Last Stop - Loutraki

It was a calm, peaceful overnight cruise from Milos back to Piraeus, the port city of Athens.  Strange to be waking up to concrete buildings instead of the beautiful blue Aegean.  I patted myself on the back for having survived each and every land excursion, without injury!

The night before was our last on the Celestyal Journey; and as usual, I went to bed early - skipping the nightly entertainment on board.  I can rarely stay awake past 8, and with a room to myself I always slept well on the ship.  Only thing I missed was 24-hr coffee.

Here's something I only learned while writing this blog, from Wikipedia:

"Celestyal Journey is a cruise ship completed in 1994 and initially sailed for Holland America Line as Ryndam. In 2023 she was resold to Celestyal Cruises and renamed Celestyal Journey. "

I've picked up Holland America tiles for a couple of years now, and lo and behold, look what I've got.  2024 was also my 30th anniversary of life-and-death with Tino.  Strange how things come 'round.

The ship docked at 7am.  Following a tedious time waiting for baggage to be offloaded, we boarded pre-assigned buses for the ride to the Gulf of Corinth for our last few days.  It was an abrupt departure from all the history (we'd) seen for, what, 9 days now?  Crumbling marble and perpetual sunshine seemed normal.  I'd snapped a photo of this mosque during the taxi ride in to Athens, and here was a different perspective on the way out; seemed poetic.

I slept next to a stranger during the hour-long trip to the Club Hotel Casino Loutraki; advising her to give me a good nudge if I began to snore.

When I first booked the tour I was on a list for 'singles wanting a roommate' to save money, but I really wanted a room to myself.  It was a year until the trip, so over time I justified-from-within the added expense of privacy: first the cruise, then the bookend land portions, and I'm so glad I did.

Worth every penny.  I didn't feel the need to spring the extra-extra for a balcony, but next time I take a big trip, I will...even if the weather's not great.  Less claustrophobic.

Hotel Loutraki, photo: N. Rawie

This trip was definitely a sight-seeing extravaganza, but there were a few unexpected bits of personal awareness on my part, which I've shared in previous stories.

One such time was while enjoying wine with several women with whom I'd become friendly.  We were waiting for the buffet to open and the conversation was, as often goes with women, all over the place (why can't men follow those?).  At one point, Judy turned to me and asked what I was the most proud of in my life (for new readers, I'm 69), and I was surprised by my spontaneous answer:

"The 9 months I volunteered at Community First," the tiny-home village in Austin for the chronically homeless.  I was kinda crazy at the time from years of struggling and depression, searching for a safe, affordable place to live.  By accident I found CFV, and it was the most selfless, consequential time in my life; wish I'd appreciated that at the time.  So yes, I took note of my quick, telling response.

I skipped Toccata's last concert in Vouleftiko Nafplio, or the First Parliment of Nafplio, so I wasn't in this photo.  But from all accounts, the 8pm concert was the best of the tour, with the best acoustics.  I was worn out from the tour and didn't think I could manage the climb to the venue, not to mention staying up until 11pm.

Instead, I took a long, flat walk along the Gulf of Corinth to the nearby town of Loutraki, a popular seaside destination.  It was around 4pm so most cafes were still closed.  I didn't care, I like exploring.

But it was hot as hell and I was wearing the black, long-sleeved Toccata shirt, what was I thinking?  There was a narrow boardwalk, as you see; interrupted a bit by repairs.

I turned away from the sea into some shade, and within one block the place looked less touristy.  Easter would be arriving shortly and the street was decorated for the occasion.

A small shop with homemade items in the window caught my attention, and I bought a 14" candle decorated with ribbon and a charm; totally impractical, but I figured if it got broken on the way home, I'd have a pair.

I figured I'd better head back towards the sea before I got lost, again.  I spotted yet another resistance monument with interesting looking statues, and followed my feet.

The monument is in memory of the Loutraki soldiers of the Greek resistance, killed in WWII, whose names are inscribed on the plinth.  The monument depicts three statues:  Peace, on top; Democracy, right, and Justice on the left (not shown).

From there I spotted shady little Park Irene; this from Greeker than the Greeks:

"Park Irene, sandwiched between the sea and the main street, located in the older part of Loutraki, is built on reclaimed land after the terrible earthquake of 1928.  Rubble from destroyed buildings was used to create what is now a lush, green, haven of  magnificent eucalyptus, pine, palm, oleander and jacaranda trees."

Shaded by said trees, I sat down, yanked off my shirt (I wore a tank underneath) and ordered a beer.  This is what arrived for 5 euros, a little over 5 bucks.  The long bag is holding my long candle.

I nursed that beer for as long as I could while watching local life.  Grandparents with kids on big toys; families and friends chatting quietly; ahhh, this is what traveling is about.  Pretzels and olives, too!

My final day was spent relaxing by the pool in one of the cabanas.  There was a nice dinner reception planned for the evening, with traditional Greek dancing. Maestro James was honored, and I finally got a chance to wear my long, blue-and-white casual dress and didn't trip once on the beach-walk home. Everyone had good cheer.

The next morning was an early-to-rise, for room checkout was 5:30 and the buses to the airport left at 6.  The hotel provided brown bags of food which was very nice, except most of what they included we couldn't possibly eat prior-to or take on board.

My bags were the last loaded so the first unloaded, and when the bus finally opened the doors I literally FLEW out, grabbed my bags and ran inside the airport.  My flight was at an earlier time than most of the Reno crowd.  Naturally, inside the airport I got lost, missed the security checkpoint, and eventually returned to the bus drop-off area.  Judi and Dawn were orienting themselves so at least I got a chance for a final farewell to two of my favorite tour buddies.

I headed home via Munich, where I picked up a bag of candies I'd always enjoyed.  In the 1970s, all the Mon Cheris, Mozarts and the like contained liqueur, and you could buy them on supermarket shelves.  No matter, nostalgia is nostalgia.

The flights were uneventful - fuller, but no screaming babies.  On the Munich to Vancouver BC flight I sat with a young man from Ukraine, who moved to Vancouver years ago.  Between us was a pet carrier with the largest cat I've seen.  Kitty belonged to his girlfriend, who fled Ukraine in the early days of the war but had to leave her cat behind with friends.  This fellow flew to Munich, rented a car, drove through Poland and into Ukraine to retrieve her cat, imagine.

At the time, Congress was holding up funds for Ukraine, and I apologized for that.  His parents remained in Kharkiv, and when I asked why he said they owned a business, and others were depending on them.  I offered the best wishes and hopes I could muster.  That was in April, and I often think of Yuri's family and hope they've survived the bombings.

I arrived back in Portland at midnight, and called the hotel where I'd stayed the night before departing Oregon.  Being unfamiliar with modern traveling, I was happy to learn about hotel room-bookends, which included free parking and 24 hr airport transfers.

It was SO nice to splurge on myself like I did.  Another example of Living Rich Without Money.  This seems an abrupt ending to such a memorable trip, but I'll just have to close with my overall impression:

"Thaumastos!" (Transl: wonderful, marvellous. worthy of pious admiration, admirable, excellent)

Follow-Up to come, including How-to Pack for Two Weeks in Greece (or what not to pack); and a Newbie's Guide for Life on a Cruise

From the beginning:  Athens and the Acropolis