Human Spirit - on Steroids

We have arrived in Skopje, capital of Macedonia... population of 2.5 million... independent nation since 1991... conspicuously friendless during the 20 century. The story tonight is how a fierce human spirit (perhaps national spirit) can survive healthy and positive after a century of abuse where every nation on earth has turned its back on injustice and persecution of a small nation.

Another history lesson is unavoidable at this time... so let's make it quick. The ethnic group of Macedonian people occupied the Balkan peninsula in Neolithic times. Very early in time, Slavic peoples moved into the peninsula and have assimilated with Macedonian people. Macedonian people claim a heroic ancient history... culminating in Alexander the Great's domination of the known world around 400 BC. Of course, the Greeks will claim ownership of Alexander... after all, he was born in Pella, now part of Greece. The Macedonian people retort that if you asked Alexander who he was, he would reply that he was King of Macedonia... a kingdom with most of its land mass contained within the current boundaries of Macedonia. But 20th century history has not been kind to Macedonia... in fact it has been given the rough end of the stick with each 'real-political' carve-up that occurred in that century.

Please stick with the history for just a little longer. During the long Otterman occupation, Macedonia struggled to free its larger historic borders... and received retribution for its efforts. When the Ottomans walked away from the Balkan Peninsula in 1912, the world powers wanted to establish a Greek nation that was durable. They achieved this result by taking from Macedonia a sea port and its richest agricultural areas. Why did they do this? Who knows... perhaps they thought the Greek history more romantic than the Macedonian history. But this decision has given Macedonia a century of grief. It was left in a weakened (perhaps unsustainable) state. All its neighbours sniped at its boundaries... trying to sneak a bit of extra territory while no one was watching. Neighbours could smell 'blood in the water' and wanted their share of the spoils.

Enough of history... history that doesn't show any of the major powers of the 20th century in a good light.

I'm worked up about this history because Joye and I have just returned from visiting the Museum of Macedonian Independence... a purpose built showcase that the Macedonian people have constructed to ensure the world does not forget their history. It's a museum like no other we have visited. Entry is available with an escorting guide. Each room is spotlighted. On the floor stand wax figures (think of Madame Tussaud but more life like) in scenes depicting historical meetings, massacres, battles, etc. You walk between the figures. They are so life-like that they catch you unawares. Wall-size paintings have been commissioned from the same group of artists... the effect is stunning. There is enough factual evidence shown with each scene to open your mind to the possibility of its accuracy. The whole story has so many chapters all illustrating how neighbours and world powers just abused Macedonia... the poor country has been friendless for a century.

There is no happy ending so far. However, recent history is promising. Since it was given its independence in 1991, the number of deaths from military action has been very small. (No one has counted that number for the 20th century... but our guide guessed it would likely exceed one-million.

An earthquake levelled the middle of Skopje in 1963, and the Tito's communist regime didn't restore the area. Upon independence in 1991, the Macedonians designed a central area for Skopje that displayed its glorious history. In 2013, the city centre is now taking shape and it's most impressive.

Macedonia's agonising history may have caused many other people to give up. The period of suffering is so long and the proportion of the population killed is so high. But the Macedonians are a determined lot. They have satisfied the requirements set by the EU for membership... but Greece continues to object to the country being named 'Macedonia'. Before they agreed not to veto the application for membership, they wanted agreement that it will be called 'FYROM' namely, Former Yugoslavia Republic of Macedonia. What a joke! I love the Greeks... but this demand is ridiculous!

Why was Alexander the Great’s Empire so Durable?

We started today with a visit to the ruins at Pella... the capital of Alexander the Great's empire that makes the organisation of Roman Empire look like a rabble! Do you remember Pella from your school-day history? I don't! The archaeologists are on the job and finding an ancient city of enormous proportions (relatively speaking). Our great grandchildren will soon have to submit a Pella paper in order to get the HSC... it will become so important!

Alex's dad (Phillip II) was a big thinker. He ruled an empire just a little bigger than Greece... and had strategic trading partners of about the same size again. But he said, "Fellas, we need to build a trading centre that will dominate the whole known world. To do that, we need..." and he rattled off the prerequisites for a healthy ecosystem... security... convenience... efficiency... trust... etc, etc. To realise his plan, he knew he needed a new capital... on a safe harbour... with broad straight roads to allow efficient moving of produce... he needed a market with lots of traders, organised into industry sectors, and all competing for the best possible deals... he needed prestige housing built to very high engineering standards... he needed plenty of water and excellent drainage... he needed administration quarters that could overlook the whole market... he needed monuments and pleasure domes to impress the visiting plebs. That's what he needed and we started today with a visit to the ruins of what he built. His capital stretched 2.5 klms in a North/South direction and 1.5 klms in an East/West direction. All this was built in the 4th century BC... when Rome was being overrun by the peasants of Gaul.

In the years prior to his death, Philip II was growing the business quite successfully... using salesmanship, charm and monopoly tactics to gain additional trading partners. Old age caught up with Phillip II and he died a hero of the Macedonian people. Alexander stepped up and displayed the impatience of youth. He liked a good fight at any rate... but he figured charm was not the only way to get new clients. And he was right.

Have you ever wondered how Alexander consolidated his newly won cities? He left Pella with a pretty small group and recruited along the way. But the number of trusted lieutenants he had to leave behind in each conquered city were few and far between. If some trumped-up local was left in charge, why didn't he set up his own arrangements when Alexander had travelled 1,000 on to the next battle? The reason probably had something to do with the ecosystem Alexander was able to arrange for them. They didn't want to rebel against Alexander because he left them the promise of life in easy street... a way to sell their special produce to the world through a trading centre that was unbelievably good!

How did a 30 year old manage to campaign his way through a hundred different kingdoms without losing a battle? Was he that much better at war than big Julie (Caesar)? Did he have some secret military tactic he pulled out of the hat... battle after battle? One theory is that Alexander raced into a new territory and scared the life out of ill-prepared opponents. Then Alexander would withdraw and say, "Now that I have your attention, here's a little business proposition I want to present to you". His secret weapon was the extraordinary trading floor his father built for him. Mark my words... the history of Alexander will be rewritten... he will cease to be the world's greatest soldier... he will become the world's greatest marketer!

So ends our Greek odyssey... tomorrow we tackle the Balkans.

Where Aristotle taught Alexander Morals and Ethics

Alexander the Great had the best teachers of his day. Who better to teach morals and ethics than the wise man himself... Aristotle! Subsequently, in his conquering of the ancient world, Alexander showed that he may not have been paying full attention to Aristotle on some important topics such as genocide, debauchery, and lying. Today, we saw the spot where Aristotle delivered those lectures.. and the problem becomes immediately apparent. It's the most beautiful spot... large volumes of fresh water bubbling down the hillside... shaded valleys of Beech trees... a paradise even today. No wonder Alex had problems concentrating on the topic. Such beauty is distracting. The message didn't get through. The world could have been saved hundreds of thousands of war dead, if Aristotle had just given a little more thought to where he delivered his lectures. What's wrong with the old schoolroom back in Eddessa ?

To his credit, Alexander the Great knew how to bury his relatives. He buried his father (the famous Phillip II) and family under a great 'Tumulas' (hills of earth depicting Macedonian burial sites) in life size temples filled with treasures. Some of the temples were raided but when the site was thoroughly excavated in the 1980's they found a couple intact. In presenting the site, the museum left the temple doors in place and the tumulas in place. All the treasures are displayed outside the doors of the temple from which they were found. This is the best museum we have visited. It looks most unassuming from the outside... but once underground, it transports you back to the period of Alexander.

