Beaucoup de Voyageurs

For many of my “reflections” posts, I always encourage people to travel, to experience other cultures, to try something new — even if it’s not so far away. People appear to have done this in a big way. While I certainly can’t take credit for people traveling en masse (I do after all only have three readers), I feel it necessary to add some qualifications to this travel boom. It has become clear to Nicole and I that there is such a thing as too much tourism — a breaking point if you will, not just for us, but for the destinations themselves.

 While we were away, I was reading an article about the construction of a new airport near Machu Picchu. As it stands now, Cuzco has been the gateway to the Sacred Valley, and the act of just making it to Machu Picchu has made the experience that much richer because it simply isn’t . . .simple. Whether one hikes the Inca Trail or takes the train, it has been part of the experience. And in spite of these efforts, it certainly hasn’t prevented people from showing up in large numbers. Nicole and I visited during the offseason, when the Inca Trail was closed, and the train from Cuzco was not running the entire distance. And yet, Machu Picchu was overrun by tourists. The new airport isn’t even that much closer. It is not like 777s are landing a couple miles from the site. Anyone who has seen the surrounding terrain knows this would be impossible. The concerns about low-flying aircraft disturbing the ruins may be a bit overstated as well. I think most articles about the new airport are missing the biggest point. A new airport, one with longer runways that can accomodate larger aircraft directly from the United States is pure greed. Without the airport, 15,000 people are visiting the ruins every day in high season, twice the maximum number recommended by UNESCO. Peru has taken virtually no steps to protect its tourism cash cow because it makes them a lot of money. While it is a beautiful location, I must admit that my last visit was very frustrating. There were simply TOO MANY PEOPLE.

 While Peru is condemning its most famous ruins to almost certain destruction, some cities in Europe are trying different tactics. Cities like Venice and Amsterdam have reached breaking points. Amsterdam has dismantled its famous sign that countless tourists have taken selfies in front of. They are trying to disperse the hordes to other areas of the city, or even other areas of the country. They are also trying to appeal to a “different” type of tourist. Many come to Amsterdam to drink, smoke pot, and have a “good time.” This has led to arrests and harassment in the red-light district. Clearly there is a problem.

    So if we go back to our most recent trip, I observed some things that I find a bit concerning. Santorini no longer has the capability to sustain the throngs of people that clog its narrow streets every day. At any given time during our stay, there were at least two cruise ships docked just offshore. In high season, that number can quickly rise to five. The Santorini airport has more than 23 flights a day from Athens alone plus countless others from cities all over Europe. If you have seen the airport, you would wonder how any of this is physically possible. Its terminal is smaller than Durango Regional Airport in Colorado, which has maybe 3-4 flights a day total. All of these people arriving by ship, aircraft, and ferry soon crowd the two main towns of the island. If one person stops to take a picture, look at a menu, or simply look around confused, the 200 people behind them must also stop. It is not an enjoyable situation. And yet, what is my point? Avoid Santorini? I can’t in good faith tell people not to go to the most famous Greek isle. If a person were to book a trip to the Greek Islands and not go to Santorini, all of their peers would question their judgment because all of their peers are jerks who are perpetuating the myth that Santorini is amazing. While I agree Santorini has the potential to be amazing, in its current state, it is a chlostrophobic’s nightmare and a selfie-taker’s photo op at best. And that’s really the problem. People find ways to crop the crowds out and take that perfect selfie with the blue domes and the sun-kissed white buildings perched on the cliffside. They share it on facebook or Instagram and all their friends can “like” it and be jealous. What they don’t show is the line behind them to take the same selfie, or the fact that their choice to wear a sundress and wide-brimmed hat wasn’t actually thoughtful because it’s 50 degrees and the wind is gusting at 30mph over the cliffs. BUT to take a selfie with a puffy jacket and jeans would spoil the myth and surely wouldn’t impress their friends.

