Day 18: Athens
We thought by getting up early we could be able to beat the tourists to the Acropolis. We were right: just not early enough.
Not quite early enough
The tour parties were already piling in as we arrived and headed up through the Temple of Athena Nike. Despite the crush and the inevitable 'restoration' work (scaffolding everywhere) the huge scale and beauty of the Parthenon and the smaller Erechteon was striking.
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The Museum had some fragments of the Elgin Marbles that Elgin hadn't nicked, plus lots of statues and columns.
Horsing around
After a quick detour to the Theatre of Dionysus to strike some classic poses, I parted company with Andy, who went off to climb a hill in the midday sun.
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I stayed in the shade of the National Gardens, home to a rather worrying sign:
Off next to the National Archeological Museum, home to myriads of ancient remains, then the historical theme to my day continued at the Greek Agora and the Roman Agora with the 8-sided 'Tower of the Winds'.
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Athens was fun to wander in - lots of streets to walk around, always unsure if round the corner you'd find a flea-market, a designer fashion outlet or another Ancient Greek ruin.
Another Ancient Greek ruin
Soon it was evening and I met up with Richard and andrew for a meal: I had the intriguingly named "Chef's Madness". One more day in Athens tomorrow before we move on.
Day 19: Athens
Over the span of human history, Man has faced many challenges - protecting himself and his family, creating fire, building shelter, building communities and great civilisations, coping with natural and man-made disasters.
Nowadays we have a pretty comfortable existence and are forced to dream up our own silly challenges. Inspired by being in Athens, home of the 1896 and 2004 Olympics, I resolved to run a lap of every Olympic Stadium in the world.
The challenge lying ahead
The 1896 stadium was an impressive piece of architecture - a massive horseshoe set into a hill, still in perfect condition 106 years after the last race had been run there.
The Olympic Stadium
I approached a man who had been busy taking photographs of the stadium and asked him if he could time me for a lap. He agreed - on the condition he could take some photos of me running round the track.
Somewhere a photo album will now be graced with a picture of me sprinting away into the distance, then returning absolutely knackered 90 seconds later. It was 11 in the morning and the sun was beating down oppressively, so after thanking my official photographer, I collapsed in the shade to recover.
Recovery in progress
With a spring in my step and a banana milkshake in my stomach, I set off on a long metro ride to the 2004 stadium. Inevitably, with 2 years still to go, this was still a work in progress. The whole site was deserted and railings stopped you getting too close to the stadium.
The 2004 stadium
A rather frustrating trip, but I would return in two years.
While I certainly am in the category of "mad dogs and Englishmen", I'm not a fan of the midday sun so I cooled off for a while in an Internet cafe, and fiddled about in my favourite real world cafe, Cafe Nero.
Later I climbed the hill of Filopappou for some amazing panoramic views of the city, Acropolis and port of Piraeus.
What a view!
I finished my 'Olympic day' with a wander round Plaka to buy another Olympic T-shirt (I can't help it!) As dusk fell, I made my way to Lycabetus Hill. A funicular whizzed me to the top, where I could see the lights across the whole city.
The end of the line
It was the end of the line. 1500 miles from Ashford to Athens in 19 days. Time to head home.
It started to pour with rain.
Day 20: Athens > Patras >
"That was the worst train ride I have ever been on" declared Richard as we finally reached Patras. While the five hours in the oppressive heat and smoky atmosphere hadn't been a bundle of fun, the hyperbole didn't really seem justified. Fourth worst maybe.
A slight misreading of the timetable on my part had happy consequences, as, instead of having to stay overnight in uninspiring Patras, we could leave on the 8pm boat, direct to Ancona.
The ship, Superfast V, was plush and comfortable, and before long anchors were weighed and we steamed off into the Adriatic as the sun set.
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...
It would have been a perfect scene, had not Richard and andrew got it into their heads that they really wanted to visit ... Guernsey, an idea of such stupidity that it rivals "Shall we try for a baby, Mrs Hitler?" Still I suppose we'll end up following their whims.