Threat to Greek's Tourist Industry

We drove around northern Greece this morning... gradually making our way to Bulgaria and the Balkans stage of our tour. The weather appeared similar to other days... a cold night with scattered cloud... not much wind... and a sunny day. But what had been a minor irritation during the previous week, shaped up as a major problem. Today, the air quality was atrocious!

We are in Greece, not the most industrialised countries around. When we were in Crete, the story was that high winds had picked up dust from the Sahara desert and dumped it on the islands. At the time, I bought that story... today, I think the problem may be more endemic. Hopefully, the air movements today have been unusual in trapping pollution close to a large mountain range. The people we have asked say that the quality is worse than usual, but cannot explain why today is so bad. The risk is that the day is fast approaching when Europeans will holiday in destinations that deliver clean air... I guess this is already happening to some extent. No one could enjoy the drive we had today with visibility limited to 5 klm and the colour drained from every scene. (Australian... keep your clean air!)

We drove past Mt. Olympus (or so our map indicated). The photo is shown below after the usual processing steps to clean up the air. Poor old Zeus, Apollo, Athena and the other good gods would be turning over in their graves at the lack of visibility from their lofty mountain over their beautiful country.

On the positive side, we are staying in a lovely country villa in the hills outside Thessaloniki... a hotel called Ktima Kalaitzi. Joye found the place off the web.... it is extra nice... an alpine feel... sitting isolated on a hill overlooking the regional centre of Vergina... magnificent setting... lovely hosts. The nearest town, Veria, where we had dinner, has a medieval Jewish quarter with unusual architecture... another lovely town just oozing history.

Lets hope the remaining three days in Greece meet the standards set by the previous three weeks... and that today was a 'once off' dud day.

Lets Brush-up our understanding of Religious Piety

We have just done three monasteries by walking ten kilometres and climbing 500 metres. Piety was never my 'long suit'... but after this morning's effort, I'll never be better placed. So here are some words of caution.

Firstly, a few of you place too much reliance on rationality and the scientific method. Please note:

"Rationality is an excessive confidence in our powers of reason, it s elevation to the supreme and absolute value. In essence, it is a form of disbelief, lack of faith. It is not a simple sin, but a sinful state of mind, a sinful view of life. Rationalism is the most typical and the most evil manifestation of pride, concealed beneath all our other sins, latent in all our actions, poisoning all our good deeds, leading to an absolute belief in the supremacy of the self and finally to the inability to repent - thereby closing the door of divine mercy. "

Now don't say you haven't been told. These thoughts have been ruminating for some time... but today, in the Holy Monastery of the Great Meteoron (the transfiguration of our saviour) we saw a card in the chapel saying these exact thoughts! When rationality and science do not back up your assertions it's always handy to label rationality a sin... and the most evil manifestation of pride.

Rationality may say that building monasteries accessible only by rope ladders may not be a good idea. But, now that we know rationality is the most evil manifestation of pride... its OK... let's go ahead and build it anyhow.

The walk from our hotel up to the monasteries was labelled (indelicately) by Lonely Planet as' bum numbing'. Indelicate it may be... but also accurate. The height was not the main issue. The path was first made in the 12th century... and little maintenance has been made subsequently. The loose gravel meant that each step up was sacrificed by half a step slip back down the slope. Still, for us pious types, the hardship only made the spiritual rewards greater. If the rationality of such an equation escapes you... get a hold of yourself.. you may be suffering the most evil manifestation of pride.

This area is the top tourist destination in Greece. Meteoro gets this title against competition from Delphi, Olympia and the islands. Not bad going!

Don't Like Your Neighbours? Follow this Example

We're in a place called Kastraki... next to a group of rocks called 'Meteora'... in central mainland Greece. Monasteries were built at the top of volcanic fissures of hardened sedimentary rock (where pressure from tectonic plates was greatest). Weathering over the millennia, has removed the softer sedimentary rock... leaving the hardened fissures poking out making an unusual landscape. The first monasteries were only accessible by rope ladders and later by being pulled up in a net. Nervous visitors, when asked if they would like to be lifted in the net, often asked, "How often do you change the rope?" "Only after the good Lord lets it break" was the reply... an answer that wouldn't have settled the nerves.

After the Turks had their day, the monks could think of no good reason to rejoin the community in the valley. A number of the monasteries are still operating. Joye had to slip a wrap-around dress over her jeans to visit.

So, if you are having problems with your neighbours, do something about it... like the good monks of Kastraki. There remains a good number of fissure tops not yet built upon... but you had better hurry... they are eroding quickly.

We'll spend tomorrow having a good look around here. First appearances indicate it is spectacular. Not yet convinced to join the monastic order. The one we visited today looked pretty quiet... and I don't think they would get very good wi-fi reception.

Neat Business Model - be an Oracle

What can Delphi teach us about running a good business? A lot!

Picture a beautiful blue eyed virgin sitting in front of a cave high up near the mountain peak. She is the oracle... no worldly experience... sweet and innocent. The fixers have to change girls regularly... because the girls get bored... and run off with the good looking customers. The 'fixers' behind the scenes invite leaders to visit from all the city states. These politicians all want to know how glorious will be their legacy. By appointment only, the politician is seated before the oracle... "How glorious will be my memory?"... no difficulty in anticipating the question. Now the poor young virgin has been drugged. She can no longer speak coherently. But the client is told that is because she is in another world conversing with the great god Apollo. A priest is needed to interpret the words of the oracle. (The priest is one of the fixers.) He has a string of words well chosen for vagueness and ambiguity." Your face will launch one thousand ships! "... that sort of thing. Always some words were included to ensure a proper payment was made."If you donate one year's worth of your earnings, your face will launch one thousand ships."

I like the tale of Alexander the Great. He visited Delphi (during the time Macedonia ruled the region). He sat before the oracle and asked, "Will I ever be defeated? " The fixers must have thought they were on a big earner with this client. They tried to milk the visit by creating some psychology pressure. The oracle mumbled some psychedelic mumbo jumbo... that was interpreted by the priest as, "The answer to your question will be revealed tomorrow". Apparently, young Alex wasn't satisfied with the answer. He grabbed the oracle by the hair and dragged her towards the edge of the cave. The oracle... not used to such pain yelled out, "Stop... stop... OK... you'll never be defeated!" "Thank you ", says young Alex," That was the answer I wanted".

Just one simple confidence trick lead to 1000 years of undreamed wealth pouring into Delphi. Quickly, they built a temple for the oracle to work her magic. This was replaced by a bigger temple and yet again, by a bigger one still. Each city state had their own 'treasury' building on site, jam packed with the world's best art. Earthquakes would damage the site and the fixers would spread the word that Apollo expressed his displeasure at the measly offerings from the city states... they were told to lift their game.

It would seem that the business model still works today. All the other historical sites we have visited have been as empty as the catholic churches in Athens. But Delphi... today we had to queue to look at the fallen down stones and jerry built replicas.

If you are seeking a more prosperous business model, change to being in the 'oracle' business. Some of you are well ahead of the game... and already charge exorbitant fees for foretelling the future. Just ask Doug and Barry how their businesses are going.

Which is Best - Greece or Italy?

