Nick and Nancy Take a Trip

by Nick Jenkin

  Nick – I would have gotten onto that. Apart from being Scotland’s patron saint, I bet you haven’t made the link between that and the flag of Scotland.

  Nancy – St Andrew wore a nice blue cloak?

  Nick – No, the diagonal cross on the flag silly.

  Nancy – I know that dear. I was just winding you up.

  Nick – Oh, for goodness’ sake!

  Nancy – I think we also like Patras because, in Symi, over the summer, we got to know a lovely young woman who comes from there. She is attending university in Patras and wanted to chat in English to improve her language. She is such a beautiful woman, her sunny attitude seemed to rub off on us and on the idea of Patras itself. Isn’t it odd how these things work!

  Nick – As we left the city, we had a wonderful view across the gulf to the mainland and the imposing bridge that spans the gap. Opened in 2004 and, at nearly 2 miles long, it is the longest bridge of its type in the world. We stopped and had a good look. It is pure white and quite breathtaking in the morning light, but the need for breakfast dragged us away.

  It was the first of October, sunny and beautiful at 19C (about 67F). Over coffee and croissants, we soaked up the warmth and watched the poor Greeks going about their work, but eventually we forced ourselves to get a move on and found the motorway.

  It was Motorway 8, brand new at a cost of 2 billion euros. When it was inaugurated, only 6 months earlier by Alexi Tsipras the Prime Minister, he said, ‘It stands as a symbol of Greece’s ability to stand on its own 2 feet’ (that is, despite being bled dry by the European banks).

  It is a struggle for Greece to pull towards sovereignty again after the crash and Europe’s subsequent financial stranglehold. The long-term contracts brought about by the forced sale of Greece’s airports, railways, water and energy, for example, means that for decades, money will be flowing out of Greece instead of staying at home to stimulate the domestic economy. Even the port of Piraeus has been privatised and sold off to China!

  In Tsipras’ speech, if you change the words ‘Greece’s ability to stand on its own 2 feet’ to ‘the ordinary Greek’s ability to stand on their own 2 feet’, a different picture emerges. In 2013, 60% of young workers were jobless but at least that is down to 35% as we speak. That is only one in 3, only! About 30% of the Greek people are close to the poverty line with over 20%, in 2017, living in extreme poverty which means they cannot pay their bills or warm their houses or regularly eat a meal with meat or fish, or even afford a television, according to European statistics.

  Nancy – I don’t think this is the place for politics, Nick.

  Nick – I think that is one of the problems in Britain. Very few of us want to talk about politics for fear of offending!

  Nancy – Well you can get off your high horse now.

  Nick – But…

  Nancy – Nick!

  Nick – Okay. Let’s get back to the nitty-gritty of our journey.

  We made the usual stops for the 2 “Ps”, petrol and piddles but then, all of a sudden, we had to add another “P” stop – “the putrefaction stop”. My nose was dissolving into a mucus mess. By now I had succumbed to Nancy’s sneezes, which would not have been a problem had I not been riding the scooter with my visor down. If you have seen the movie ‘Dumb and Dumber’, where they go over the mountain on a moped and come down with their runny noses frozen all over their faces, you will know what I mean. The warm wind was drying the…well you get the picture. Suffice it to say, we also had to stop regularly to wash my visor down with water from our drinks bottle. Oh, ignominy!

  Nancy – What is the matter with you this morning? First you are off on one about politics now you have become obnoxious about bodily functions!

  Nick – I’m ill and it’s all your fault.

  Nancy – It’s your nephew’s fault. Anyway, I’ve had my cold for days now and you haven’t heard me complaining?

  Nick – No, but my cold is very bad. And I have to do all the driving as well.

  Nancy – You poor old thing.

  Nick – Less of the old!

  Nancy – Oh dear, grumpy groops!

  So, once more, there we were, 2 odd English people, driving down a motorway in Greece, in beautiful sunshine, sneezing and coughing and moaning!

  But the journey could have been worse, it could have been raining. In fact, the opposite was true. At one of the stops, we were so hot that we removed our coats and tied them round our waist.

  Nick – I still had to keep my visor on.