Day 21: > Ancona > Foligno > Assisi
Sleeping on deck proved more comfortable than it sounded and a breakfast of apple tart and Red Bull (memories of exams...) soon had me raring to go.
Stimulation for body and mind
Soon we were in Ancona which (despite the Rough Guide's bad write-up) had a definite charm beyond the clutter of the port.
Ancona
There wasn't much time to savour it though as we were soon on the train to Foligno.
It was festival time in Foligno, which normally would have been quite exciting, but we only had 30 minutes to find a pizza and catch our train. The crowds packed the streets, making the former impossible, so we settled for the latter.
We arrived in Assisi at nightfall, the lights of the town guiding us in the right direction. It was still a long hard trudge to the youth hostel, run by a woman who was definitely from the 'old school' of hostelling - early curfew, early breakfast (PUT YOUR CUTLERY IN THE RIGHT BIN!!!), blankets on the beds. The hostel was spotlessly clean though, and we had a room of six to ourselves.
A quick dash into Assisi finally yielded our long-overdue pizza, albeit dry; and some likeable if a bit dim Americans (Does that say London on your T-shirt? No, Ljubljana.)
Day 22: Assisi
Another
problem with writing a diary whilst on holiday is how easy it is
to drop into the language of guidebooks. Towns are always "perched"
on slopes, hills are "rolling", streets have a "quaint
charm" and the views are "stunning".
In the morning then, I explored the town of Assisi, attractively perched above the Umbrian plains in an area of rolling hills. The narrow, steep streets had a quaint charm and the view from the castle at the top was... stunning.
There, I've done it.
All roads lead...
All roads in Assisi lead to the Basilica San Francesco. From the outside, the cathedral is nothing special, a complete contrast to the interior. Every inch of wall space was covered by colourful frescos.
... to the Basilica
One of the advantages of religious services (cue boos from Richard and Andy) is how easy they are to follow in a foreign language - in this case, Latin. Going to Mass in the world's most famous cathedrals is definitely more entertaining!
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After exploring the cathedral I climbed up to the castle then back down to the main square for the first of many ice-creams.
I met up with Richard and Andy, Richard bought a €10 ice-cream (just imagine).
On good terms for once
In the evening we went to a pizzeria for our last chance at Italian dining - in my case proscioutto e melone, pizza alla schiava and vino bianco - it sounds so much nicer in Italian.
Day 23: Assisi > Perugia > Florence > Milan >
Another long walk with our seemingly heavier and heavier bags brought us to Assisi station again. I played an elaborate game of Pictionary with the woman in the ticket office to book our tickets for tonight's sleeper, then we were off on our way to Florence.
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The way the train time panned out gave
us five hours in Florence - five pretty hectic hours.
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Day 24: > Paris > Rennes > St Malo
Almost 30 hours passed between leaving Assisi and reaching our next stop: St Malo. Top put that in perspective, we could have started singing '5000 Green Bottles' on leaving Assisi and have finished with time to spare.
After the hectic hours in Florence, there was a late change in Milan on to the sleeper to Paris. Couchettes are great fun, especially when SNCF provide free breakfast in bed.
TGV
After a quick metro trip across Paris, the TGV whisked us towards Britanny and by lunchtime we were in St Malo.
Bienvenue � St Malo
Richard had promised to be happy in St Malo, but he wasn't too impressed when we discovered that ferries to Guernsey weren't quite as frequent as we had hoped. The Channel islands remain on hold for the time being.
Les bateaux
Even if St-Malo is a bit dead, it is French, so there is the compensation of good food - baguette, pate de campagne and patisseries creating the perfect picnic lunch. The campsite is situated on a picturesque peninsula with water on all sides, so the view are worth staying for anyway. I haven't yet made my mind up about St-Malo ... tomorrow may help me decide.