Paul's Real Letter to Ephesians

If I had been St. Paul writing my letter to the Ephesians, I would have started it by saying, “Dear Brothers and Sisters, good luck keeping those souvenir shop vendors from trying to sell you Roman coins and fake Rolex watches.”

Seriously, Folks. These guys don't know the meaning of the word no. And we haven't even been to Egypt yet where the street vendors are supposed to be worse.

But what a great day we had overall. Through a website called cruisecritic.com (which connects cruisers to others on their same cruise and allows them to share ideas, etc), Bill had gotten us on a private tour of Ephesus. There were 25 of us, and the person putting together the cruise had gotten us a very knowledgeable tour guide (he actually had been an archaeologist and was retired from that career). We got started very early – meeting at 7:30 and on the road by 8.

Our first stop was at the home believed to be where the apostle John and the Virgin Mary had lived after the death and resurrection of Jesus. Remember in John's gospel, Jesus handed over his mother to the care of his beloved friend John (Mother, behold your son; John, behold your mother). Tradition holds that John and Mary went to Ephesus. When things became a bit too hairy and unsafe, they moved to a house in the hills above Ephesus. It is believed that Mary's human life ended in Ephesus (Catholics believe she was assumed body and soul into heaven). John eventually died a natural death in Ephesus, and is buried near there.

Most of the structure that sits at the site is not original, although the foundation is from the original house. The home is very small, and where the kitchen would have been is an altar with a bronze statue of Mary. The tour moves people in a line through the home and out the other side, where there is a picture of the Blessed Mother with all of the citations from the Koran written below (and there are many references to Mary in the Koran).

After the tour, you pass by the first of very many souvenir shops that we will see throughout the day. Bill had predicted that it would be “Mary's House and Gift Shop,” but in fact, it should have been “Mary's House, Gift Shop, Snack Bar, and Internet Cafe.” But at least the souvenir hawkers didn't bug us much there. And the bathrooms were clean and had the trifecta (toilet seats, toilet paper, and soap!). My single purchase was a scarf in case we went into a mosque (which we didn't). The vendor told me it was cashmere but since it was only 5 Euros, I'm thinking perhaps he wasn't telling me the truth.

Following the visit to the house of Mary, we went to the ruins of the ancient city of Ephesus. It was fascinating to see where people lived thousands of years BC. The city had, at one time, been home for 240,000 (not including slaves), and they were surprisingly advanced, with steam heat and rudimentary indoor plumbing. We saw their shopping area, examples of where they lived, a magnificent library, the public latrines (to which the rich people sent their slaves to warm up prior to their own visit), and the Grand Theater where the Ephesians watched gladiators, plays, and heard St. Paul make his case for Christianity. The theater held 24,000.

After seeing Ephesus, we ran into our first commercial event. Our next stop was to a Turkish carpet store. Our guess is that tour guides in Turkey get paid by store owners for bringing a busload of captive American tourists to see their presentation and get the sales pitch. Should anyone purchase a rug, they probably get a cut.

I must say it was interesting to see the women weaving the rugs by hand. The craftsmanship was amazing. The carpets were absolutely gorgeous with vivid colors, but quite expensive. I know that you can work out fabulous deals, but it was still above my price range. I have a house in Mesa to pay for! But let me tell you, it was not because the salesman didn't try. Usually if you don't make eye contact with a sales clerk, you're safe. Not in Turkey. Here was the best deal that one of our fellow tourists was offered: He lives in Canada and his wife isn't with him. The salesman said if he would put a $500 deposit on the carpet, the salesman would fly with him to Canada, bringing the carpet with him. If his wife didn't like the carpet, he would give him the deposit back. The traveler didn't accept the offer. We did get a beverage out of it. (Let me just tell you that there is a reason you don't hear a lot about Turkish wine. Still, it was fun to taste it.)

Following the visit to the carpet store, we saw the Church of St. John. The church is actually in ruins as well, but we were able to see the place where John is buried. And we were able to get a good idea of what the church looked like in its day.

After that visit, we were taken to Commercial Opportunity #2 – a leather store. The leather they make is gorgeous. It seriously feels like silk. We saw a fashion show, and were given another Turkish beverage – apple tea. That stop was actually fairly lucrative for our tour guide as several of the people purchased leather coats. I'm sure they got good deals. We tried to simply look at some of the jackets, but a salesman followed us around so closely that it gave me the creeps.

By this time it was 4 o'clock, and we were all very tired. So our tour guide took us back to the ship, with a quick stop to see the location of the temple of the Goddess Artemis (which was the goddess that St. Paul worked so hard to get people to give up for Christianity). In its day, the temple had apparently been enormous. All that is left is one column.

