The Danube River, Germany.

When we began this cruise a week ago in Amsterdam harbour, we were two metres below sea level. Our ship began ascending as we passed through the first lock, and a week and dozens of locks later, we reached the top of the European divide, over 400 metres above where we started. The Rhine and Main Rivers flow to the west, therefore we’ve been travelling against the current. We’re now on the Danube River and travelling with the current. The locks are now lowering us down instead of lifting us up. Last night’s lock was huge, lifting this large ship by an astonishing 20 metres. We entered its damp, dark corridor, and the door behind us slowly closed. Water was pumped into our dim enclosure and we gradually rose up out of the gloom and into the sun to be greeted by a panoramic view of pasture and forests. It was an engineering spectacle. The Rhine and Danube Rivers are connected by the Main-Danube Canal, completed in the 1990s, 170 kilometres long, and crosses over the top of the European divide, connecting west with east. It enables ships to sail from the Atlantic Ocean to the Black Sea.

Regensberg.

It’s virtually impossible to travel these parts and not be confronted by the Second World War. Most of the cities we’ve visited were 90% destroyed by Allied bombing. We did see some exceptions, such as the charming little cities of Bamberg and Regensberg. Their remarkable medieval town centres are still in their original state from 800 years ago. Perhaps the most confronting off-ship excursion was at Nuremberg. Our tour guide was a young German guy who had studied history and now philosophy, and the way he explained the events that led to the start of the war was a revelation for me. His explanation talked about propaganda, deception, ignorance – and then he compared Nazi Germany with ISIS in the Middle East and North Korea. You can see history repeating itself.

 

The Nazi Congress Hall, Nuremberg.

He showed us where the Nazi Party held their rallies each year from 1933 to 1938, attracting hundreds of thousands of young Germans. These Nuremberg rallies gained momentum for Hitler’s plans for German domination of Europe, and it was eerie to stand in the very spot where the Fuhrer actually addressed his fanatics. Just across the way was the Congress Hall, its red brick façade reflected in a thousand-year-old man-made lake. This building is one of the few remaining examples of Nazi architecture. Its design was based on the Colosseum in Rome but much larger and imposing. The war interrupted its construction and it was never completed. We saw the Grand Road, several kilometres long, where Hitler wanted to parade his troops. There were never any parades, and it’s now used as a pedestrian mall for markets and beer festivals.

The "Blue" Danube.

As we prepare to sail into Austria, Germany has been beautiful to us over the past week. Its people are beautiful, we have felt amongst friends. The history - ancient, medieval and recent - is astonishing. The countryside is green, the forests are a different shade of green, and everywhere you look there is something to see. This is a country that’s beckoning us back.

The Main River, Germany

A few days into the 15-day cruise and we’re feeling a combination of contemplative relaxation and intense excitement. A daily routine has quickly developed – a comfortable sleep, a delicious breakfast, an intriguing excursion to a unique European city, an equally delicious evening meal with wine, and finish the day with a party and a nightcap. The very first thing to do in the morning is to open the curtains and lie in bed watching the ever-changing scenery. It’s like a huge movie screen showing a documentary on German river life, and a commentary is not required. The only sound to be heard is the gentle ripple of the water as the ship glides silently upstream. Some of the trees are beginning to change colour, like splashes of yellow, red and orange paint on a green canvas.

Our cabin window with an ever-changing view.

 People’s homes sit proudly on the river bank as their garden finishes at the water’s edge. The inhabitants go about their daily business commuting to work, walking their dogs (there are a lot of German Shepherds), wheeling a pram, dangling a fishing line, or camping in their caravan or motorhome (we’ve seen many riverside camping grounds, and they are all well attended). Ducks, geese and swans ignore us as we float by, too interested in finding their next meal. Sometimes the trees open out to reveal rolling hills of thick forests or fields of crops, grazing animals or grass pasture. Our progress eastwards is frequently slowed by passing through several locks each day as we gradually rise to the highest point in the European water drainage divide. Towns are marked by a church spire or steeple. A commuter train rushes by. We pass under bridges that vary from the very old, made of stone, to the ultra-modern made of concrete and steel. Some are so low that the sundeck is closed and the wheelhouse is actually lowered by hydraulics to enable the ship to pass.

Our cabin television shows a bow-cam, in High Definition.

