impossible to have a drink in a bar, because we would be pestered non stop. Even when sitting at a table by ourselves trying to have a conversation a bar a girl would appear and constantly interrupt us trying to sell herself or her companions. It was a nightmare. We gave up trying to have a drink in a bar, and just brought beer back to drink on our hotel room balcony. The air was also very heavily polluted in Bangkok and made breathing unpleasant. Despite this we managed to see a few of the sights. The Royal Palace and the surrounding temples were most impressive and we had a few days at Pattaya, a beach town not far from Bangkok. Pattaya was nice enough during the day, but at night it really came to life. Here again one walked around continually repeating the word “No!”. However there was one time that we did say “Yes”, and that was when a beach hawker offered us an expandable bag for a good price. Despite all our careful planning to travel light, we now had more stuff than we left with, so an expandable bag was just the answer. At the end of our stay in Thailand, we were quite happy to board the Qantas jet to take us back to the big land Downunder. Looking at the photographs when we arrived back, we could not help noticing the difference between the elaborate, ornate architecture of Thailand, compared with the white washed simplicity of Greek Cycladic architecture. Of course their cultures were worlds apart too. Then again, the differences between cultures is really what makes traveling so interesting and informative.