Dear reader... you know this blog avoids controversy... always staying with the 'double verified' facts... and avoiding exaggeration at all costs. In keeping with such values, it is with trepidation that we try to decide which country is the better tourist destination. Such questions arouse tribal responses. If you have been to one country but not the other, then, of course, the country you visited has to be the better. Its a bit like the Apple verses Android debate... whichever one you own has to be the best.

Today, we took the drive from Olympia to Delphi. We are now familiar with Greece's scenic beauty... but our reactions remained strong. We asked ourselves if Italy was going to be as beautiful. Crowd sizes will differ... traffic congestion... parking... temperature... spring colours... age of ruins... prices. There will be lots of differences influencing our reactions. We just think that Greece has the runs on the board... Italy is chasing... and will not be allowed too many slip-ups if it is going to win the comparison. Which one do you think is the better?

Six degrees of separation... no, make that five. We stopped for lunch at a small town recommended to us by Lorraine Foster... seaside village off the main road... largely unspoiled. We were strolling the waterfront, minding our own business... when this lady separates from her group and asked if we speak English. We said 'yes' and answered her question regarding the location of the old port. We asked if she was Australian... she had the accent . "Yes"..." Where do you live? "..." Lismore". We did not know them, but we all knew people in the area. They were the 'Spreckley' family. He used to make concrete tanks... but now is involved with a home for special needs people. Small world! Have to be on your best behaviour all the time .

Visit Olympia Site on 17th April

We visited the Olympia Site on a day when the blossom trees outshone the ruins. When planning your visit, make sure it is on 17th April when you are likely to experience the same marvelous combination.

The Olympic Games history is so well documented that the experts know how each square metre of Olympia was used. The games ran from 776 BC to late in the 4th century AD... with a bit of a gap in the middle... not bad for a cult to retain its following for over 1,000 years. Over a large ceremonial site there is one temple for every god you can think of. Of course, Rome had a go at running the show... choked the temples with their marble statues of politicians in togas (and shoved the buffed bodies of the Greek gods into the cupboard)... persuaded the Greeks to let them compete in the games... eventually overseeing the fall in popularity of the games. The noble goal of competing was replaced by the goal of winning. Emperor Nero fell into the latter category. He wanted to win the chariot race. He arranged for his chariot to have a team of 10 horses... while competitors were only allowed four. He stacked the stadium with his cheer squad. Unfortunately, he fell off his chariot during the race... but had the officials wave the yellow flag to slow competitors. He was able to get back onto his chariot and (guess what) win the race. What a hero!

Like every cult following, the Games eventually lost favour. The site had suffered a few earthquakes and needed a lot of work. New gods became popular... the youngsters wanted a change... you know how it goes. In 426 AD, Roman emperor Theodosius II ordered all the temples destroyed. Can you imagine anything dummer than destroying the most important site in European history? Earthquakes later helped finish what human hands had started, as well as flooding caused by a change in the course of the river that flowed through Olympia. The once-great city was eventually buried... saving a good number of relics from looters.

I know some people resent restoration work on ancient sites. There has been a little bit of restoration work done at Olympia... but there is so much art and bronze plate depictions of the site, the restorers didn't have to use too much imagination to replace the stones one upon the other. Probably, the restorations are pretty accurate.

I think Olympia is the best site of antiquity in Greece that we have seen so far... and Greece has the best sites in the world. So save your pennies and get over here to Olympia at this time of year.

Assault on the Senses

Today was not the best day ever (or was it)? We left Monemvasia bright and early and cruised the 60 kms to Sparta. As expected, the young male car drivers were more aggressive than normal... I was given lots of advice from overtaking motor bike riders. Millennia of leaving wussy male babies on the open mountain to die must have nudged the DNA a little towards the aggressive end of the spectrum. We drove through the ruins... they seem to attract little attention, even though they date back to the Mycenaean civilisation (see picture below). You have to give the early Spartans credit... they gave Athens a run for their money way back in 400 BC. Our Athens guide (who may have authored 'My Fat Greek Wedding' stated that the Greeks invented fascism... Hitler copied everything he knew from the Spartans... who would have guessed.)

The next bit may sound familiar... ravines... high mountain passes... goats... wild flowers... hairpin turns... hilltop villages. Well, after Sparta, we headed for the coast through a spectacular gorge leading to a 2000 metres pass. Gee, driving these roads gets the adrenalin pumping.

The coastal side of the mountain pass opened into country painted with colours that assaulted your senses... visual senses... in a very pleasant way. Whole hillsides were alight with yellow gorse. Avenues of wattle trees (Australian) caught the light in dazzling colour. The cherry blossom today were perfect. Sprinkle their irredescent pink amongst the yellow wattle and the effect is staggering. The highest peaks of the mountains had large trees burdened with brilliant white flowers (they were cultivated trees... probably some type of nut tree). The orange fruit trees are all heavy with flowers and smell heavenly. Mix in the Flanders poppy (brilliant red) with buttercups and dandelions along the side of the road... you can understand why our senses felt assaulted!

Tomorrow, we do Olympia... more history... see the stadium where the boys did their 'nudy' runs... see the rock from which the girls were pushed if they dared take a peek.

Where's My Acropolis?

Today is a designated rest day. We covered over 400 klms in yesterday's drive and we have a similar distance to reach Olympus (our next stop). So 'pottering' is the order of the day... something at which I excel but with which Joye struggles. We did our emails, banking, and post office jobs but could keep still no longer.

We had seen 'brown tourist signs' on the way into town pointing the way to the Acropolis of Zarax... so we headed off to investigate. We turned off busy roads into sleepy back roads... following the frequent directions to our Acropolis. Eventually, the signage stopped... we kept driving... speculating at each bay inlet on the best place to build an Acropolis. There were lots of caves in rock cliffs... so the area was probably popular with Neolithic civilisations. Around a corner, we happened upon a hillside full of tumbled down stone walls... the size of the rocks would require a well organised team of slaves to move... not a farmer's weekend job. There were no signs... no ticket office collecting entry fees... just these big stone walls running through the trees. Could we have stumbled upon a new civilisation? Could we be famous and have lunch with David Leckie? Could we make a film of the Raiders of the Lost Park?

No such luck. Around the next corner of the road was a tiny little sign saying "Epidaurus Limera Archiological Site." We missed out on discovery rights... but the name sounded interesting. Epidavros was the location of the civilisation that sold their medical expertise to the old world... that we had visited three days ago. Do you recall... Gods placing hands on ladies to help with conception problems... having snakes lick the wounds of laceration patients... lots of weird stuff going on there. Had this lot set up an 'outpatients service' in Limera? We hurried back to our hotel to research on the internet.

It turns out that the good burgers of Epidavros saw a vision while holidaying on the island of Kos... forewarning them of the destruction of Epidavros. They hurried back home, shared the bad news with mum and dad, packed their port and headed off. Someone must have known someone who liked Limera... and that's where they settled. Not much archeology has been conducted at the Epidaurus site... there are no reports of them re-establishing their miraculous cure business. The new site appears designed with defence as top priority.

Gee... this place is interesting!

Peloponnese Treasures

Credibility suffers if each and every day is the very best ever. In spite of our previous claims, Joye and I are prepared to put our credibility on the line and say that today was the best day ever (for Greece... and Portugal for that matter). This is a day when we sat in the car for 4 hours... but the countryside we traversed was spectacular! If you are planning a Greek holiday, take out pen and paper and start making notes... you will not want to miss this drive.

