One of the desires for a holiday is to be the people that live in the country. See what they see, do what they do. It was certainly true for me, someone interested in Greek culture since I was fourteen and studying Ancient Greek in lunchtimes at school.
Ice cream for breakfast? That was the reality this morning. Waffles with two scoops of chocolate ice cream, washed down with fresh orange juice and water. I was looking out over the light flooded swimming pool as I ate.
For afters, there was a little walk in the gardens of the hotel I’m at, the Margarita. And also a quick look at the quaint white and blue church against the sky that faces the hotel.
I went into my room to watch some Instagram videos and a taxi drive to Parikia was next on the cards. It was a full thirty minutes late. The hotel was phoning them up to find out where they were. They mixed up the reservation. When we arrived at Parikia, they also charged a lot. I had to go to an ATM to get more cash to pay the guy. Obviously, I didn’t tip the driver.
The ride to Parikia was fun though, looking into the beautiful hills, white houses and the life of rural Greece.
On arrival, I immediately headed into the main cathedral in Parikia, Paros, the Holy Shrine of the Virgin Mary Ekatontapyliani (often called the Church of 100 Doors). Either Saint Helen or Emperor Constantine the Great founded the original 4th-century basilica and later 6th-century modifications were by the grace of Emperor Justinian.
The name Ekatontapyliani means “of a hundred gates”. According to tradition, the complex has 99 visible doors and one hidden, secret door that will reportedly open only when the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople (Istanbul) becomes Orthodox again.
There was a French family being led by their matriarch inside on a tour, a guy that was clearly mentally challenged and almost knocked me over and a worker who told me that I could take photos but not too many when I asked her permission.
It was a wonderful sight inside, so much to look at and see, from the crucifixion to the paintings to the awesome roof and architecture.
I called up my girlfriend next while I walked in the small but picturesque grove of Mediterranean stone pines (Pinus pinea), or umbrella pines, growing next to the cathedral and spent a while there after the call too.
The archaeological museum was right there and very inexpensive. I tried to get a discount as I am a student but the assistant at the counter said it depended what my age was as a student. I told him and it turned out that he had thought I was fifteen years younger than I was and might have been eligible. It’s a fact. I look a lot younger than I am.
The museum featured quite a bit about the poet Archilochus of Paros (c. 680–645 BCE, who was also a warrior who died in battle and the supposed inventor of personal, raw poetry. Rumour has it that his mother was a slave.
Unlike Homer, who sang about grand, untouchable gods and heroes, Archilochus wrote about himself—his loves, hangovers, money troubles, and disgust with fake military glory. He practically invented iambic satire. Legend says that after an engagement to a woman named Neobule was called off by her father Lycambes, Archilochus wrote such vicious, stinging insults that the family supposedly hanged themselves in shame.
They had the first found statue of Medusa there. It was a moment of awe to stand looking at it. I also explained it in French to a mother with a child in a pram and she was captived by it and spent a long time looking at it and then getting her husband to translate the English curator label to her. Beautiful vases were there as well as wonderful designs from the past.
Other highlights included looking at the coinage, with the Athenian owl obols. Some of the coins were so tiny! There was a wonderful amulet of dancing figures, a beautiful vase with horses, and another vase with great art that had housed a child burial (or cremation, I don’t know). Quite a few highlights there were on loan. Not only is archaeology in fragments and incomplete or relating to an invisible whole, but the pieces being on loan literally made them invisible, adding to the mystique of the ancient.
Went to a tourist information centre, spoke to the nice woman there and got lots of maps with a beautiful free booklet about the area that I will treasure as a keepsake.
I was really famished and walked through the Old Town looking for a meal. I found a cheap meal and drink for four Euros at Ragoussis Bakery, an iconic bakery, pastry shop, and café. Operating for over a century, this popular establishment is highly regarded for its wide selection of fresh breads, traditional Greek pastries, sweet treats, and savory snacks. I had a small grilled chicken, cheese, tomato and lettuce sandwich with water. The waitress that took a photo of me when I asked her was joking about photography afterwards with another woman that worked there in Greek.