 We’ve spent a day in Cologne with its gigantic cathedral, and then passed through the spectacular Rhine Gorge, 65 kilometres of geology, history and agriculture. On the northern side are hundreds of vineyards that’ve been planted on seemingly impossible slopes. By facing south the grapes make the most of the sunshine, but it’s hard to imagine a more difficult place to plant your vines. Most of these grapes are riesling, the origin of the famous Rhine Riesling. Several castles were perched high on the cliffs above us, some in ruins while others have been restored. Dating from several hundred to a couple of thousands years old, they look down us as if granting us permission to pass. Sometimes the grassy slopes give way to sheer rock faces several hundred metres high, but there’s always a little village or town located whenever the riverbank provides the opportunity, all with very German names like Oberwesel, Kaub, Urbar or Lykershausen.

One of many castles along the Rhine Gorge - part ruins, part restored.

 We stopped in the charming little town of Rudesheim, which happens to be the hometown of our Cruise Directory Werney, and he passionately commended its features. He was absolutely right, with little bars and cafes selling locally made wine and beer in narrow streets and laneways. A delight to get lost in. Further on upstream we stopped at Milternberg and Wertheim and Wurzburg. All of these cities were destroyed during the Second World War, and it’s remarkable how much work has gone into rebuilding them.

The Amsterdam Rhine canal

I’m sitting in a plush, very well appointed hotel room. It has a comfortable bed, we’ve unpacked our cases into the generous wardrobes and drawers, and the bathroom is spacious with one of those multi-head showers that shoot water at you from all directions. An entire wall of our room is made of glass panels that open onto a balcony where we can sit and admire the view. This is where things become a little strange, for the view is changing from left to right at a constant 10 km/hr. Not more than 10 metres away is a grassy bank lined with trees beside a road with cars, trucks and bicycles, and beyond there are houses. Oops, spoke too soon – now it’s open agricultural land with cattle grazing. Now it’s changed again - there’s a factory with a tall chimney. Now there’s a ten storey office block dominating the view. More houses. The occasional fisherman has a line dangled in the canal while he sits on the grass enjoying a pleasant sunny Thursday afternoon. He gives a friendly wave. Here comes another bridge, we’ve probably passed under twenty in the last two hours.

We’ve left central Amsterdam on board the Scenic Jade, which is essentially a floating hotel at 135 metres long and 11 metres wide. We are two of 169 guests on board, and there are 43 hotel staff (that’s one for every four guests) and 7 nautical crew members. The experience began yesterday afternoon immediately after stepping out of the taxi, when a staff member met us and took our suitcases before leading us onto the ship. We didn’t see the luggage for the next hour as we were welcomed on board by several smiling, friendly people and a glass of champagne. Sitting in a palatial lounge with full floor-to-ceiling windows, we instantly began meeting fellow guests from Australia, Great Britain, Canada and the United States. We eventually checked in and were escorted to our room where we found our luggage. This must be the most salubrious hotel we’ve ever stayed in.

Sailing down the Rhine Canal heading south, we’ve said goodbye to Amsterdam, which has left an indelible mark on us. There are many construction sites around the city signalling a prosperous economy, and we have not seen any homeless or vagrant people that usually occur in big cities. There are more bikes than people in the Netherlands because commuters own at least two – one to ride to the nearest train or bus station, and another to ride to work after getting off. Consequently public transport stations always have hundreds of bikes waiting for their owners. The Dutch must be experts at water management, as 40% of the Netherlands is reclaimed land and much of it is below sea level. The clever use of dykes, canals, dams and ditches have transformed former lakes and sea frontage into viable agricultural, residential and commercial land. It’s an extraordinary country.

Only 1,820 kilometres to Budapest, but that’s still 14 days and four countries away.

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

It was only two hours flying time from Athens to Amsterdam. At least our cities are staying in the A’s. What an absolute contrast between them though. Athens was hot, sunny, dry and dusty, with three thousand year old buildings of stone, marble and concrete. Amsterdam was cool, cloudy, wet and green, with architecture from only the last three hundred years. There’s no doubt Amsterdam is a beautiful city, with parks and gardens, tree-lined avenues and graceful brick buildings no more than four stories high with steep pitched roofs and adorned with elaborate windows, shutters and facades. Many of the “streets” are canals, but unlike Venice they are wide and spacious waterways, with houseboats permanently moored and lived in at the water’s edge.

Bridges and boats - the beautiful canals of Amsterdam.