This was the stop that produced the most aggressive shop vendors. They stand in your way. They touch you. They ask you again and again if you want to buy this genuine ancient artifact for a euro. They accept American dollars. They accept Euros. I think they might have accepted Monopoly money. You have to just keep walking. But one store did advertise “Genuine Fake Watches.” Perhaps this was the only truthful vendor.

I was disappointed that we did not have the opportunity to try some local Turkish food. I would rather have tried falafel and foregone the leather and carpet stores. Sigh.

Tomorrow is a sea day, and we are both very glad. Everyone on the ship seemed tired tonight at dinner.

Greek Island Day

Our ship was scheduled to arrive at the Greek Island of Rhodes at 10 o'clock this morning. So I set a wake-up call for 8:30. I quietly dressed and went to the gym early, leaving Bill to sleep a bit longer. Much to my surprise, the vista out of the windows of the gym was magnificent! Our ship had docked early, and I was looking at the prettiest of towns jutting up from the Mediterranean Ocean.

It was a sight for sore eyes after the confusion and noise of yesterday in Athens. The island really does sparkle in the sunlight, and the skies were as blue as the Greek flag. It was one of the prettiest things I've ever seen in my travels to Europe.

After my exercise, Bill and I did our few errands and were off the ship by 10:30. Unlike yesterday, Rhodes City is just a very short walk from where the ships dock, so it was easy to get on and off the ship. No need for us to take a tour bus, or anything else, to get us where we wanted to go. There were a few people taking tours, but most everyone was doing what we were doing – walking to the old town center to shop and enjoy the tavernas.

We did what we like doing most – we quickly got off the beaten path so that we could see the back streets of the old town. We had an early lunch at a cafe that was tucked away from the more commercial area of town. Then we wandered and looked at the locals, the flowers, the churches and the mosques.

Bill hates shopping more than any other human being I know. I kept telling him that the ship was so close that he could go back and I could shop at my leisure. At first he said no, that he would prefer to stay with me. But I would go into a store, he would quickly get bored. We finally went into a wine store where he bought a couple of very nice cigars. At last, I was able to convince him to go back to the ship.

Finally! I was free from that person who ardently hates shopping. I was in a lovely Greek town that was full of things to buy and vendors eager, if not frantic, to sell me things. So I picked out a few things in the first shop I went into, with help from a friendly Greek sales clerk. I get to the counter to pay and suddenly I remember that I had absolutely NO MONEY. I had given all of my money and my credit cards to Bill to carry when we were in Naples, and he had never given them back. I seriously thought the sales clerk was going to weep.

I walked back to the ship and still had a couple of hours to spare before we had to be back on board. I gathered my money and my credit cards and was back shopping in no time.
We had a full table again tonight at dinner, and it was fun to hear about everyone's shopping adventures. One couple, who come from Toronto and are on their first cruise, actually bought a carpet that they are having sent to their home in Canada. No one could compete with that.
Everyone is excited for their next couple of port stops. One of our table mates said that seeing the pyramids was on his “bucket list.” The couple from Canada plan on riding camels when in Egypt. I can't say that is particularly on MY bucket list.

We meet up with the people taking our tour into Ephesus very early tomorrow, so we are having a early turn-in. We did see a very beautiful sunset from the deck this evening.

It Was All Greek to Me

Well, the Greeks sure caused a lot of consternation on a cruise ship or two because of their uncertain economic and political conditions.

In the end, after standing in a line for over an hour yesterday morning, Bill and I got on a short afternoon bus tour that allowed us to see some of the major sights in Athens. It was the only thing available, and that was only because many people just got too nervous or ticked off to go into the city and turned in their tickets.

The port where the ship docks is way too far from Athens to walk, and if, when, and who was striking was never made clear (through no fault of Royal Caribbean; I don't think anyone knew). We had been told that the metro stations and city buses would be running before 11 and after 5, but I was just too nervous to believe that. It had all been too fluid throughout the past few days. And if they weren't striking, they were demonstrating. At one point during our tour, they told us we would not be able to drive through the modern Athens City Center because it was closed (I assume due to demonstrations). About 10 minutes later, our tour guide received a phone call telling her that we were able to drive through the center of Athens. Drive fast before it changes again.

Having said all of that, it was a most interesting afternoon. Athens is where the large majority of Greeks live. It is pretty in a big-city sort of way. The buildings crawl up the side of the hill and the Parthenon sits like a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae – you can see it from very far away.