 When Nicole and I got to Paros, it was like our vacation had begun (some five days after we left Los Angeles). Perhaps it is coincidence, but more likely it is that we were someplace real. We saw homes with laundry hanging across alleyways, kids hanging out by a school, old men sharing a smoke at a taverna. It sounds absurd, but you don’t actually see any of this in Santorini. All you see are other tourists. And my whole point in encouraging travel in the past was for people to experience something new. How can this happen in a place where so many other people are just the same? When we picked up the rental car in Santorini, the agent looked at my license and said, “Lots of people from California this week.” My face sunk a little. They were probably the people in the sundresses and wide-brimmed hats taking selfies. Californians are really good at perpetuating myths about good weather. It’s been the worst weather in Southern California in decades. It never rains in Southern California? I’ve shot more instrument approaches into LAX because of bad weather than any other airport this year. We are 15 degrees below our average temperature, and have seen fewer days of sun this year than any other time since I moved to Los Angeles. You wouldn’t know any of this because Sundress McGee, who interestingly enough was also a contestant on ABC’s The Bachelor, has led you to believe that SoCal is perpetually 75, sunny, and perfect beach weather ALL THE TIME.

 Santorini is of course an extreme example of overcrowding, but even places like Taormina, a town you’ve probably never heard of, is overrun by tourism. But Taormina is an interesting example because it was impossible to walk and all of a sudden it was deserted. It is packed between the hours of 11am-8pm, and then nothing. Clearly none of the tour groups stay in town and instead all arrive at the same time at 11am. In the morning, the guy working the gelato shop looked very bored. Three hours later, he looked like he was questioning all of his life’s decisions that led him to this point. So the solution, at least to Taormina, is perhaps some staggering of the tour groups. Crowding in larger cities like New York, London, or Paris is to be expected, but these cities can typically handle it. I really don’t like being in a crowd, but it makes sense when you’re in a city of millions. It’s a problem when you’re in a small town and 10,000 people are inexplicably showing up like it’s the staging area for D-Day.

 So what then is the solution? The only way toward improving the situation is for leaders to make some unpopular and difficult choices. UNESCO, as an organization has made a list of places that it deems worthy of protection, and has set forth some guidelines for local leaders to ensure their sustainability. UNESCO sites are numerous and range from things like national parks to points of historical importance to towns that just look cute like Québec City or Guanajuato, Mexico. The government of Peru clearly doesn’t care what UNESCO thinks and has elected to take the side of money over preservation of a historical monument. And to a point, you have to understand their line of thinking (as flawed as it may be). And yet, they could have taken steps to limit the number of visitors without sacrificing the popularity of their most treasured attraction. For the extreme opposite example, I direct you to Coyote Buttes North, but you may know it as “The Wave.” And if you don’t recognize that name, you’ve definitely seen photos of it in National Geographic or over some motivational poster or just hanging in your doctor’s office. The unique wavy rock formations have intrigued many and people must ask, “Where is that?” Unfortunately, it’s not easy to get to. Sure, it’s in the middle of the desert, but that’s not the hard part. Not just anyone gets the privilege to hike the three miles on an unmarked trail across a flash flood zone to “the wave.” You literally have to win the lottery. You see,in an effort to limit the human effects on the fragile environment, the National Park service has limited the number of daily hikers. You must apply online months ahead of time (and pay a fee for the trouble), only to be rejected in an impersonal email that tells you how unlucky you were.  Coyote Buttes North, the coolest thing you’ll never see, and the true meaning of wanderlust.  

 While “The Wave,” is certainly an extreme example, it could be a guideline for other overcrowded places. I visited the temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia some eight years ago. At that point in time, there were crowds, but never did I feel that it was overcrowded. Judging by my facebook and instagram feed, that has changed. Cambodia requires a tourist visa that you must apply for ahead of time online. Would it be too much trouble to have an additional step in the process to apply for access to the temples? This way the number of visitors can be regulated, but people won’t get turned around at the gates either. Thailand had to shut down its most famous beach last year because people destroyed the coral, trashed it, and literally killed anything that made the beach pristine and beautiful in the first place. Palau in Micronesia has added an environmental protection tax to all flights arriving on the island to help save what’s left of places like Jellyfish lake. There are numerous ways to combat the issues of excess tourism, but it seems that nobody wants to act until it’s too late. Is it impossible to limit Santorini to one cruise ship a day? Maybe. And on the flip side, if those other cruise ships start going to other islands in place of Santorini, then those islands will be ruined as well. Should Santorini (and its overcrowded cousin Mykonos) be sacrificed to save a dozen others? It is a moral quandary that I don’t care to partake in.