 The most striking aspect of Amsterdam for us is the bicycles. By far the most popular form of transport, we saw all ages and genders transporting themselves by pedal power. Even parents would have a child seat on the front or back of their bike. Or a basket carrying a small dog, or a box delivering a pizza. Of course, after arriving at your destination, you must park your bike somewhere, therefore car parks have given way to bike parks, and they are lined up in their thousands all over the city. Consequently, the city is wonderfully quiet and pollution free, making it an extremely pleasant place to spend time. The downside is that this creates an extra danger when crossing the road. Bikes have their own lane in each direction, so you have an extra traffic hazard to contend with when crossing the road. Bike helmets are not required. Texting while riding is quite normal. Cycling is simply a way of life in Amsterdam. 

Bikes, stacked two high, in rows of hundreds. They've gotta park somewhere.

 

Ornate houses, and houseboats.

Cannabis is legal in the Netherlands. So is gay marriage, and prostitution. Art and culture is significant to the Dutch, with dozens of museums all over Amsterdam dedicated to everything from Van Gogh or tulips to houseboats or pianos. On our final night, we were walking home after dinner and stopped to listen to a busker playing in a busy square. His name was Elias, he was from Algeria, he played an Hawaiian ukulele, and when I listened to him he was playing a Spanish song, to an Australian, in Amsterdam. We just love the multiculturallness of this city, it’s so refreshingly liberal and vibrant, and that’s after only three days of experiencing it.

But we’ve got a boat to catch.

Meteora and Athens, Greece

As the four day Classical Greece tour continued, we followed on from the amazing Delphi with a lengthy drive further north into central Greece and the area called Meteora, an astonishing region of smooth pinnacles of prehistoric rock with thousand year old monasteries built on top. The pinnacles were created millions of years ago when the valley was a lake and sedimentary rocks were formed underwater. The monasteries were built by monks that took more than 300 years to build, and the ingenuity to construct them at such impossible locations defied the imagination. I could only wonder about the resolve of a builder who would never see the completion of what he was building, neither would his children or grandchildren. Following generations would have to take on the same blind ambition. The landscape of Meteora was alien, and the devotion of these people to achieve their ultimate tribute to God was admirable.

Meteora, with one of six monasteries perching precariously on top.

The amazing rock formations of Meteora.

On the final day of our Classical tour, we were taken to an unusual restaurant for lunch. You walk through the main dining room, straight into the kitchen and get handed a plate. In the centre of the kitchen is a large stove top, as big as a kitchen bench, and on top are several large open-top cooking vessels. There are beef meatballs in tomato sauce, and a chicken stew, and pork swimming in olive oil, and pots of vegetables such as peas, beans and potatoes – all hot and simmering from the oil-fired hot plates. Standing over these pots is the cook, boss of the kitchen and matriarch of this family business. Everyone calls her “Mama” and she is in her 70s. She asks you what you’d like, you point, she serves, you take your plate into the restaurant, and indulge in the most delicious home-cooked meal you’ve had in ages. It was so good that Anne took advantage of a quiet moment when the kitchen was empty to go in and complement Mama on the meal. I could see them talking from our table, and even though Anne couldn’t speak Greek and Mama couldn’t speak English, the conversation went on for minutes. It concluded with the universal gesture of friendship amongst all peoples – a hug.

Mama at work in her kitchen.

 We returned to Athens for a couple of nights to finish our two weeks in Greece. By finally ascending the hill called The Acropolis and walk around the Parthenon was another life-long goal ticked off the list. The Acropolis climb may not have been as tough as Delphi, but we did have to manoeuvre our way through crowds of people. There must be thousands of tourists on the Acropolis at any one time, each one paying 20 Euros for the privilege. That’s a lot of money to contribute to the restoration of this awesome archaeological site, and we saw evidence of restoration in many forms – new slabs of white marble, cranes to lift multi-tonne stones into place, and modern-day white marble expertly blended into two thousand year old marble. All of these ancient sites in Greece are UNESCO Heritage Listed, and the reasoning behind this makes sense to us now, having seeing them for real  – “the outstanding universal value of a cultural or natural property which deserves protection for the benefit of all humanity … have an impact on the progress of civilisation”.

The Parthenon,sitting atop The Acropolis.

 As we prepared to leave Greece after two weeks, we had fallen in love with everything that makes this country so very Greek. The culture is unique and yet very European – friendly, multicultural, delicious food and wine, compassionate and patriotic, but at the same time stubbornly annoying with smoking, graffiti, litter and chaotic traffic. There may be dissent in the local population with austerity measures imposed by the government and the need to be propped up by neighbouring European countries, but we did not get any sense of this when talking to the locals. They just get on with enjoying life and being Greek.