We started the day at Nafplio (tucked away at the top of the Gulf of Argolikos). Before we left, we did a folk museum and walked the heights of the Palamidi Fort overlooking Nafplio... not a bad start... little knowing the delights that lay ahead.

We chose to travel to Monemvasia along the coast road... a much slower alternative because of the mountainous terrain... but Lonely Planet said there was an impressive gorge along the way. We are far enough from Athens to free us from traffic. The sun was behind us... the sunshine was brilliant and the water sparkled. The first 50 kms we were travelling up and over the ridges from the mountain range running down to the Gulf. We had clear views to the other side of the narrow Gulf... the scenery was spectacular, so we thought we had struck it lucky.

We turned into the ravine at Leonidio and another world opened up. Driving the Ladron Gorge made the gorges of Crete look like driving down airstrips. We would have climbed 2000 metres in 20 klms of road. The average slope of 1 in 10 disguises the much steeper climbs in some of the hairpin corners. The spring flowers were colouring the mountainsides... we had a monastery... ancient bridges... goat herds... snow capped peaks.. the works! But the depth of the drop at the edge of the narrow road was what held the concentration. The views along the rugged ravines were breathtaking.

At the top of the mountain, we drove through tiny mountain villages... that had made very few concessions to accommodate modern life... with roads barely wide enough for our small car.

Late in the day, we arrived at Monemvasia... an isolated medieval fort built on an island... similar in some ways to Mount Saint Michael. As you would expect, it has a colourful history... fortifying itself against barbarians... being conquered by the Turks... eventually causing the Turks to surrender... and then massacaring the Turkish population... you know, the usual thing.

That's all for today... and I promise not to claim a 'best day ever' status for tomorrow.

Where Fact Meets Legend

I know many of you have visited the Greek Peloponnese region. Have you been surprised how attractive the east coast looks? We spent the best part of a week on Santorini and have been beguiled by its manicured beauty. The time allocated to the Peloponnese was mainly for the history lesson... we didn't expect to be stopped in our tracks by natural beauty. I think that's the difference... natural beauty.

Santorini tries so hard to look beautiful. All that blue and white decor... all those donkeys trudging up and down the cauldron wall... all those shops offering trinkets at prices that are all bargains of the century. When I look at Santorini, I think of someone who may have had botox ... had a bit of nip and tuck around those body parts that tend to sag with the passing of the years... and have gold and trinkets dangling from other body extremities. You can admire the appearance of such people, but the effort to achieve beauty is clearly evident.

Peloponnese, on the other hand, has a beauty that is not cosmopolitan... unassuming... without self-awareness... multidimensional... bright without being flashy... you know what I mean. It comes as no surprise to me that civilisation blossomed in the Peloponnese.

Our first stop for today was the Palace of the Mycenaean civilisation at Mycenae. This is the family that Homer slandered so mercilessly in the Iliad. The reputation of Agamemnon and his descendants never recovered. Standing on the heights of the fort at Mycenae, you could get a sense of feeling of how Agamemnon must have felt seeing the hordes of attacking soldiers making their way up the steep slopes towards the fort walls. It was how I felt watching those cruise ship passengers at Santorini launching themselves towards shore.

Our second stop was visiting ruins from a civilisation that blossomed just before Roman times (300-400 BC) at Epidavros. With our daughter's recent entry into the medical profession, this spot held special interest for us. This civilisation made a fortune from selling medical services to the old world. It had the first hospital... and it was a large institution... probably enough for 50 beds. They made a killing when Rome suffered from a plague and the senators sent their wives to Epidavros for treatment (or preventative treatment). No doubt, the peace and quiet enjoyed by the senators back in Rome was well worth the expense.

Medical science has changed a bit over the years. Today, I would not be keen to defend the professional damages claim from the poor lass struggling with conception problems (see photo below). Let's hope the god that laid his hand on her belly proved to be a reliable witness. Even the guy with the sore leg being left alone overnight in a pit of snakes seems a bit of a high risk by today's standards (see photo below). (Jodie, I just hope none of such nonsense like this goes on today!)

Where the Greek Tourists Go

Today, we left Santorini... a pretty place by any measure. The place can be packed with tourists... but the number of Greek citizens choosing to spend their touring time at Santorini is very few... hardly a Greek tourist in sight. We have flown to Athens, picked up a hire car and headed for the Peloponnese. Our first stop has been Nafplio... a small resort town around the corner from the Korinthus Canal (see picture below). This place was the first capital of Greece... during the war of independence - 1821 - 1826... but I hadn't heard of the place before today. It has a bloody history... the site of two massacres... the first of Turkish citizens when Hellenic forces won one battle... followed by the razing of the town when the Turks won a subsequent battle. (I guess that is why they made this place the capital when Hellenic forces ultimately won.) The town has three fine forts to evidence earlier periods of conflict.

Nafplio has a great feel to it. Sitting on the boadwalk down by harbour you see real Greek citizens taking their leisure. Generally, they appear to be young couples from Athens down for the weekend (its Friday evening here). We found a small restaurant offering traditional Greek food... full of Greek patrons... around 8 PM, a mandolin player and guitar accompanist rolled in an started picking out sounds of the Mediterranean.

We had planned only one night's stay in Nafplio... but there is so much history to cover, we'll need at least 3 nights.

Santorini - the beguiling Charm of a Monster

Yesterday, I got carried away a bit... expressing doubt on the risk/benefit analysis of lingering on the cauldron's edge at Santorini. My mood may have been influenced by passengers from a cruise ship. Some 3,000 of them invaded our relaxed domain... creeping up the cliff path... charging up on the backs of the poor old donkeys... commandeering the cable car... wave after wave after wave... until Santorini's streets were in gridlock. They hung around until 4 PM... talking in loud voices, telling each other how nice the food was... how they bargained so hard on the price of a dress they got the bargain of the century. We see ourselves as 'ferry' people... and a class above 'cruise ship' people. Anyway, something made me cranky... so I'll blame them.

Today was cruise ship free. The streets are quite... the storekeepers are no longer in a feeding frenzy. The gentle pace of pre-season preparations made the Santorini experience so much more enjoyable. But the volcano was still there... quietly sleeping under 500 metres of water.

We took the offensive. Instead of waiting for the volcano to explode, we climbed on board a boat and headed to the island 1 km offshore (at the centre of the cauldron). We climbed to the rim of the volcano and poked it with a stick... jumped up and down on it... questioned its might in a pejorative manner... everything we could think of to provoke a confrontation. Nothing... there was no reaction at all except for the huff and puff of sulphur smoke. We did see where lava spewed from its angry mouth some 60 years ago. We did see the different rock colours each coming from different periods of eruptions. We did see a landscape resembling the moon... some sections entirely free of vegetation.

Some of the passengers went for a swim in a bay heated by the volcano. To get to the heated bay, you had to jump into freezing water and swim to the bay. Yes, to get back on the boat you had to leave the heated water, swim through the freezing water and climb on board. Both Joye and I found this arrangement easy to resist. We stayed on board... Joye looked after a cute 1 year old girl while her parents went swimming.

Tomorrow, we fly (no... we are not taking the ferry) back to Athens, pick up a hire car and head for the Peloponnese region of Greece.

Another chapter begins.

Is it Just Me? I don't get Santorini

If you have been to Santorini, can you please enlighten me. It is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. Tourist ships fight tooth and nail to get a port anchorage and the tourists give the place top billing on TripAdvisor and other ranking sites. I want to know why!

