Thursday, February 19

I’m not doing any German homework today. We just visited the Acropolis in Athens, and I’m exhausted. We were fortunate to have clear skies and slightly warmer temperatures, but it was windy as hell.

There were islands visible outside our cabin window when we woke up, and from our balcony we watched the port approach. With Mark’s powerful binoculars we were able to see the Acropolis while still a few miles out to sea. But then it was off to our couple’s massage, which is not as sexy as it sounds. We were in the same treatment room, though, and got lovely back rubs. Mark was so relaxed, he didn’t cough once. Considering how much beer he had last night, that’s a miracle.

A quick bite to eat, then off to meet our shore excursion. There were several buses headed to the Acropolis, and ours had a stylish guide named Athena (truly!).

The buses park below the summit, and you have to hike the rest of the way up. Mark, the acrophobe, had a few moments of panic, because the path hugged the cliff in a few spots. But he made it to the top, and we fought the mobs for a few poses with ancient ruins in the backdrop. The Parthenon, of course, was half-covered in scaffolding. Isn’t that always the way?

My favorite building was not the Parthenon, but a smaller building with some beautiful caryatids. But mostly the Acropolis is a bunch of, well, ruins. Chunks of marble and parts of columns litter the ground like rusted cars in a redneck’s yard. Views of the city were fantastic from up there, but I may never get a comb through my hair again.

I was challenging my own dirty hair record set in 1996 when Kirstin Williams and I went on a 5-day canoe trip in Zimbabwe. There was no bathing at all there, thanks to the crocodiles that dwell in the Zambezi river. Here I’ve managed to take a few showers, but I hadn’t washed my hair since Friday morning in Columbus. The low water pressure on the ship is simply uncivilized. But before I went for my massage this morning, I finally cracked and gave my hair a scrub.

The tour then drove us around Athens, where we got to see a few government buildings, random old ruins, and lots of city apartments. I like to imagine how people live in the places I visit, and these apartments mostly had balconies (for drying laundry), but the city is densely packed and not so pretty.

Traffic was also kind of manic, with motorcycles darting in and out among the cars. Athena advised us, however, that traffic was light because a) it wasn’t rush hour yet, and b) the buses were on strike. If you say so, sweetheart.

After we returned to the ship, we walked back into Piraeus (the name of the port town), and Mark bought a football shirt for a Greek team. I bought a few snacks with Greek lettering on them for my niece and nephew back home. Despite the winds, by the end of the day we were smelling that infamous Athens pollution.

Sat on the balcony to watch the sun go down, and nearly froze to death. Winds are still crazy strong. Time for a beverage.

Addendum: Who needs a beverage? We just saw the most bizarrely awful, awfully bizarre show ever. There was no entertainment we wanted to see tonight, so we decided to check out the marionette show… with low expectations, of course. What followed was politically incorrect, vulgar, and surreal – and not in a good way. Stereotypes of native Americans, embarrassing boudoir numbers, and who-slipped-me-the-acid skits featuring Russians singing “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” (isn’t that in Ireland?), a donkey dressed as Elvis and, you guessed it, vultures on a date.

And what was even more shocking was that some members of the audience seemed to really dig it. During one number, a man behind me gasped “wow!” as if he were truly impressed. At the end, an insane woman gave a standing ovation. And when we got in the elevator afterward, traumatized and mouths agape, a lady said to us, “Wasn’t that great?”