Site of the 1896 and 2004 Olympic Games, in Athens.

Olympia and Delphi, Greece

Next item on the Classical Greece tour agenda was the origin of the Olympic Games. Olympia in the west of Peloponnes has always been one of those places that we’ve always wanted to see, an intriguing and historical city of immense importance to the last century as well as in classical times. The Olympic Games were held at this very place every four years between 8^th century BC and 4^th Century AD. Since 1934 it’s now where the flame is ignited by shining the sun into a parabolic mirror to light a torch and send the Olympic Flame on its way to the host city. It was quite moving to stand beside that very stone where this occurs.

The middle stone here is where the Olympic Flame is lit, every four years.

The site itself covers a large area with mostly foundations in the ground and several columns standing on pedestals, while some structures have been restored and reconstructed. As we walked the streets, it was easy to imagine people living, training and competing here. It was exciting to enter the very first Olympic stadium by walking down a stone corridor, pass under a stone archway and see the wide grassed field flanked on all sides by gently sloping ground for spectators. The judges’ box is still there, seats made of stone situated midway up the athletics track. Perhaps it’s not until you go through the museum that you realise just what you’ve experienced outside, for it is in this building that you’ll see the statues and artefacts that have been found around the site. It really 

We made an early start, arriving at the site at the opening time of 9am, but so did several other people. In fact, several thousand other people. Our tour guide called it “a human river”. More like a flood of tourists. I guess we were a small tributary that contributed to that flood, but it should’ve been very profitable to the site as every one of these people had paid a 12 Euro entry fee.

A typical street in current-day Olympia.

Site of the very first Olympic Games, over two thousand years ago.

After lunch we left the Peloponnes Island by crossing the amazing Rio-Antirrio Bridge to get back onto the Greek mainland. Heading north-east, some very serious mountains were in our way, and we simply drove over them. Our bus climbed a zig-zag road up the side of Mt Parnassus, one of the highest mountains in Greece, to deliver us to our hotel for the night in the mountainside village of Delphi. The view from our hotel window was hard to comprehend. A wide flat valley floor below us was a few kilometres across and covered in millions of olive trees, originally planted in the early 1200s, making them over 800 years old and still producing - quite astonishing. At either side of the valley floor sprung an immense mountain range, with the town of Itea on a bay of blue water in the distance.

Delphi, with dramatic mountains in the background.

Just along the side of the mountain were the ruins of Ancient Delphi. As we climbed up the steep pathways though the sanctuary, with a panoramic view to the south, we couldn’t help wondering why this site had been chosen to build a city in the first place. Legend says the reason is that the god Zeus told them to. The more we learned about Delphi, the more blurred were the lines between fact and legend, and the most mystical was the story of the Oracle. It was supposedly a woman who would enter a trance and utter strange sayings. Priests would decipher these ravings and turn them into prophecies. It’s the stuff of legend, and yet walking these ruins made the legend all the more real.

Dramatic Delphi - foreground and background are truly incredible. 

Despite a couple of sore knees, Anne was determined to walk to the top of these ruins, which was marked by an astonishing stadium. While the climb was arduous with stairs, gravel paths and slippery smooth rocks, we slowly scrambled ever-upwards in mid-30 degree heat. Very proud to say that she made it. Coming down was even slower, but the lure of a comfy air-conditioned bus was a good incentive.

The stadium at the top of the Delphi mountainside.

Peloponnese, Greece

After a wonderful week on Planet Naxos, we came back to earth with a thud by arriving on the Greek mainland. Indeed, it’s as though we’ve arrived on another world. Dense traffic, hoards of people, and intense heat as the blazing sun reflects off stone and concrete. Our hotel was near the Plaka, which is a pedestrian mall of shops, restaurants and bars several kilometres long, and only recently beautified for the 2004 Athens Olympics. Only two minutes’ walk from our hotel, we could look up at the Acropolis with the famous Parthenon sitting on top, looking down over Athens like an omnipresent deity. There were only a few places in Athens that we visited while riding on a hop-on hop-off bus where the Parthenon could not be seen.

What's left of The Temple of Olympian Zeus, AD 131, in Athens. The column was blown down in a gale in 1852.