 As a result of our experiences, Nicole and I are increasingly flocking toward the more obscure, hidden wonders of this planet. This is not just because we hate being around people and popular destinations, but we actually have had our most cherished memories in places like Bosnia or Sri Lanka. People often judge some of our choices. “You’ll get your car stolen in Albania!,” “Why would you ever go to Belfast? Dublin’s where it’s at!,” or “Aren’t the Vietnamese still mad at us?” are just a few things we have heard over the years. You could say we’re doing our part to achieve the Amsterdam goal of dispersing tourists to lesser known destinations. Next month, we will be going to cheer on the U.S. women’s soccer team at the World Cup in France, but it won’t be in Paris. It will be in Reims, a small town to the east that doesn’t even have its own airport. But Nicole and I have the fortune to be making choices like that. If someone hasn’t been to France before, they would have to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and eat baguettes on the Champs-Elysées. We have the luxury to say no to all that, a luxury that I promise will never be taken for granted. And maybe it is because Nicole and I have had this crazy fortune to have been to so many places that only now do we realize issues like . . .crowds. Maybe a first-time visitor just accepts their fate and knows no different, and is still somehow able to actually enjoy the experience. Kudos to them for being able to pull that off. Unfortunately for us, the spoiled celebrity couple you know as Bricole, that time has passed and I think it will be some time before we end up in a super popular tourist destination again. Well, at least we’ll always have Paris.  

Geneva

We woke up this morning to grey skies and rain in the forecast — a perfect day to leave. We had a 45 minute drive ahead of us and the Sicilian drivers did not disappoint during their last chance to drive like maniacs. Despite their best efforts, we arrived intact at the rental car drop-off. That being said, the Catania Airport did its best to disappoint us on our way out. The bathrooms had no soap. I looked up the Italian word for soap on my phone and Nicole actually told two cleaners that it needed to be replenished, but they just went back to their cell phones. No urgency here — just a lot of people with dirty hands walking around the Catania Airport. 

 We got seats on Swiss Airlines to Geneva, Switzerland on a new Bombardier C-Series airplane, which is less than a couple years old. We were treated to a small sandwich and a Swiss chocolate during our flight north. It was very clear upon landing that the Swiss had greater emphasis on efficiency and organization. We were out of the airport within 15 minutes of landing. Transfers to the city center via train are free and we would soon appreciate this much more than we did initially. Geneva is one of the most expensive cities in the world. We searched on our phones for a restaurant for dinner. It was virtually impossible to find anything under $25. And I’m not talking fondue and filet mignon. Things like a croque monsieur or a club sandwich at a casual café were pushing $30. We did not understand. With a few options in mind, we set out on the streets.   

 Geneva is a fairly small city, so there isn’t a ton to do. I kind of wanted to check out the Red Cross Museum, but it was closing soon and not that easy to get to. We walked down to Lake Geneva instead, only to discover that they apparently turned off the #1 attraction in the city — a giant jet of water spraying into the sky. It was sprinkling a little bit and we didn’t know if that was a factor. We shortly saw the #2 attraction in the city, the horlage, or a big clock with flowers around it. We began searching the streets for a cheap place to eat and kept striking out. It was about 6:00pm and things were either just closing, just opening, or at some awkward phase in between. It began raining fairly hard, so desperation was sinking in. We found a burger place that had literally opened three days earlier. There weren’t many reviews, but the price was right. This was a cheap meal by Geneva standards, and that means it was $50 for a 2 burgers, fries, and a beer.  