  Nancy – Patience Nancy.

  It was a fantastic drive and the new motorway almost halved our journey time. What I find interesting about this motorway is that they gave the tunnels names. I don’t mean they named them after the area it cuts through, like ‘The Dartford Tunnel’ for example, but after people. One of the tunnels on this stretch was named after a socialist leader and another after a teacher and left-wing activist who was killed in a demonstration about educational reform. Isn’t that amazing and quite controversial, even for Greece.

  Nick – So you are onto politics now?

  Nancy – It’s your fault.

  I usually leave the factual bits to Nick but seeing he is dying from his debilitating cold I will take over.

  Nick – Hmph!

  Nancy – In the mountains, across the Gulf of Corinth to our left, was the Oracle of Delphi. It is brilliant because, in a dominantly male society, the oracle was a woman, the high priestess of the temple to Apollo, at Delphi. Through her, Apollo spoke to give advice and prophecies. We are talking 800 years before Christ here. She was clever because she would rarely give a straight answer…

  Nick – A woman, who would rarely give a straight answer? Gosh!

  Nancy – Watch it!

  What I am trying to say is the advice she gave was often deliberately ambiguous. For example, she told Nero that the number 73 marked the hour of his downfall and, while he was thinking he was going to live to the ripe old age of 73, he was abruptly murdered by a man, aged 73.

  Nick – So if we consulted her today she would say something like, ‘Unless you stop sneezing Nick, Piraeus will arrive in a fog!’

  Nancy – She might, indeed, but your visor is clean now, isn’t it?

  Nick – Snot bad.

  Nancy – Ah, I see you’re feeling a little better?

  Nick – No!

  Nancy – The Gulf of Patra slowly morphed into the Gulf of Corinth and soon we were about to cross the Corinthian Canal which links this gulf with the Saronic Gulf on the Athens side. 130 years ago, if we were travelling up the Gulf of Corinth towards Athens in a boat, we would have bumped slap bang into the city of Corinth. To continue by boat, we would have had to turn around and sail another 430 miles around the Peloponnese. Today, in the same boat, we would simply sail straight through the Corinthian Canal, a mere 4 miles, and out the other side. Essentially the Peloponnese is now an island!

  Nick – If we were in the same boat as the one from 130 years ago we would probably sink.

  Nancy – I will continue! The Corinthian Canal is one of my absolute favourite pieces of engineering. When I crossed it for the first time, I was amazed. Seeing the sheer 300 feet drop of the walls and the boats dwarfed at the bottom, fair took my breath away.

  Nick – Okay, you’ve got me going again, darling, thank you. There is a town at the other end of the canal called Isthmia which, although small, is fascinating in itself.

  Nancy – For those of you who aren’t interested in the more arcane elements of history, drop a paragraph.

  Nick – For thousands of years, before the canal was dug, they actually hauled the boats out here and physically dragged them over land to Corinth, saving them days sailing all the way round The Peloponnese. Isthmia itself dates back hundreds of years before the birth of Christ. Alexander the Great, Emperor Nero and even Saint Paul visited Isthmia because here was the temple to Poseidon, Greek god of the sea, and every 2 years, from 600BC onwards, it held the PanHellenic games, one of t
he precursors of the modern Olympic games. Apparently, Poseidon the sea god won Isthmia after a battle with Helios, the Greek god of the sun.

  Another spectacular thing about Isthmia is that it is at the end of a massive Roman wall, The Hexamilion, that ran across the whole of the isthmus to keep out the barbarian hoards. With a fortress and 153 towers along its length it is the largest archaeological structure in the whole of Greece. Of course, only parts of it can be seen today.

  For those of you interested, I can recommend a brilliant book by David Stuttard that links the characters in Greek mythology to actual places and archaeological sites on the map.

  Even today the town is not without its marvels. Isthmia sports a very unusual bridge. You can drive a car across it from one side of the Corinthian canal to the other but, if a boat is coming, it sinks beneath the waves and disappears.

  I wonder if the word ‘isthmus’ comes from the name of the ancient town, or the name of the ancient town comes from the word ‘isthmus’?