Two things quickly made an impression on us. Firstly, the graffiti. It seems that every available wall space in the city has been daubed with spray paint. Sometimes colourful, artful and pictorial, but usually just black scribble. Our taxi driver told us that it’s actually not illegal to write on Athens’ city walls. Very strange, and such a shame as it creates an ugly perspective for the city. Secondly, streetscapes are often interrupted by a fenced off area to quarantine an excavated piece of archaeology. When you stop to consider that those foundations or that wall or arch is over twenty centuries old, you realise that this is a very special place. It must be impossible to dig anywhere in Athens without exposing some kind of ancient artefact. People have been building homes and temples here for thousands of years. Our taxi driver told us that if a current building project exposes any archaeology in the ground, it must be reported to the Government, who will then confiscate the property and grant you land somewhere else. Consequently, you’ll find a lot of foundations will be dug and poured at night to avoid detection.

 

The two extremes of Athens - graffiti and ancient ruins, side-by-side.

Narrow streets of the Plaka, thriving with nightlife.

We’re now half-way through a four-day tour around the southern part of Greece that focusses on ancient Greece a few centuries BC. Driving across Pellepones, the large island to the west of Athens, we were surrounded by mountains covered in bare rock and sparse low bushes. The escarpments seem to have character, as if the rocks are speaking, telling us of the eons they’ve been looking down over this valley. Mountains can be seen in the distance, with each range having a different hue the further away it is. Occasional farm houses identify a rural property, usually surrounded by olive trees. There is no commercial cropping or grazing, there are only small plots of vegetables, orchards or vines, and the infrequent goats, cows, horses or chickens. There are many wind farms and banks of solar panels – there is plenty of wind and sun here to contribute energy to the grid.

the Theatre of Epidauros

The first historic site for us was the Theatre of Epidauros, a fantastically well preserved structure that still holds festival music and theatre after two thousand years. Built in the 3^rd century BC and seating 14,000 people, it still has amazing acoustics, and voices seem to carry around the amphitheatre, even heard from the highest seat. Then onto the ancient civilisation of Mycenae, and their famous citadel near Nafplion. We’re now going back 16 centuries BC, and our entrance was through a front gate constructed of massive stones with two carved lions overhead. It was a dramatic introduction to this hillside ancient city of remnant foundations. Nearby was the Treasury of Atreus, a massive tomb made by filing down stone blocks to create a smooth interior dome. The forty metre entry corridor was just jaw-dropping.

Above and below: the Treasury of Atreus.

Just a small part of the great city of Mycenae.

The Aegean Sea

We are sitting on the ferry having just left Naxos, and settling in for the five-hour journey back to mainland Greece where we have a taxi booked to take us to Athens. We are both quite emotional. We have stayed in many hotels around Australia and the world, but we’ve never felt like this on leaving any one of them before. We are sad because it feels like we have just said goodbye to dear friends and we don’t know when we are going to see them again. Some of life’s relationships can be personal and rewarding, but we’ve only been on Naxos for six days. The people we’ve met at the Hotel Grotta in that time have made those six days extraordinary.

Dimitri Lianos is the middle-aged hotel manager, a tall man with dark features and a charming smile. He makes his own wine and doesn’t bother bottling it – he keeps it in a tank and dispenses it to his hotel guests in generous glasses. We were greeted by such a glass on our arrival, even though it was nearly midnight. Over the week we’ve had several more.

His sister Nicoletta is pivotal to the everyday operation of the hotel, and she radiates happiness and fun. The first time you meet her, she instantly warms your heart with a smile, a hug and a reassurance that you are amongst friends. Her and Anne hit it off instantly, like two girls who’ve known each other from childhood.

The lovely Nicoletta - for us, the friendly face of Greece.

On arrival, we were picked up from the ferry by Christos, a young guy who proudly told us that his little daughter turns one year old in a few weeks’ time. He would give us many lifts downtown in the hotel minibus, going out of his way to manoeuvre the narrow laneways to get us to where we wanted to go. If we could coincide our return with a ferry passenger pickup, he would pick us up with his usual friendly greeting.

The day of Anne’s 60^th birthday began with the usual buffet breakfast in the restaurant. Large windows were like huge paintings showing scenes of a wide blue sea and a gorgeous little Greek town. At lunchtime Nicoletta presented Anne with a bottle of French champagne and a scrumptious chocolate birthday cake cooked by the hotel’s very own chef. She had already left a 2018 Naxos calendar as a birthday present in our room. The rest of the afternoon and evening was just as quietly momentous – an unforgettable milestone birthday.