 We attempted to wait out the rain and it subsided just after we finished our meal. We walked back toward the lake to discover a now functioning fountain. Huzzah! We explored some other parts of Geneva such as the old town around the cathedral which was very quaint looking. It reminded me a lot of Québec City. There are certainly not a lot of tourists here. We saw a couple tour groups by the big clock earlier, but that was really it. We eventually worked our way back down to the lake as the sun was setting. Nicole convinced me to go on a ferris wheel. I have a bit of an irrational fear of ferris wheels. Or is it rational? Either way, we soon found ourselves hurdling toward death in a circular motion. It did however offer pretty decent views of the surrounding city and we could see the big clock from above.

 After the ferris wheel, we walked back to the other side of the river where our hotel was located. Enroute back to our hotel, we passed through the red light district, which was . . .interesting. Prostitution is legal in Switzerland, so everything was kind of out in the open. We made it back to the hotel safe and sound and packed for our journey back to the United States.

Siracusa

After surviving the various sketchy towns around Agrigento, as well as a fairly underwhelming breakfast, we set out on the open road once again. Cultural sidenote: While Italy appears to share an affinity for breakfast pastries with its northern neighbor, France, the quality is . . .not so great. There is a high degree of deception involved. Things that look like plain croissants are filled with mystery cream or cheese. That appetizing looking pain-au-chocolat lookalike is filled with eggplant (I’m not making that one up). The juices are never labeled and despite being similar colors from day to day, the flavors are somehow different. I’ve had juices that tasted like fruit punch, mango, peach, pear, and pineapple — all the same general color. None of the hotels label them. Why? Is it just to laugh at people when they make faces of surprise after their first sip? I don’t understand. Nicole is very sick of mystery pastries, and it seems to be a very Italian thing. Bonus Italian cultural tip: if you want to blend in as a driver on Italian roads, just act like each time is your first time driving a car ...ever.  

  Anyway, it was a two and a half hour drive to Syracuse (or Siracusa), so we got plenty of exposure to bad driving. At one point, an impatient driver actually drove between me and the oncoming traffic straight down the median. We made good time to Siracusa arriving around 1:00pm. We walked to the hotel we had booked, which was kind of hidden within a sketchy apartment complex. There was nobody to check us in. Nicole called a number and the guy told us to get lunch and that he’d be there at 2:00pm. We had all of our bags, and we weren’t entirely hungry either. In fact, we were quite cross with the situation. So much so that when the guy finally showed up, we told him we were canceling. I quickly booked a hotel down the street and we checked in a few minutes later. Once we finally were settled, we walked across a bridge into an area called Ortygia, which is the old historical part of the city.   

 It was nice to see the old buildings and things, but it was mixed with tour groups, school trips, and loud crowds. I think Nicole and I have simply reached that point of the trip where our patience for the cultural divide in regards to things like respect and customer service, has simply collapsed. We did a bit of tchotchke shopping and took a quick break for gelato and a beer before regrouping back at the hotel for a spell. I feel that perhaps we did not give Siracusa a fair shake at things, but the simple fact of the matter is that we have seen better. When we went out later in the evening for dinner, the crowds had dissipated a bit and the school groups and tour groups had disappeared. We were having an early dinner (at what I imagine was 8pm), and most places were deserted. We had pasta had a small restaurant and spent the rest of the evening walking around the various open squares and eating cannoli.  

 Tomorrow we leave Italy and I hate to say it, but we’re ready for it. 

Driving Around Sicily

We caught the 1150am ferry from Stromboli back to Milazzo, and made stops at pretty much all the other Aeolian Islands on the way. Fortunately, it was another smooth crossing, and we were shuttled back to our car and were soon on the open road. An hour and a half later, we arrived in Cefalu, a resort area on the coast, that is fairly dead this time of year. When we arrived, it was overcast and quite cold, but we did have a nice room with a very large balcony overlooking the ocean and the rocky shoreline. Our hotel was outside the city by a few minutes drive, so we didn’t have many food options. We drove around for a bit, getting lost in the process. Not all was lost, however, because we ended up finding a good overlook of the city. I can assure you it looks better from a distance. Up close, it was quite grungy and a bit dirty in appearance.