You have to remember that Santorini is a crescent shaped island that forms the ridge of a volcanoe that produced one of earth's largest explosion. It made Kracatoa explosion look like penny farthing crackers on Empire Night. Santorini's volcano took 60 cubic kilometres of rock and threw it into the air. Boulders the size of buses are strewn on mountainsides hundreds of meters above sea level. Volcanic ash hundreds of meters thick covers the mountains and plains on the island. The tsunami resulting from the explosion wrecked the Minoan communities along the coast of Crete. OK, we are talking about one mean volcano.

No one seems to argue that the volcano has gone away. It still heats one large bay of water to 30 degrees... it emits sulphur fumes in large volumes... it has a small lava pool visible. Importantly, it has a long history of coming back. Volcanologists keep close tabs on the monster.

The good citizens of Santorini love a good view. The blowing up of the mountain left extremely steep cliffs overlooking the cauldron... now filled with lovely blue Mediterranean water. If you build right on the edge, you can get the best possible view of the next explosion. I have no reason to question the engineering standards of the Santorini local council. I am sure some allowance has been taken of the frequent earthquakes associated with the demon volcano. All I can say is that they are playing a high stakes game. If one of the buildings packed vertically on the cauldron's edge collapses in a quake, gravity is going to apply some awfully powerful force on the buildings lying between it and the sea. The city seems to be built on foundations of 50 meters of volcanic ash. If it starts to slip at any time, there will be hell to pay.

OK, there is a risk to the magic of Santorini... but what of the benefits? The community has done a terrific job in dressing up the place. The local paint salesman... the one with exclusive rights to blue and white paint must be the richest person in Santorini. We are visiting just before the commencement of the tourist season... every shopkeeper has his paint roller out applying this year's coat of blue and white. The best activity is sitting on a balcony hanging over the cliff edge looking at the blue and white building and the blue water. After you have done that... what next? For the cruise ships, there is no next... after a bit of shopping, they get back on their ship and head to the next island. They can then use the ship's internet to connect with TripAdvisor and lodge a 5/5 ranking saying how great the coffee was. Fortunately for Joye and me, we found the preservation of the Minoan civilisation very interesting. The volcanic ash has preserved from looters relics of the civilisation in remarkably good condition.

That's enough from a cynical old man. Come to Santorini yourself and make up your own mind. Just make sure you have your life insurance paid up to date.

A Little Bit of Excitement

Our stay in Crete has been action packed... a veritable whirlwind of activity... well, actually a gale rather than a whirlwind.

We became aware of the wind before we landed in Crete. The flight was rough. The plane had to circle the airfield waiting for the wind to ease. There was an announcement that the pilot would circle one more time before abandoning the landing and returning to Athens. On this last approach, the pilot thought the odds were OK. He landed with the wind and in order to maintain control had to make the descent at high speed. We hit the tarmac, bounced and applied the air brakes in dramatic fashion. It was a smaller plane (767) so there was plenty of tarmac to spare.

We next became aware of the wind that night. Our apartment at Agia Palagia was high on the slope overlooking the town. That night, the wind whistled around the hills a made a frightful noise. Our apartment had wooden louvered windows that couldn't be firmly fastened... so they rattled in the wind. The windows were not fitted to the frame very well. For the first night, the wind banged the windows making noise that kept us awake. We quickly found a way to stuff toilet paper in the cracks to stop the banging.

We decided to take the ferry to Santorini and not a plane flight. Sea transport would remove the risk of interruption from wind... or so we thought! Our scheduled departure from Crete was at 5 pm. Upon arriving at the ferry terminal we noticed our ship was not dockside. We were told that the wind had delayed its arrival... we could be delayed by a couple of hours. We settled down to wait... but still no ferry. The attendant at the terminal went home at 10 PM, some 5 hours after the due departure time. An hour later, the ferry arrived and we climbed on board. The ship was not very full, so we found a comfortable corner of the lounge to settle into for the 5 hour voyage.

At 11:30 PM, the captain announced that the wind was too high to attempt the crossing. He turned the engines off and here we stayed until the winds dropped. We see ourselves as experienced Drake Passage veterans... not to be intimidated by any gentle breezes the Mediterranean may blow our way. This is not going to look good on the CV! Kept in port by a Mediterranean breeze. Not good. Not good.

Joye was quick off the mark. She headed for the fast growing queue of lounge lizards at the Purser's office, wanting to upgrade from lounge to cabins. She was behind a school teacher looking after a party of 80 Belgium students... would any cabins remain after their needs were satisfied? Thankfully, there was one spare for us. Next morning, we showered and dressed... ready to go. At 9 AM, the captain announced that winds were still too high. We cursed his lack of courage... this is not the way things are done in the Antarctic! We had a lazy day... morning nap... afternoon quiet time. At 7 PM, some 26 hours after the scheduled departure time, we lifted anchor and cleared Heraklion's Venician Harbour.

Joye and I went to the ship's cafeteria to dine and enjoy the motion of moving after such a long wait. Halfway through the meal, the swaying of the ship became noticeable. By the end of the meal, I was not feeling well. It's difficult for me to tell you this... because I thought I had developed into an Antarctican, a voyager of Drake Passage class. OK... I'll say it... I was sick... seasick! I don't know how it happened... in fact, I'll pretend it never did.

We arrived in Santorini at 3 AM this morning. We found our hotel and have a great room. After all the sleep on the ferry, we were able to put in a full day of sightseeing. I'm not sure I fully understand this place... but more of that for another time.

Do Not Try This At Home

This message is for the grandchildren.

Today, we visited a ruin... a pile of old stones... that were very interesting. I want to tell you about one of the paintings discovered when a man dug up the place about 100 years ago.

Click on the picture at the bottom of this message... so that you can see the details.

You will see a painting on the wall. It shows a big bull. Standing in front of the bull is one person hanging hold of the horns of the bull. Next, notice the person who is upside down with his hands on the bull's back. Also notice the guy standing behind the bull. These three people in the drawing represent the same person at different times. The bull charges at the person. The person grabs hold of the bull's horns. The bull tosses the person in the air. The person lands with his/her hands on the bull's back and then somersaults off the bull's back to land on his/her feet.

Girls played this dangerous game as well as the boys. Lots of people who played ended up injured... some even died!

The bull didn't like the game either. After the game, the poor old bull was killed and barbecued and eaten by the spectators.

Makes AFL look pretty tame!
I

Let the Cretean Farmers Save Greece

We have been driving around Crete for the last week exploring every mountain pass... every deep ravine... every olive grove... every goat herd. The thought recurring each day is, "with such difficult farming terrain, how come these farmers look so relaxed?" These guys have more spare time than any other farming group I know... they have the longest life expectancy in the world... and appear to be enviably happy during the worst economic crisis of our time. How smart are these people. When facing a crisis, why aren't world leaders beating a path to their door... seeking advice from the smartest people in the world.

The Cretean farmer has developed a farming economy where he doesn't plough any fields, doesn't need any fertiliser... doesn't have to rush his produce to market before it spoils. .. and in his spare time he grows some grapes. He has bred goats smart enough to come home without being herded and smart enough to live on cliff faces with minimal vegetation. He developed a farming economy that left him plenty of time to solve the problems of the world created by Athens and Brussels and New York.