Birthday cake and champagne at Hotel Grotta.

While some evenings would be spent down in the town, we spent most evenings in the hotel, either sitting in the restaurant, outside on the balcony or on the rooftop just admiring the view. Sunsets from the hotel were unmissable, each night was a spectacular show put on by Mother Nature who happened to place the setting sun directly over the Portara, the ancient doorway to the Temple of Apollo in the bay below us. Two young ladies looked after us each night – Despina on reception and Kalli behind the bar. We called them our “A Team” – they were meticulous in their duties and inquisitive about our day and wellbeing. Despina had just completed a degree in psychology at the University of Crete, and was earning some money before returning to Uni to do her Masters. Kalli had just finished studying Business and Accounting. Nicoletta confided in us that both girls were an asset to the hotel and she hoped to have them as employees for some time. We fully understood why – they were wonderful.

Sunset over the Temple of Apollo, while we sip wine on the roof of the Hotel Grotta.

Blessed with not being able to accept cruise ships, Naxos has few tourists and life is slow, leisurely, and relaxing. All the locals are friendly, helpful and hospitable, and the Hotel Grotta exemplified this. Our modern room had a beautifully comfortable bed and a view of the town and sea, and the hotel had an indoor pool, spa, sauna and steam room (hammam). A swim in the Aegean, however, was only a few minutes away. The weather was glorious, we hardly saw a Grecian cloud the whole time. We met many fellow travellers – couples from Broken Hill in Australia, Napa Valley in California, Toronto and Montreal in Canada, and Derbyshire in England. We discovered that many people come back to this same hotel, just like Steph and Tim back home in Tassie who made the recommendation to us in the first place. We are so very grateful that they did. But our enduring memory of the Hotel Grotta will be the hospitality and friendship of Nicoletta, Dimitri, Christos, Despina, Kalli, and everyone else at this amazing place.

The dining room with a million-dollar view.

Naxos,Greece

It’s somewhat strange how far Aussies will go to travel to the other side of the world. For us, it took three flights to reach Zurich, two of them long hauls, before continuing on with a fourth flight to Athens, followed by a one hour bus ride to the port of Piraeus, arriving at 3am. We had a few hours’ sleep in a hotel before a late checkout and a five hour ferry trip to the island of Naxos. After effectively two days of air, bus, taxi and ferry travel, we reached our destination for the next six days. Ah, the virtues of living in the Land Downunder.

Why Naxos? After all, it is only one of over 200 hundred islands of the Cyclades in the Aegean Sea off the south-east coast of Greece. As with so many instances of travel planning, it started with a dream of Anne’s to celebrate her 60^th birthday on a Greek Island, following on from her 50^th birthday in a medieval village in the south of France ten years before. We’d heard stories of the tourist crowds that flock to the popular islands of Mykonos and Santorini, also in the Cyclades, so we wanted something less touristy. A chance conversation with our friends Stephanie and Tim had them suggest their favourite place in Greece – the Hotel Grotta on the island of Naxos. Further research suggested it to be a promising location. Actually staying there proved it to be perfect.

The township itself consists of white box-like buildings, with blue window shutters, on a hillside that has a medieval castle dominating the hilltop. We’ve wandered the narrow laneways exploring all types of little shops, cafes and restaurants. We’ve had pre-dinner drinks in a bar while people-watching as locals go about their daily business. We’ve sat on the hotel rooftop watching ferries and fishing boats come and go down in the port. On the horizon we can see the islands of Paros, Delos, Mykonos, Siros, Tinos, Delos, all sitting in the incredible blue waters of the Aegean Sea.

 

Wandering the narrow laneways of Old Naxos town.

There’s nothing quite like the challenge of hiring a car in a foreign country and tackling narrow roads and laneways whilst driving a left-hand-drive car on the right-hand side of the road. We did so for a day to explore the island of Naxos, and we survived unscathed, as did my nerves, with memories of riding a motorbike in Turkey in the deep recesses of my mind. We discovered that Naxos is a mountainous island, with soaring craggy cliffs and sheer rock faces that took our breath away. At every turn in the road, a different view of the sea would come into view as we traversed the island in only a couple of hours. We saw villages precariously perched on steep hillsides, again following the tradition of Greek Islands with white houses adorned with blue window shutters. The twisting mountain passes ensured that the journey took most of the day.