 We ultimately ended up stopping at a supermarket that most closely resembled an Aldi, as they didn’t have any name brand items. We got a bottle of wine for less than 2 euro, a big block of cheese, and some chocolates. The price was right. We also made a quick stop at a bakery/pizzeria type place that had sfincione, a local specialty that is essentially thick bread with sauce and other seasonings (basically a thick pizza). We came back to the hotel and ate on the balcony. The sun had now come out a little bit, which made it slightly warmer. We watched the sun set and had a relaxing evening.

 The following day, we hit the road for a long drive down the middle of the country to the southern coast to the town of Agrigento, where the Valley of the Temples is located. It is a massive complex of Greek temples, so one would think it would be easy to find the parking and ticketing area. You would be wrong. We eventually found the lot, which was really just a crudely constructed dirt plot of made-up spots. We hit up three of the main temples, starting with the Temple of Concordia, which was situated up on a hill with a good overview of the entire area. The next temple was in the best condition, and they decided to have an overturned statue of Icarus in front of it for a photo op I guess. There was one more temple down the road, but there wasn’t much to look at, just a few columns remained.

 After the temples, which provided good exercise for us, we searched for our next hotel, which was about 20 minutes outside the city and in the hills. It was difficult to find the place, then difficult to find the reception. We eventually caught the eye of an individual who was . . .staring at us. We had walked with our bags all over the property, unable to find the reception, but Eyes McGee didn’t offer any help, just his peepers. After an awkward amount of time, Eyes simply said, “Prego,” and pointed toward a building we had just been to, but had concluded was just a restaurant. We finally checked in and then went to the room, which seemed to be handicap room, but was also a loft with impossibly narrow and uneven stone steps leading to the bedroom, so we were a bit perplexed. In any event, we had a lot of space.

 We initially planned to pick up some sfincione like the previous night, as we picked up a cheap Sicilian wine an MD (the Aldi-esque supermarket), but this proved to be more challenging than expected. The nearest town was one called Realmonte, and it was quite small. There were a few pizza places and so forth, but the town had a very strange vibe...and everyone was looking at us. Clearly we were the outsiders, and everyone knew it. We continued on our way to the coast because I saw a sign for sea cliffs. It was an interesting and brief diversion from our task at hand — dinner.

 We regrouped and gave Realmonte another shot. We did eventually park the car (which is a kind of choose-your-own spot situation). There were one way streets that were not being adhered to and this was made clear by the way people were parking anywhere they saw fit. The one pizzeria we looked at had no physical door, and the deserted streets kind of creeped us out, though there was a man selling tons of garlic out the back of a truck. While this provided some comic relief, we were quick to hightail it out of the town. We ended up driving to another town about ten minutes away. This one was a bit busier and we put in an order for a couple margherita pizzas, which we had to wait 20 minutes for since they were made from scratch. We sat in the car to wait, where we watched a military truck stop and some soldiers go on patrol through the neighborhood. Nicole and I concluded that clearly we are in an area that is influenced by the mafia, and we probably bought pizza from a mob boss. 

 That being said, Nicole very much enjoyed it. We ate them as if they were sandwiches because the pizzas are never sliced in Italy and we didn’t have any utensils back at the hotel. It was a solid meal that only cost 6 euro for both pizzas. We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and eating on our outdoor patio.

Off to a Volcano!

We had one last breakfast in Taormina that consisted solely of a bulk package of croissants and noticed that the streets were fairly vacant. The influx of tourists appears to come later, around 11am and peaks in the late afternoon. This was confirmed when we were walking back to our car, and were confronted by a stampede of tour groups coming in the opposite direction. We had to come to a complete stop on a few occasions because people just wouldn’t move. Taormina is a pretty town when it’s not overrun, but there’s kind of a narrow window for that. I think Nicole and I were more than ready to get out.   

 We again braved the Sicilian drivers on our way toward Messina and ultimately Milazzo. We dealt with a bit of traffic in the city of Milazzo and observed that there’s actually no right-of-way at a traffic circle. It doesn’t matter if you’re already going around the circle, people will still fly in from the corners and cut you off. Also, nobody signals. It’s basically like driving around Florida, but fast-paced like Mario Kart (which incidentally features Italian drivers). After parking, we took a shuttle to the ferry dock and killed some time before it was ready to board. Both of us were a bit apprehensive about the boat, as we aren’t fans of the motion on the ocean, but it wasn’t too bad, just a fairly constant and predictable lurching motion as we cut through the waves.   