As far as solving the GFC, the Cretean Farmers are already on the job. In every mountain village you can see the farmer gathered with his mates sharing a drop of grappa followed by a drop of raki. They talk for hours about the range of possible solutions. The arguments are impassioned... lots of arm waving... lots of raised voices. Tomorrow, they will repeat the process... and the day after. Over time the sense of crisis will pass... even though there will have been no steps towards rectification.  Imperceptibly, change will occur... through osmosis. I reckon the farmers will find a solution in the end... a result that will be surprising in its simplicity and its robust nature. 

Why have so much faith in the Cretean farmer? It's their track record that impresses. These guys come from the Minoan civilisation... circa 2000 BC to 1000 BC. The ancestors to these guys were plumbing palaces for running water and flush toilets at the time your ancestors were patting themselves on the back for placing one stone on top of another at Stonehenge. These guys were administering a civilisation with no army... no fortifications... and equal rights for women at the time your ancestors were building Hadrian's Wall and asking the Roman boss if it was OK if he had a drink of water. Don't be fooled by the Cretean farmer... he has proven DNA.

Living at the crossroads of the world, they have been attacked by every would-be military strongman history has thrown up during the last two millennium. First it was the Mycenaean brothers (mainly from Greece), then the Romans that splintered into the Byzantine group. When the Moors were kicked out of Spain, they took over the island as a convenient base from which to operate a Piracy business. The Moors were pulled into line by the Arab civilisation until the Byzantine empire retook Constantinople. For want of a better idea, the Byzantines virtually gave Crete to the Venetians who milked the taxes out of the island for a few hundred years. Eventually, the Ottomans took control for 200 years. The major powers of Europe (Britain, France and Germany) put increasing pressure on the Ottomans. In 1923 the Turkish population in Crete was repatriated and Greek control of the island was consolidated. Bear with me... there is one more major population shift. After World War II, population repatriation between Turkey and Greece resulted in large numbers of people of Greek heritage who had been living in Turkey moving to Crete. They brought with them good technology for wine growing and making. (That is enough history!)

Through all the turmoil history could throw at the Cretean farmer, he learned to survive... knew when to fight... knew when to acquiesce. No wonder he can look at the GFC and still be happy.

Changing Feet on a Vertical Wall

I have just seen a Creten goat, halfway up a road cutting, change the direction of his/her climb. The goat was standing on bits of shale protruding from the cutting surface by no more than 2 inches. The goat was facing in a northerly direction and wanted to proceed south. I watched him/her change direction with so much ease... I couldn't believe my eyes. I am still unable to explain what foot movements were employed on such a precarious ledge. It just happened... as easy as pie.

Watching such acrobatics gave me faith in the ability of the Greek nation to overcome its current economic challenges. In its long illustrious history, the nation has rescued itself from far more severe circumstances. And more often than not, they rescued themselves with artistic ease. Take, for example, Greek farmers... specifically in Crete. They don't have one square metre of flat ground to farm. The soil is so thin you need a microscope to gauge its depth. Do the farmers here worry about their handicaps. Do they get up earlier than the rest of the world's farmers... do they work harder? Far from it... from what I can see, they have lots of leisure time. They're smart... they plant trees instead of planting crops. They don't plough their fields each year. They don't do much insecticide spraying. Do they have to rush their produce to market before it spoils? Do they pay half their earnings to transportation companies? Do they hire contractors to keep their boundary fences in good order? Can the goats eat the grass growing between the trees but not have a taste for the olives? Do they use the waste products of the trees for fire heating? They rarely lose production because of drought or excess rain. They grow trees that are reasonably resistant to local pests, local climatic conditions, relatively easy to harvest.

They eat olives for energy... and avoid all the sickness that bedevilles the wheat eaters. These guys have some of the best life expectancy results on the planet.

You can't tell me this all happened just by good luck. The genius of the Crete farmer has been moulding his product and moulding his environment for millennia.

No we have to let the farmers loose to sort out the economic crisis.

Wild Mountain Men Country

Today, we again headed for the mountains of the South Coast of Crete. We enjoyed yesterday's gorge so much and wanted more. We tackled a mountain pass to the east of yesterday's treck... the pass was a little higher and the descent a little steeper... the gorge a little deeper.

When safely down on the south coast, we passed a couple of hikers. They were the same couple we gave a lift to yesterday. What a coincidence! We stopped and again offered them a lift. The guy is on his third trip to Crete... so knew quite a lot. He and his girlfriend intended staying in the village next on the road. This village is his favourite... because of its disruptive social history. The village men have resisted every form of authority that has been imposed on the village. They resisted the Turks, the Venetians, the Junta, the monarchs and more recently, democratic rule. They resisted the lot!

Recently, after roads were built over the mountains, the town (Horo Stakion) was forced to come to grips with the modern world... even tourism. The men of the town said OK but made it clear that under no circumstances would the men serve. To serve was just too demeaning! In recent years younger men have acquiesced and tied up the apron strings, poured the wine and pumped the gas.

The final feature that our hiker liked was the persistent vendettas that occupied the region. Rudeness and slights committed decades ago were still being settled... often with a bit of violence to repay the interest.

There is nothing like isolation to afford the luxury of indulgences. In a few years, Horo Stakion will be indistinguishable from every other Crete village. But today, it still retains a hint of character that harks back to another era.

Crete remembers Australia

Did you know that Australian soldiers fought in the battle of Crete against German troups in the 2nd World War? Like so many battles in which Australian troops featured, we lost. However, the manner of our losing endeared us to the locals who remember our involvement with great affection. </p>
Today, was a slow start... with no intention of visiting sites important to Australian military history. The morning weather was unpleasant. This island seems to blow a constant gale. Desert sands from the Sahara were dumped on Crete through drizzling rain. Our car was covered with a film of mud. We climbed a steep learning curve coming to grips with the Greek road signs and a different (inferior) GPS navigation system. After getting lost in little seaside towns, we were ready to go home. Driving blind, we spotted a sign pointing to a town name we could find on our paper map. In frustration, we decided that if we were to be lost, we should be lost in a place that we know where we are (if that makes any sense). </p>
Once on that road, we realised we were heading in the direction recommended by our accommodation host. It was close to a dramatic gorge that lead on to an old monastery. Our day had started to improve. The gorge will not be the biggest or deepest we will traverse... but it gave a strong sense of foreboding... very dark and very narrow. It gave a spark to our day. We decided to drive the extra distance to visit the monastery. </p>
I don't know my Cretean history very well. As I understand it (please correct me if I have this mixed up) Australian troops came to Crete after their campaign in Tobruk and Egypt. They also served in other parts of Greece. Well, our boys took a shellacking in Crete and had to make an unseemly withdrawal. The Germans were right on their tails. Our boys had to take to the hills which bought them into an area close to the monastery. The head priest at the monastery was brave and smart. He was able to keep the Germans looking up the wrong valleys while providing food to our boys. Eventually, our boys were rescued by submarines (how exciting is that). There was a big celebration at the monastery to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the action (presumably around 1994).</p>
The monastery has a museum that records the war history and they refer to Australia's involvement with affection. An Australian soldier has donated funds used to construct a fountain in the grounds of the monastery commemorating those war times. It would be remiss not to mention that the monastery has played important roles many times in the history of Crete... anti-Turk movement... introduction social benefits to the needy in the area, etc. etc. </p>
After such a slow start, today has provided enough military history to make it a day to remember. Trish will have to confirm the facts, but I have a memory that our Uncle Lock fought in Crete (or was it Cyprus). He wasn't evacuated by submarine, so he was probably moved out earlier on. </p>

GFC and ordinary Greek citizens

We stayed 3 night in Athens, so we can't claim to be experts in things Athenian. For expert advice, I turned to no other than the hairdresser who owns the business next to our hotel. He delivered a terrible haircut, but his engaging manner was well worth his full charge.