 

Apollonus, in northern Naxos, on the beautiful Aegean Sea.

One of many hillside towns across Naxos.

As we sit around the hotel to eat, drink, and contemplate life, the view is dominated by the Portara, a stone construction sitting on an islet just off the harbour. It was built around 530 BC by an ancient Greek called Lygdamis, intended to be the entryway of a temple dedicated to the god Apollo, but it was never finished after Lygdamis was overthrown. The massive columns and lintel were too big to dismantle, so it still stands today to greet anyone entering the port of Naxos Town. It is an imposing structure, viewable from many a vantage point along the coast, and it just enhances the magic of the island. Sunsets from the hotel were the most spectacular evenings, with the Portara basking in the ever-changing twilight. Perched on top of a hill overlooking the township and harbour, the hotel is simply a jewel of the Aegean.

The Portara, with Naxos town behind.

Zurich, Switzerland

While the focus of this holiday is Greece followed by the Amsterdam-Budapest river cruise, we took advantage of a Swissair stopover in Zurich to explore another place that’s always been on the Bucket List. During these few days of living in the land of Roger Federer, we’ve grown to love this place. It’s friendly, multicultural, clean, and beautiful.  Typically European, uniquely Swiss.

The dominant colour is green. Everywhere you look there are parks, gardens and trees. Some trees are huge, towering overhead to provide a wide canopy that would surely be appreciated on a hot summer’s day. Unfortunately we were in no need of any such shade, we didn’t see the sun until the day we left. It rained for three days and remained cloudy for the rest. Perhaps that’s why this country is so green.

A rainy day in the Swiss Alps. 

We spent a day on a tour into the Swiss Alps that we booked a month ago. From Zurich (at 408 metres above sea level) through Lucerne (435m) and Interlaken (556m) by bus, we then climbed into the mountains by rack railway, passing Kleine Scheidegg (at 2,061m), Eigergletscher (2,320m), Eigerwand (2,864m), Eismeer (3,158m) and finally Jungfraujoch (the highest railway station in Europe at 3,454m). We’d been going up since leaving Zurich. The final destination Jungfrau is now a big tourist attraction, indeed we had to battle hundreds of tourists. It is touted as “the Top of Europe” with commanding and panoramic views of the Swiss Alps in all directions. Unfortunately we saw absolutely nothing. Visibility was down to a measly three metres because of rain, snow and mist. The railway line is directly adjacent to the 1,800m north face of the famous Eiger mountain. I’m sure it really was within touching distance, as the brochure said, somewhere beyond that thick fog. The weather made it a hugely disappointing day.

Grindlewald, on a rainy day.

At least the scenery below the snowline was more visible. Precipitous rock walls gave way to steep slopes of pasture, and the grazing cattle were actually wearing clanging bells around their necks in distinctive Swiss style. The villages we passed through (one was actually called Grindlewald) consisted of steep roofed chalets scattered haphazardly amongst rolling green fields. They apparently become extremely busy during winter as tourist skiers triple their population. There’s no snow at this altitude today, just rain. Buckets of it.

Boats on the shores on Lake Zurich.

Wandering the streets of Zurich we discovered that it’s a very liveable city, indeed it has been voted that over many years. Situated on the shores of Lake Zurich and its outflow, the Limmat River, water plays a big part in the city’s lifestyle. Forests of masts from boats moored in many marinas are testament to this. We were warned that it’s an expensive place, and this is indeed the case. The taxi from the airport (which is relatively close to the city) cost $95 Australian. Diesel is equivalent to $1.91 AUD (the average price back home is in the mid-$1.30s). A cheap meal in a restaurant is $40AUD and a gin and tonic $22 AUD.

Beautiful Zurich town, on the Limmat River.

However, the Swiss economy is obviously booming, judging by the number of cranes on the city skyline. There is construction happening everywhere as new buildings are being erected, while many existing buildings are shrouded in scaffolding. Zurich has a global presence in so many financial and business spheres, with seemingly every bank and big company represented here. We saw the European headquarters of Google and the world headquarters of FIFA. The public transport system was very easy, with trams, buses and trains accessible on the same ticket. Sadly smoking is still tolerated in public spaces, which we still can’t get used to, after finding the same in France and Italy. I couldn’t help but notice every pregnant woman on the streets, maybe because my thoughts are constantly with my daughter back home.