GREECE TRIP APRIL 1966 - PART 4 - END OF AN ODYSSEY - MYKONOS THEN HOME

Friday 15^th April began with a visit to the National Museum in Athens. Here our party was joined by our Classics teacher, the beautiful and gracious Mrs Lesley Davis, who later gained fame by writing and publishing a new style Latin Primer which may somewhat have replaced the traditional Kennedy’s – though with the subsequent disappearance of most actual Grammar schools I wonder if Latin and/or Greek are still taught in any schools at all.

The shallowness of youth is displayed by the fact that the first memory recorded in my diary of this amazing outing is sitting outside the museum  drinking the most delicious ice cold freshly squeezed lemon juice (a fruit which, alongside oranges as big as footballs, abounded all over Greece: citrus groves bewitchingly scenting the air and donkeys grazing quietly nearby} with Misses Odder and Fry and Mrs Davis; Mrs Patrinos having gone ahead to Mykonos to prepare for our visit, as she and her Greek husband were in the throes of having a house built on that island.

But I shall redeem myself by describing some priceless masterpieces of art and culture.  I do vividly remember to this day the ‘Golden Mask of Agamemnon’, a facsimile of which is in the Mycenae museum, and a reconstructed chariot, both amazing.

There were rooms full of pottery, where I learned that red on black was earlier than black on red, and Corinthian pottery was a heavier style. An enormous and incredibly beautiful bronze statue of Zeus was impossible to miss, and we stood for probably longer than strictly necessary admiring his exquisite form. An unexpectedly fascinating item was a bronze statue of a fit young jockey on a galloping horse, looking almost modern.

Having satisfied our thirst for works of art as well as iced citrus drinks, we spent the afternoon once again in the vicinity of the Acropolis.  We just couldn’t get enough of it; there followed a visit to the neighbouring Theatre of Dionysus (cue singing ‘We’re all going on a Summer Holiday’ yet again) which is considered to be the first example of a Greek theatre and the birthplace of Greek drama (cue certain scholars throwing selves dramatically to the ground and wailing ‘hoi moi’ ‘woe is me’). We also reacquainted ourselves with previously mentioned Greek lads – addresses exchanged and farewells said.

We retired early that evening as we were off to Mykonos for 4 days R&R.

Next morning, Saturday 16^th April, we sorted out the luggage we needed in Mykonos (mainly bikinis, shorts and underwear), and left the rest in the hotel storage area.  We took the horridly crowded tube train (new then I believe) from Ommonia Square to Piraeus, Athens’ harbour where we boarded the Despoina bound for Mykonos. The boat left at midday and was due to arrive at Mykonos at around 8.30 p.m. It was very crowded, and we had to sit on the floor or should I say deck, which smelt of fish – leading us to suspect it had a dual purpose.  Remembering my dislike of water and boats I was rather looking forward to reaching our destination pronto, especially after sampling the loo, a small, smelly cupboard-like structure!

En route, having been entertained by our resident comedienne Sue Reed with her Malcolm Muggeridge impersonation, we made a stop at the little island of Tinos, where on the quayside we were pounced upon by vendors sporting large baskets of delicious home-made nougat and Turkish Delight, of every flavour you could imagine. Much of our pocket money was handed over as we bought loads of the stuff ostensibly to take home as gifts; but I doubt much of it actually got as far as the UK.

Hours later we arrived at Mykonos, tired and slightly bilious, where we disembarked via a very wobbly gangplank gingerly carrying our purchases and luggage, which was then stored precariously on the cabin roof of – horror of horrors – small motor launches which eventually deposited us on the Mykonos quayside. Through my terrified half-closed eyes I could see the island looked very beautiful, a magical place of gleaming white walls and quiet roads, pretty churches and little white windmills behind the beautiful beaches.  And hardly a person in sight: this was 1966, and Mykonos had not yet been discovered as a popular holiday destination, and later a nudist playground.  We were definitely going to like it here!

We made our way through the whitewashed, winding streets to the Pension Couneni, a large white house where we were to spend four nights.  The room I shared with some Sues and Jill was long and narrow, but very clean and comfortable. After a short walk down to the beautiful little harbour we had a late meal in the seafront restaurant which was to become very familiar over the next few days; I now suspect it was later the venue for shooting parts of the very successful Pauline Collins film Shirley Valentine. We reluctantly went back to our rooms tired out but looking forward to starting the serious business of sunbathing next morning. The one drawback of said restaurant was that its quiet seafront position meant no escape from the view of the fishing boats coming in and their catch of octopuses being manually dashed to death on the rocks.  This has put me off the delicacy for life.