  Nancy – Sigh! After an hour, we were driving through the crumbling waterfront buildings of Piraeus. We have had problems in the past, finding our ship in the port, nearly missing a boat to the islands once. (Gosh how surprising, I can hear you say!) But this time Nick was obviously back on form. He remembered leaving the port from a back entrance, the last time we were there, and, before you could say Blue Star Ferry, we pulled up alongside it.

  On an enormous computerised sign, the words “Welcome Aboard” appeared in Greek and English, followed by the itinerary. The names of the islands moved across the screen as we read them aloud, ‘Patmos, Lipsi, Leros, Kalymnos, Kos and…’ neither of us could help it, we both shouted ‘Symi’, before giving ourselves a congratulatory cheer followed by hugs and kisses. We had made it. Even if the bike collapsed onto the ground in a heap now, we could drag it onto the boat, this end, and off the boat at the other. Unless the boat sank, we were home and dry.

  What am I saying!

  What a Surprise!

  Nancy – What a stupid thing to say.

  Nick – Thank you dear!

  Nancy – Tempting fate like that especially with our luck! The boat we always take to Symi, “The Patmos”, wasn’t there. Two weeks earlier it had come so close to sinking they had to evacuate all the passengers.

  Nick – Well, shut my mouth!

  Nancy – Apparently, ‘The Patmos’, the youngest ship of the Blue Star fleet, and its pride and joy, was approaching the island of Ios when it struck a reef, gashed a 90-metre hole in its side and started taking on water! It was 1.45 in the morning, amidst rough seas. The 200 passengers said there was an enormous bang and shaking like an earthquake, with things falling off shelves and tables. Then suddenly it was all sirens and life jackets as nearby boats rushed to the vessel’s aid. For a few nail-biting hours, until first light, the passengers were stranded and only then were they able to be transferred to smaller vessels and onto the island. Their cars and trucks had to be left behind.

  Imagine if the ship had been full, with 2,000 passengers!

  Nick – When an embarrassed crew member told us the story, we were stunned. For such a famous and reliable shipping company to nearly lose a ship is a shocker especially upon such a well-known reef. It seemed ridiculous, careless, dangerous even.

  I know it might sound like a storm in a teacup to you but maybe it’s because you don’t realise that, only 17 years earlier and just 25 miles to the east, a similar passenger ship sank and 72 people were drowned! Not a Blue Star I might add.

  And there I was joking about it!

  Nancy – Nick and I both adore Blue Star ferries. They are amazing beasts, beasts of burden, criss-crossing the Aegean like blue whales, linking people and places, suppliers and outlets. Apart from the lorries, a person can simply place an item in the boat’s hold, say at Piraeus, and another person can then pop on board at its destination and take it off, job done!

  The ferries are considered such an important lifeline that they are subsidised by the Greek state to ensure that they don’t chase profit at the expense of stranded islanders.

  Without them what would we do on Symi. No fresh fruit, no food, no wine, (imagine that!), no restaurants or tavernas. Everything comes in by boat. Even water is brought to the island by tanker.

  Nick – Many is the time Nancy and I have sat in the port taverna as the ferry arrives. It is a fantastic sight. It turns around in a little over its own length and ends up stern on to the dock, practically blocking the whole of the harbour. The ramp lowers with a crew member balancing on its lip, ropes fly and then it’s 15 minutes of pure havoc. The vehicles and passengers on the dock rush to get on and the vehicles and passengers on the ship, rush to get off. The port police blow their whistles and try and contain the scrum while vehicles rev their engines and push forward. Individuals rush on to pick up parcels, motorcycles roar up one side as the cars rush down the other and passengers fight their way up the gangway. First off is the Post Office van and then one or 2 lorry cabs back in to pick up trailers and dump them ashore before going back in for more. The vans with the provisions that we will see again later in the shops, roll off and, at this point, the cars are allowed on while crew members stop them for their tickets and place destination stickers on their windscreens. Organised mayhem!

  Nick – Piraeus was a relative doddle in comparison as the ship has hours there to do a turn-around. I parked the scooter next to the ramp and, again, a crew member couldn’t resist asking about it, how much did it cost etc. It surely is a looker.