He asked what I did for a living and I said, "Retired". "What was your job before retirement?" "I worked for a bank." "No one is perfect!"

He asked if this was my first trip to Greece. "No. I was here 43 years ago." "That early. How did you get here?" "By air. I flew in." "I reckon those blimps weren't give a fair chance." I knew I was going to enjoy my haircut.

He wanted to talk about the economic problems of Greece. He recognised the issue being caused by a bankrupt country trying to prop up bankrupt banks. He acknowledged the structural weakness where banks benefited from prolific government spending and political parties took the easy political path of spending as if there was no tomorrow. Voters like that. But he allocated a lot of the blame on EU bureaucrats who informed Greece that prolific spending was good in the climate of that time.

He became most agitated when talking about the solution imposed by the EU. Sure, the current solution keeps the most number of banks solvent. It retrieves most of the indebtedness without default. It keeps the Euro currency respectable. But who is paying the price? He talked of his father who worked for 40 years in a good engineering job. He saved his money, invested in shares and property and had arranged a comfortable retirement. Now, he can't sell his shares or property. He has no cash flow. He has to depend on his son whose business is in trouble. (I suspect his father may have provided some backing for the hairdressing business.) "What has my father done to deserve such a poor future?" He talked of university graduates. "For the next 5 years, none of them will find suitable jobs in Greece. They will move to other countries to find employment... and Greece will be the poorer for it." What kind of solution is that?"

I wanted to know what happened to all the money that the government borrowed. Who benefited from that borrowing. My hairdresser reckons it was used to allow governments to be lazy. Instead of managing social security payments, the government just let things slide. When a particularly influential group promoted its favourite development scheme, the government said OK. Mistakes were made...not so much by the people, but by politicians and bureaucrats. The people did not demand lax administration of social security. They did not demand the building of uneconomic infrastructure. Yet it is the people who suffer.

On Easter Sunday, we saw a gathering of some 2000 protesters in Syntagma Square. They weren't radicals. They had one or two signs between the lot of people them. They didn't know what slogans to chant. My guess is, they didn't know what solution they wanted. My guess is that all they wanted to communicate was that the current solution was hurting and they thought it was unjust.

My hairdresser says that Greeks know that circumstances change. They can bear hardship! What gets them annoyed is when they are required to bear the burden for mistakes they had no part in deciding.

I think banks and Germany will remain unpopular in Greece for the next 5 years.

I Think we may have met the the Author of My Big Fat Greek Wedding

Despina is her name. She runs an organisation providing walking tours of Athens. Her profile: aged 55, hard as old boots, not good at conversation, has definite ideas on Greek superiority and Turkish villainy. She delivered what we asked... a recount of Athens history linked to the local landscape. We found her on the Web... booked a tour immediately on landing... and were ready to go at 9:30am yesterday.

You remember the 'dad' from the movie. He went to extraordinary lengths to claim a Greek origin for every word uttered by the prospective son-in-law. Despina took the same approach with her walking group. To give you an example, Joye saw a bunch of wild daisies growing by the path. Joye said, "What a nice bunch of daisies" Despina corrected her. "These are Jasmine. This is a Greek word made from two parts... Jas... which relates back to the god of nature sometimes known as Jassmena... and the second part Mine which of course comes from" la di da di da.

I made the big mistake of saying that the Queen of Australia is married to a member of the Greek royal family. It took ten minutes for Despina to correct my misunderstandings. First, Greeks have never had royalty. Greek people invented democracy and have always treasured democracy. There were attempts to have royalty thrust upon them by appointing foreigners to a position called the king/queen of the Greece. Streets and buildings were named after such interlopers, but the people never held affection for such monarchs. Second, (I was waiting for this because I just knew poor old Phil would not come out of this unscathed) Phil was never a Greek and was never a royal... bad luck Phil... thank goodness Elizabeth did not find out!

You have to love people of high emotions. As far as Despina was concerned, the war against the Turks did not end in 1947 ... it is still going! One of her primary grievances arises from the fact that Turkey is not a proper country because it is only 900 years old.

The more outrageous her claims of Greek greatness, the more likeable she became. She is so proud of her cultural heritage and Greece needs lots of these types in the short term .

Lucky these guys wear underpants

The ministry for silly walks has devised an elaborate style of marching to draw in the tourists. We have been told it is of recent design (1960's or there abouts) and is of no historic significance. However, the tourists loved it so much, a 'new tradition' has been born. On our walk back to the hotel tonight, we followed the three replacement guards on their march towards Parliament house for the changing of the guards ceremony. They wear wooden shoes with metal spikes. It was interesting to hear the difference noises they made by stamping or dragging their feet to communicate with each other and to be tell pedestrians to get out of the way. (I want to be a very Greek Guard when I grow up. The uniform is really spiffy.)

Yesterday, we did the Acropolis. It is amazing for what is not there. Cast your mind back to 5th Century BC. What were your ancestors doing at that time. (Here is a question for the kiddies. Did you have ancestors at that time? Don't say you don't know... you do know the answer... you just have to think about it.) Now think of the 14th Century and all the fuss made of Michael Angelo when he carved David. Now think back to the 5th Century once more. Come on... keep up. The marble carvings all around the Parthenon were of similar quality to David. And there were hundreds of them. The fragments now being found and the samples stolen by the great Lord Elgin have been enough to convince archaeologists of the grandeur of the original work. Lord Elgin wasn't the only vandal. The early Christian invaders are also blamed for wrecking the joint. But Lord Elgin is held up to be some sort of anti-genius. He had his men climb up to the parapets (where the largest carvings were). Instead of securing the sculptures by rope and lowering them, he simply had them thrown down... and if they broke... bad luck... push the next one down and see how that one goes. His system worked. He ended up with two boat loads. He set sail back to London... but oops... one of the boats sank. You can't help bad luck. Fortunately, when back in London, he was strapped for cash and had to make a quick sale. The British Museum was the only buyer at short notice. So we have the ridiculous situation where from the one statue, an arm is in the British Museum, the broken head is in the Athens Museum and other body parts could be in New York or Rome or any other major city.

Athens Museum has made a superb effort in bringing together all the information held in all the world's museums to replicate as accurately as possible the picture of what existed in the 5th Century BC. They really had a lead on the rest of the world at that time... a lead that made the Romans look like peasants. Today, they are struggling a little. But at least they lead the world for a period... which is more than most nations can claim!

100,000,000,000 Bacteria Cohabit with You

A large man has just lent over me in an effort to reach his seat. The whiff of body odour is overpowering. We have boarded a flight out of Madrid on our way to Athens. The large man seems to be part of a connecting flight from a country not sold on the merits of deodorants. (To minimise the risk of being called a racist, I shall not mention the continent from which the interconnecting flight departed.)

If you were to study up on the latest research on our body's microbiome health (http://www.scientificamerican.com/blog/post.cfm?id=ten-predictions-on-the-future-of-your-microbial-health) you may find body odour less objectionable. I read the article and it didn't work for me... for me, BO is still unpleasant... but by all means, give it a go.... read up and expand your mind and your olfactor sensors.

