Olympia, Greece. Oh, this place is special. The image above is the original winged victory. That’s Nike. (Does that word look familiar?) She used to be popped up on a triangular pillar in the heart of the original Olympic village, but now she’s faceless in a museum.
Nothing says cultural appropriation like Olympus. Apollo is now Zeus. Hadrian has a statue or two, as does Nero. And this is the point where I could kick myself for having an old brain. I was one of a handful of students around 1978 who had the option of mythology for a semester class in high school. I learned it. I just don’t always remember it. (Tom did, too. Same high school; different instructor. He doesn’t remember everything either.) So we’re walking THE OLYMPIC VILLAGE and you see the tunnel they ran through to the cheers of the crowd (just like our athletes do today), and you see the housing spots and the training rooms (in one dimension), and you pretend to start off on the race field (Yep. You’ll have that video before you know it.), and you even see where they light the flame for every Olympic since 1936. It’s very special.
And this is where, when Tom reads today’s entry, he’ll look at me and say, ”Huh?” Because all I see is bread and circuses. Why all this effort for a few guys who can run?
But then, and I say this with affection, you will see that Tom wore his Giannis jersey today. Finally, in Olympia, it was recognized. The first place was the grill (restaurant) where we ate last night. It was good. It was inexpensive. We went back. An since he had his jersey on, the waiter, who recognized us as repeat customers, was pleased to affirm, ”He’s the best player in the NBA.” And there were smiles all around. We explained that we live in Milwaukee. He was surprised and pleased. Then the waiter told us that Giannis’s brother, Thanasis, had actually eaten at the restaurant where we were having lunch. Again: Grins all around.
Then I changed shirts in the parking lot. Years of changing clothes backstage trained me for this afternoon. I can pull this off without showing an inch of flesh. The older man (meaning someone my age) across the street was staring me down, but I pulled it off. I changed shoes, too, but that probably wasn’t as exciting.
The driving today was coastline and mountain, which means it was fun. It’s also challenging in a stick, but either one of us can handle it. Yesterday we watched a policeman stand in the road and point to a young woman who had passed us. She pulled over. We moved on. Of course, in the interest of safety and fewer traffic tickets, I reminded my dear husband at multiple opportunities that as he wrangled a quick pass or exceeded the speed limit in a small town, he could find a police officer pointing at him to stop.
1) I am still alive. Whew.
2) I am not kidding. We have paid international speed/parking tickets in the past!
(That needs a post of its own.)
So we found our way to our place near Kardamyli. We’re hanging off a cliff to view the most incredible cove ever. We found our way to a grocery store because who wants to drive these roads at night! And we do have a kitchenette for our 110E ish two-room bungalow. And if you ever want to stay luxurious/primitive, stay here. (But here will wait until I edit.)
There’s an evil eye that I should tap each time I leave the bungalow.
Welcome to Greece.
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