  On board, they secured it with ropes. No snazzy expensive straps like on the English Channel ferries, just ropes and a cloth as a buffer against the paint work, doing exactly the same job. Then, dead on 3pm, we inched away from mainland Greece.

  Our ferry would plough through the Mediterranean for 7.5 hours, non-stop, until it hit the Dodecanese (not literally I hope!) and its first port of call, the island of Patmos. From there it would hop from island to island, dropping off and picking up, before we alighted at Symi.

  Nancy – But, instead of ‘The Patmos’ which was still in dry dock, we were stuck with ‘The Paros’ – smaller, slower, 10 years older and with no restaurant. And it was packed.

  But every cloud has a silver lining, it was packed with Symiots. Everywhere we looked there were people we knew. There was Sotiri, our neighbour, coming back from the doctors in Athens, and our local Pappa (priest). Our dentist was on board and a good sampling of yia-yia’s (grannies) I knew from my local church.

  We couldn’t go anywhere on board without saying hello. It was wonderful, like we were home already. The noise of chatter was deafening and there was an exhilarating sense of party time. They are a canny lot these Greeks. Not for them the pricey take-aways. They were opening bag upon bag of home cooked food and pressing nibbles onto us.

  Normally I would have organised a picnic but being on the road for the last week made that kind of difficult.

  Nick – So, generous handouts apart, we had to fall back upon the services provided by The Paros which amounted to one burger bar and a couple of snack bars serving crisps and the like. We had bought a burger from one of these outlets before and, to be polite, it wasn’t to our taste. So, I went on a hunt for alternatives and returned with tiropitas (cheese pies), doughnuts and a couple of coffees. We had a 15-hour journey ahead of us and, frankly, they were not going to cut it. An hour later we were still hungry, so it was cheeseburgers or nothing, ugh!

  Time for a glass of wine.

  Nancy – We were due in to Symi at 5.30 the next morning so for this trip we decided against a cabin. We both thought it was pointless to pay the extra money for a bed we would probably be late into and which we would crawl out of at 4.30, so we made for one of the quieter lounges on an upper deck with, what they call, ‘aircraft style’ seats that lean back.

  Nick – For those of you who have island hopped in Greece, you will know that people sleep everywhere and anywhere – on seats, benches, floors, carpete
d corners, anywhere they can lay their bones.

  But, isn’t it odd how people like to stick together. The ship was busy, but they had all crammed themselves into the main lounges while we had found an empty lounge, 2 decks up.

  When we retired, it was late, as Nancy had predicted. I hadn’t wanted to touch a drop that evening but Nancy had insisted.

  Nancy – Yeh, yeh, yeh!

  We spread ourselves over 3 seats each and Nick went straight off. He seems to sleep better, half sitting up than when he is horizontal in our own bed. He started snoring.

  Nick – I don’t snore!

  Nancy – So what was that noise you were making?

  Nick – I had a piece of music going around and round in my head and the only way I could get rid of it, and go to sleep, was to practice regulated breathing and concentrate on relaxing each part of my body in turn.

  Nancy – It sounded just like snoring to me.

  Nick – People in glasshouses shouldn’t throw stones. Nancy will insist on falling asleep on her back so that I have to wait until she starts snoring before I can gently ask her to turn over. Only then can I sleep myself.

  Nancy – I don’t snore. I simply make delicate sleeping sounds.

  Nick – And very sweetly too, darling. The next thing I knew Nancy was stirring and it was coming up to 5.00 in the morning. Once again, she did the coffee and croissant duty. She is my ‘tea-in-bed’ queen and I really appreciate it.

  Nancy – If I waited for Nick we would never have tea in bed. He is so slow to get going in the morning.

  Nick – That is true. For Nancy, once she is awake, so is the rest of the world. She can go from nought to 60 faster than a formula one car, whereas I need to come round slowly, savouring my dreams and saying goodbye to the characters who people my sleeping life.

  Nancy – Having spent years rising for the early shift as a nurse means I am up and ready to go. I have learnt to accommodate Nick over the years and try to be quiet, but some mornings I just seem to bump into everything, knock things over and slam doors, then the sleeping bear awakes.