I walked through the Old Town and bought a beautiful spinning top and heart souvenir done in Olive wood at the Olive Tree. There were beautiful pieces there like chess sets and mazes. I was talking to the owner and he told me that the wood was sustainably sourced from coppicing the olive trees, which helps them grow.
Did the old castle (Kastro) and went to the site of the archaic temple of Athena where there was now a locked church and a beautiful view of the sea. There was a French and Belgian couple there who I took photos of, so they took photos of me too. They were very friendly.
Another ice cream? After the one in the morning? Yes. I got a cheap Magnum Double Caramel from a convenience store. With the cheap lunch and ice cream, I was making up for the rip off taxi fare. I saved about twenty Euros that I would have otherwise spent on food. Economy, economy, economy. It’s the inheritance of being raised by the poor and having lived as a poor person.
The next stop was the beach and bouldering. Great fun and free to do anywhere in the world. I also went up on a small pier which meant taking my shoes off and getting my feet wet. The water wasn’t super cold today. I’ve done it now. I’ve become one with the Grecian sea. Had an Amati sour cherry juice there. It must be a popular drink. One of the fishermen there was also drinking it. There were lots of windmills there that I took photos of and the breakwater boulders I climbed on led out from the windmill.
Went into the small church next to the Central square where there was an older guy in spectacles taking infinite pains to clean the floor, milimetre by millimetre. Was he physically or mentally challenged? Was he devout or fanatical? Who knows. He completely ignored me as he was engrossed in the task.
Sat in the square admiring the Mediterranean garden. Photographed the Archilochus statue, reading the Greek inscription (no English). Browsed in the bookstore looking at Greek translations of Harry Potter and Skandar the Unicorn Thief. In the souvenir shop at the corner, the attractive woman there who was around my age started singing to the Greek song on the radio which was a private performance just for me!
Went to the absolutely stunning Paros Byzantine Museum located right next to the cathedral. It had historic icons, wood carvings, and ecclesiastical relics. Achingly beautiful things including an icon of John the Baptist and a beautiful and inspiring seventeenth century altar (alas, no photos allowed). I studied the Byzantine artwork picking up tricks for my own art. Many of the geometric costumes reminded me of the work of Gustav Klimt and ‘The Kiss’.
Bumped into an American couple that I had come in with at the port. The guy was super friendly, the woman entirely silent. They were on their honeymoon. He recognised me and seemed a great guy. Nice short conversation.
Dinner at the Taverna Yiannoulis (also known as Yiannoulis Taverna), a traditional Greek tavern located near the Panagia Ekatontapiliani Cathedral. I had the mixed seafood, intended for two but they modified it on request to be a serving for one. I’ve never eaten so much seafood in my life. It was colossal. Mussels, sardines, mackerel, shrimp, calamari, (swordfish fillet?), all on a bed of lettuce and I’d also ordered a side salad of tomatos and cucumber. All washed down with water. A ginger Tomcat was begging for food at the table so I threw it a few scraps, largely the heads of the sardines which I won’t eat. Dessert? Even though I was super full, I had it and wolfed it down. Greek yoghurt with honey and nuts. Absolutely delicious.
The soundtrack? Thanks to Shazam, I know. Se Poia Thalassa Armenizeis by Saveria Margiola. English translation: In which sea are you sailing? Also, Ine Entaxi Mazi Mou by Nina Mazani, Eleni Tsaligopoulou, and Kostas Livadas (with Papazó). On my holidays, I download a soundtrack from the trip. This was it (and also ‘Stars’ by Simply Red when I had my glorious banana split in Naxos).
Watched another glorious sunset while bouldering on the beach to work off the meal (at a different location to before).
The taxi ride to the hotel was much nicer and much cheaper. The driver was great. We talked about London, world cuisine (he was disgusted by British food but liked Indian), and he told me that I looked like I was just 26. Obviously tipped him at the end.
Shower with the awesome soaps and shampoo from yesterday. And now? Now I will relax, watch videos, music, study. I’ve got two hours before I get to sleep. And I will definitely read some poetry by Archilochus. He was raw and honest and a warrior poet like me. Said to be as great as Homer by his contemporaries.