 We made a few stops enroute to our final destination of Stromboli. It docked at Lipari and Panarea before we arrived at our volcanic island in the mid-afternoon. People do live on this island, but the town is quite small, and the roads are virtually nonexistent, so most transportation is done by tuk tuk, golf cart, or scooter. A tuktuk dropped us off at our hotel about 1.2 km down the coast on a black sand beach. Our room is a bit dated looking, but the options are limited when spending the night on an active volcano.

 We walked around the area for a little bit and did not have to wait long before we heard a sizzling, groaning sound emanating from the mountain above us. 30 seconds later, smoke billowed out of the top. This happened again about 10 minutes later. It was pretty incredible to be so close to something that was very much active. While it is an option to climb almost all the way up to the top of the volcano and peer in from a distance, the timing of the ferries pretty much eliminated this as an option. We would also have been required to rent hiking boots and other items because they apparently refuse to let you do it in regular shoes. In spite of all this, we found our own hiking trail that led to a restaurant about 2km away from town nestled up in the hillside below the volcano.

    We ordered some beers and pizza and watched the smoke come out of the volcano at fairly regular intervals. Then the sun set and the real show began. We could now see lava spurting out and splashing down on the side of the cone. Each small eruption (or stromboli as it is also known) would last for about 5-10 seconds only, so taking pictures proved to be a bit of a challenge, but I think Nicole and I both walked away with some suitable images. I had seen lava slowly ooze into the ocean at Kilauea on the Big Island of Hawaii over 10 years ago, but seeing Stromboli physically throwing it in the air was certainly more of a spectacle. And this was all in front of us while we were sitting in the outdoor terrace of a pizza restaurant. It’s like it was part of some dinner show.

   After all of this excitement, we had to hike back to our hotel. While it was mostly downhill, the challenge came in that it was complete darkness. I had brought my flashlight from my pilot bag for just such a scenario, so we were able to illuminate the ground a little bit in front of us. If I turned it off we could see only the stars above us. We eventually found our way back to the hotel and settled in for a well-earned rest.

On to Sicily

After one last hearty breakfast on Paros, we drove off to the very small airport, where one building acted as baggage claim, car rental, check-in, waiting area, and security checkpoint. Nevertheless, there were screens showing the three flights of the day and indicated that they would be leaving from Gate 1, in case that was not apparent. It was a short hop over to Athens, where this time we were dumped off into the main terminal area, but had to exit security anyway because we had to gate check a bag. The Athens airport is inconsistent. Newark is still worse, but Athens is quite silly. We had plenty of time, however, to collect the bag, check-in for our next flight, go through security, have lunch, gate-check the bag again, and board Olympic Airways to Catania, Sicily.

   Just under two hours later, we touched down in Catania, where a school group of Italian teenagers clapped for the landing. I had bet Nicole with 95% odds that they would applaud the landing and I was not surprised. The initial feeling in Catania was a bit stressed. It was very loud in baggage claim, very busy, and the airport looked pretty beat. Locating the rental car was another challenge as it was tucked away down an alley. (We did not even rent from one of the sketchy companies that were charging only 3 euro/day. We are renting from Sixt [they charge 12 euro/day]). After getting our VW Up!, we set out on the highway north to Taormina.  

 The drivers here are a little wild. They do this thing where they’re about to pass, but then hesitate . . .for let’s say 2km, where they’re just driving down the middle of the road, straddling the median before slowly drifting into the other lane just before they would hit a car. Additionally, there are two speeds that people drive. Pedal down to the floor or coasting in neutral. So, I found myself in the unique position of passing a BMW, but then needing to really jerk back into the right lane to avoid being run down by someone doing 200kph in a Fiat Panda. After exiting the highway, going up some switchbacks (where there was traffic and a tour bus that took a wide turn and almost hit me), going up a circular parking garage, lugging our suitcases half a mile on cobblestone streets through throngs of tour groups, we finally found our apartment for the night. Nicole found us a nice restaurant outside, off the Main Street, where we could get away from the noise and chaos of the Corso Umberto (the main pedestrian street). We had red-and-white checkerboard tablecloths. I had some sort of spicy noodle pasta with breadcrumbs and sun-dried tomatoes. Nicole had pasta alla norma with eggplant. The portions were quite sizable. We were given “free” bruschetta and amaretto as well. After all of the day’s events, we each had a beer.