Here is the theory! For you to live, you need the assistance of some one hundred trillion bacteria that live on our skin, in our gut and in all body crevasses. In fact, the number of these foreign critters outnumber the cells that are us... we carry around more foreign DNA than our own. As you would expect with large numbers, there are the goodies and the baddies all trying to etch out an existence by living on the food and waste that is processed through our bodies.

If this detail is making you feel squeamish, stop reading... it is not going to get any better. But if you want a more practical self-image... keep reading... and get used to the notion that you are not a single being... you are an ecosystem composed of hundreds of thousands of different organisms. These little critters do most of the digestive work in your stomach. They break down certain foods that we digest that would be poisonous to us without their intervention. The critters that are the goodies protect us from the baddies. Some critters that are important to us also need other types of critters for them to survive. We are not the only source of survival for such critters... we need to maintain the health of a whole ecosystem for us to feel healthy.

Lets not get too academic about this. The big guy leaning over me on this flight has a healthy ecosystem existing under his armpits. His critters are feasting on his perspiration and the by-product of bacterial activity results in an odour being emitted. Two consequences follow. This big guy will not suffer any skin ailments in the area under his arms. The ecosystem of bacteria is strong and the goodies bacteria are healthy enough to withstand and attempts from any baddies to take over. The second consequence is that I have to hold my nose when he leans over. (Of course my reaction is completely off the mark... I should be complementing him on his healthy armpits.)

Now here's the squeamish part. Have you noticed that while some of your friends have bad odour, some of your friends have body odour that isn't too bad... and a small number of friends have body odour that isn't offensive at all... I hesitate to say it smells good... but its well along that spectrum. The colony of bacteria under your arm is different from the colony under my arm and different from the colony under the arm of the friend with good body odour. The article referenced above, makes the prediction that in the near future, your friend with good body odour will be in demand. Cosmetic companies will be wanting to grow cultures of his/her underarm bacteria colonies and sell them to you to put under your arm so that your colony can produce less offensive odours. Today's underarm deodorants kill the offending bacteria... but in the process kill off a range of good bacteria that protect our skin from bad bacteria. Tomorrow, we will wipe our underarms with bacteria that produce good odour but also built up our protection against skin diseases.

Here is the take out! Next time you are near a friend who smells good, say to them... you have a great colony of underarm bacteria. I wouldn't mind getting a culture from you when you have the time.

Just a thought! Hope this flight lands soon. I need some fresh air.

We met up with an old friend from Bucaco

The hotel in Bucaco (Palace of Bussaco) featured the architecture of Luigi Manini. We were mesmerised by his decoration in marble... particularly his over mantle in the lounge room. Well, yesterday at the Palace of Sintra we saw where he practiced his over mantle design skills. The Royals of the day must have liked his work to commission him for the Bussaco job. He didn't change too many details. Yesterday, we were also impressed by his work in carving a stork (it is visible in the photo of the over mantle - in corner of room). In case you are interested, photos are attached below.

Tonight, we are back in Madrid in a hotel close to the airport. Tomorrow is an early start to travel to Athens. Hope this message finds you well and happy.

The Answer is Blowing in the Wind

Tomorrow, we catch a flight back to Madrid for an overnight stay and then travel to Greece (Athens). We have had a great time in Portugal. It's one of the poorest countries in the EU and will probably remain so for a while. There isn't much sign of poverty... the fact they are borrowed up to the hilt doesn't show on the faces of people. They look happy and positive. The proportion of youth is noticeably low... probably a proportion are seeking employment in other EU countries. The prices off the main tourist drags are low and there are always lots of people to provide service. This probably means wages are very low.

Portugal has invested much of its recent borrowings into a 'first class' road system. The whole coastal strip has deep gorges running right down to the sea. Without hundreds of million dollar bridges, the country would certainly remain stuck in poverty. Nearly all express-ways have tolls that are too expensive for the typical Portuguese citizen to use. We would drive for miles without having to share these magnificent structures. Arguably, they over spent on some junctions with minor roads... no doubt local politics played a role there. Also its worth mentioning the high priority Portuguese have given to tertiary education. For a country with little agriculture or mining, their future path seems to lie along having a highly skilled workforce. (Many other countries are being forced to follow similar strategies, so they will need a lot of luck.)

Portuguese melancholia comes from missed opportunities during the 'Victorian' period. In its days of empire, Portugal was awash with money. Brazil was digging up gold faster than any other nation... and all this gold went straight to Portugal. And how did Portugal spend its wealth? Basically, they went long on investments in churches and palaces. With the benefit of hindsight, you could question if this was the best choice. This is where Bob Dylan adds some relevant philosophy. How many churches do you need to make your people pious? How much gold leaf do you need on an altar to keep God on your side. How many crucifixes are needed to provide miracle cures and protection against hunger? How many palaces do you need to show that you are rich? (I think you've got the drift.) If Portugal had invested as much into education as they did in theology, they could have remained a world power. Alternatively, they could have continued to invest in shipping. (Their first big bonanza resulted from inventing sails that allowed their ships to tack into the breeze better than any other nation. Simultaneously, they invested in espionage that gave them the best maps in the world.)

So, we say farewell to Portugal having enjoyed its hospitality, but learning only enough to realise how little we understand about the place. They are lovely warm people... seeing men kiss each other on the lips as a form of greeting sort of clarified the warmth aspect. We hope we can return in the not too distant future.

Nearing the end of Portugal

<p dir="ltr">We are now at Sintra... our final destination in Portugal. We have the full day tomorrow to complete our coverage of this area... there is a lot to see. This afternoon, we did the high-profile destinations... the Palace National of Sintra in the old city area, the Palace of Pena on the hill and the Moorish Castle (of course, also on top of a hill). You are probably thinking... 'same old same old' . Well, you are wrong... dead wrong. The proper form of address should be 'same but different'. Lets deal with the sites in chronological order. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The Moorish Castle is the first of its kind that we have seen largely in tack. As mentioned last week, the Christians made a point of eradicating the Moorish record as much as they could. In particular, upon conquering a Moorish castle or town, the first job was to dismantle the mosque and rebuild a church with the building material. Perhaps, the reason they left the Sintra castle was its extreme position. The Christians would not have wanted to build a Town on the castle site. I can't imagine how the Christians captured this site. Its geography makes it impenetrable. Perhaps, by the time the battles reach Sintra, the Moors had already given up and were on their way home. However, when building the Castle, who provided the engineering advice? There are some pretty big blocks of stone sitting high on the castle wall. To get the stone up there and set it in a manner that it could survive the 1755 earthquake leads you to believe these simple Berber folk from Morocco knew a thing or two about engineering. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Next, the folly... the spoilt simple minded rulers who could think of nothing better to do with a country's wealth than to build a summer retreat that pampered to every excess of the royal family. The problem being solved was that Lisbon gets hot in summer. So the court needed to move up to a hill that offered some humidity (keep the temperature down) and caught the onshore winds. Don Fernando II was King Consul... not even a proper King. He fancied himself as the Artist-King but left mountains of evidence that he was really the Silly-King. His reign was from 1836-1853. By this stage of history, he should have known better. </p>

The third of our visits was to the Palace National of Sintra. The Silly-King had left his mark and departed this mortal coil. Sintra was still an important centre of political power. A sensible Palace was built to conduct the affairs of state... in the city square... of a grandeur appropriate for a rural retreat of government. The tourists don't like visiting it as much... but it certainly gave the tax payers of the day much better value for money.

 

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