Sunday 17^th April dawned bright and hot, and we were up early having breakfast in the fragrant Pension garden, followed by a short walk to visit one of the many beautiful little white windmills.  The town was very quiet, with very few living beings in sight – with the exception of what seemed like thousands of feral cats watching us suspiciously as they basked in the sunshine. The harbour was the noisiest place, with the comings and goings of little boats and fishermen. There we made the acquaintance the Mykonos mascot and famed tourist attraction, the pelican Petro who appeared on many of the postcards and pictures on cafe walls

 By 11 a.m. we were on the beach in our swimsuits sunbathing and swimming in the warm, clear, unbelievably blue sea. Well, I wasn’t of course swimming but did venture to dip my toes in the ‘Blue Aegean’ of the classic tales.

Having consumed our picnic lunches, we changed into clothes more appropriate for walking through the town exploring the shops.  We soon realised how easy it was to get lost in Mykonos, all the streets being brightly whitewashed and very close together. And the cats were no help. We did later attempt an evening beach outing, but it was too dark and we went back to the pension early to prepare for next day’s excursion to the sacred island of Delos.

Monday 18^th dawned bright and hot once more as we embarked on a medium sized boat bound for Delos.  I had been looking forward to this trip in spite of the means of travel; it was worth it to see the famous Lion Walk – so impressive we were almost stunned into silence - and the ruins of temples dedicated to almost every classical god.  We also climbed a considerable height to see the cave that legend says Zeus gave to Hera in which to give birth to her twins Apollo and Artemis, the sun and the moon. What a magical island and possibly my favourite expedition of the whole holiday after Mycenae.

The afternoon and the next day Tuesday 19^th were given to more R&R, sunbathing to the sound of seemingly hundreds of church bells,  shopping for fine knitted and crocheted items and generally lounging about. Wonderful.  In the evening, chaperoned by the teachers, we took the opportunity to dress up to visit the Four Muses Night Club – very oh-la-la. And most enjoyable for both students and teachers.  I believe a considerable amount of ouzo was consumed.

Next morning Wednesday 20^th, though having slightly muzzy heads we walked to different beaches, on one of which to our horror were piles of dead jellyfish, starfish, a very large dead squid and many live hermit crabs.  Needless to say, we did not linger there but continued our sunbathing on another beach with equally sparkling and totally clear water but zero dead bodies, contemplating a repeat visit to the nightclub we enjoyed yesterday. This, sadly, did not happen as we were leaving next day and the teachers were muzzier than we were, so we settled for a last moonlit walk by the sea before bed.

Next morning Thursday April 21^st we left Mykonos by boat, feeling very sad. We bagged a deck space which looked like a good spot near the funnel – wrong. We got all the oil and fuel fumes and engine noise, and the smell of fish – but on the plus side it was quite warm, though we spent an uncomfortable night made worse by boys who wouldn’t go away. We ended up dozing with one in our midst and waking up with another. No hanky-panky however I must stress.

We arrived at Piraeus at 4 a.m. on Friday 22^nd and took the tube back to our hotel for breakfast at 6 a.m. and letters from home. In the afternoon Jill and I re-visited the Acropolis (couldn’t get enough of it) and bade farewell to our Greek friends Kostos and Yiannos.

Back to the hotel, then next morning 23^rd April we gathered our belongings and took taxis to the station, where we boarded once again the Direct Orient Express (2^nd class sleepers booked through to Salzburg) and took our sad leave of Athens. It rained, so of course, being poetic young ladies we all said Athens was shedding tears for our departure. (More wailing of ‘Hoi Moi’).

We were pleased to note that our nice Greek attendant on the Direct Orient Express was the same as on the inward journey and we settled in quickly. We arrived at Gavgali at 6 a.m. and Belgrade at 6 p.m., where we had a delicious chicken dinner in the Yugoslav dining car but were later pestered by a Yugoslav Captain, seen off by our teachers who could be quite ferocious when roused.

And thus our Odyssey continued through Europe, spending our final night in our bunks on the famous train, and the day admiring the beautiful scenery passing by our windows. We had lunch in the station buffet at Salzburg, where we waved goodbye to the DOE and joined the less swanky Arlberg Express. We stopped for 3 hours at Schwarzach-St-Veit where we collected picnics from girls in national costume, and walked up into the hills round the pretty fairy-tale village.

Arriving at Basle just before midnight, we changed trains and flopped into our couchettes (so uncomfortable – we were now used to better things!) arriving at Calais just before midday on Monday 25^th April. We lunched aboard the Folkestone steamer and arrived at London Victoria at 4 in the afternoon, tired and with a mixture of emotions, sad that what was probably for most of us the journey of a lifetime was now coming to an end.

However I vividly remember perking up on seeing my lovely Dad at the front of the crowd of parents awaiting our arrival; then my Mum with my little sister jumping up and down – with everyone waving excitedly then remarking on how brown we all were!

After all, it had been snowing in good old London town!