   We spent the rest of the evening roaming the streets, and it seems that perhaps most of the tour groups go away at night. There were still plenty of people out on the streets, but not in the numbers we had seen earlier. We looked out from the Piazza IX Aprile, where we could see a very bright moon reflecting off the sea below. We went back to the apartment, where I promptly gave in to sleep.

   The following morning, we grabbed a couple muffins across the street and walked to the Teatro Antico, or the old Greek theater (later updated by the Romans, and again updated as a concert venue by the Italians). While it is not the largest amphitheater in Sicily, it is arguably the most scenic. It is situated high in the hills overlooking the coast. While there were numerous tour groups making the rounds, the theater was big enough that people weren’t getting bunched up in the same spots.  Tourists in this town are quite annoying, though. They are very clearly American and have been pretty good at making themselves known, whether it’s talking loudly, complaining to local employees, or walking four-across through the crowded streets and stopping short. Americans are almost as bad as an Italian school group.  

 For the rest of the day, we attempted to avoid people. We went down the backstreets and alleys and found a quiet place for pizza for lunch. Later on we got some gelato and basically ran away from the main street just to have some peace. It gets a little out of control in the afternoon. 

Just Chillin’

After our adventures in Antiparos yesterday, we relaxed by the pool and went back into Naousa for dinner. We ate outside at a traditional Greek taverna. We split an oversized Greek salad, some pita and tzatziki, and I also had an oversized portion of moussaka. It was a very filling meal. And I recall from my previous visit to the Greek islands that most restaurants would give you a “free” dessert or after dinner drink. So far on Paros we are 2-for-2. We had some kind of dessert wine the first night, and a baklava-esque cake the second. I was observing other people around us getting the dessert and was concerned that they wouldn’t give one to us. That would have possibly created a scene. 

 We are almost adjusted to the 10 hour time change from Los Angeles, and woke up at a very acceptable 9:15am. We had a hearty breakfast and then drove to Kolymbithres beach, a short 10-15 min drive away. It is perhaps the most popular/famous beach in Paros, but it wasn’t overly crowded. There were some umbrellas and chairs set up, but most were unoccupied. It was no Jersey Shore (and a lot nicer). What made us want to go to the beach were the interesting rock formations that protrude all along the water and look more like some scifi movie set than a beach on Greece. The water was very clear and Caribbean-like, though as we can both attest to, it was a bit chilly still.

 After the beach we drove back to our hotel to regroup and then walked to Moraitis Winery which was conveniently located just 200m from our hotel. (Safety first) We got a wine flight of six-each. There was also an option for a flight of nine, but that seemed excessive. What are we, drunks? We had three whites, a rosé, a red, and a dessert wine. Being anything but wine connoisseurs, Nicole and I were not swirling and sniffing like some of the other folks around us. We were given a little brochure and a pencil to take notes. My notes simply listed the price of the bottle. They were actually quite reasonably priced. You would not find a bottle in Napa for 9 euro. They were good wines as a whole, though they all kind of taste the same to us—profound words about wine from the couple that got married at a winery.

 After walking back to our hotel, we relaxed for the remainder of the afternoon. For dinner, we had gyros at a more casual setting in town, sitting amongst a decidedly more local crowd. It was incidentally also our cheapest meal by far topping out at 11 euro. We did a bit of shopping afterward, and strolled around the streets just one last time before calling it a night. Tomorrow we depart for Sicily by way of Athens, the most unavoidable airport of the trip, where we will have to go out and in through security yet again. Luckily tomorrow we will have a bit more time for our connection.