We drove to an area called the Plaka, which is the historical city center. It includes several streets that house shops and tavernas offering typical Greek food (well, typical for tourists at any rate). They freed us from the bus, and we had an hour-and-a-half to wander around a bit. While others shopped, Bill and I found a taverna and ordered gyros (what else?) and some white Greek house wine. It was good, and we enjoyed watching the people shop around us.

I'm pretty sure that the street on which the taverna was located was supposed to be a pedestrian street, but at one point, a UPS truck that literally took up the entire street (people were diving to the sidewalks) slowly drove down the street, with its sides touching the sidewalks because the street was so narrow. But, it was no wonder. The traffic around the city was absolutely crazy. I'm not sure if it is always that bad or if it was nuttier because of the political situation that day. I suspect the former. The UPS truck driver was likely looking for a quicker way to his destination. But, as can be expected in big cities, several others (including the inevitable scooters) followed suit. So the wacky parade went on for some time. We just sipped our wine and watched in wonder.

The entertainment last night was a comedian who was, unfortunately, not very funny. His material was very old. He was making jokes about Prince Charles leaving Princess Di for a homlier woman. Seriously? Didn't that happen a couple of decades ago? But the funny thing was that there was a couple sitting behind us who was apparently from Spain or Mexico. He spoke and understood English, but she didn't. So he was interpreting the bits for her. So Mr. Comedian would make his joke and then there would be the translation behind us. Furthermore, the man sitting to my left apparently couldn't hear well, so after each joke he would ask his wife, “What?” and she would repeat the joke loudly in his ear. It was a very surreal experience.

Our next stop is Rhodes, which is a lovely Greek Island. I anticipate less drama.

Unlucky Strike

Today we were at sea all day, making our way to Athens. It was very quiet, so I spent the day observing people and trying to note the differences between this cruise and the last.

The most noticeable thing is the number of non-Americans. While there are plenty of Americans, there seem to be many more Europeans and Asians this cruise than the last. Lots of Brits. In addition to listening to a variety of tongues in the elevator, I have also noticed that all announcements are made in English, Spanish, Italian, and German. Sometimes they seem to go on forever.

Of course, when you have more Europeans, you have more Speedos. Sigh. And you also have more men wearing capri pants and shiny pointed loafers.

Another thing I've noticed is that there are many more children on this cruise than there were cruising from Miami to Rome. I think on that cruise they said there were a total of 46 children. I haven't heard them mention a number yet, but I can see there are plenty more. It seems like kind of a funny cruise itinerary for small children, but I can tell you that they were certainly having fun today on the deck. It makes me more homesick for my grandchildren.

There are many more late-night activities. On the first cruise, our dining time was 5:30. The second dining time was 8:00. They would generally have two shows – one at 6:45 for the late diners and one at 8:30 for the early diners. Our early seating is now at 6 o'clock, and the late seating is at 8:30. They still have two programs, but the first starts at 8:30 or 9, and the late show begins at 11. Europeans dine late, so we weren't surprised at the change in dining time.

The overall age level of this cruise seems younger. While I still see older people, there were considerably more young adults out by the pool today. Lots of bikinis. Some that shouldn't have been there.

Tonight was our first formal night for this cruise. The first formal night is the most fun, because people really get gussied up. I noticed lots of long formal gowns this time. The other two nights will likely be less formal. Up until tonight, there had just been four of us at our table that is always set for 10. Tonight, two more couples showed up. There is a couple from Fort Lauderdale (though she had a beautiful southern accent and confirmed that she had grown up in Savannah). Also joining us was a couple from Toronto, who seemed very congenial. I'm not sure we'll see either couple again until the next formal night.

Here is the status about Athens: Up until tonight, we were told that the workers for the Ministry of Cultural Affairs were for sure going to be on strike (meaning no museums would be open) and there was a chance that the transportation workers would also be on strike (meaning no tour buses), but that taxis and the metro system would be working. Taking this all into consideration, Bill and I decided to just walk the 20 minutes to the metro and then take the metro into the old city center. We were feeling quite smug about not being impacted by the strike.

During dinner, they made an announcement that the transportation workers were definitely NOT going to be on strike; therefore all of the tour buses would run, but that some tours would need to be canceled. Then, a bit later, they made the final announcement: The workers for the Ministry of Cultural Affairs would NOT be going on strike so all museums would be open after all. Yay! EXCEPT, they went on to say that the metro system and city bus workers WERE going to be on strike (but only between 11 a.m. And 5 p.m.

Yikes! That meant that unless Bill and I could get onto a tour, we were not going to be going into Athens. That is the status as of my writing this post.

Our plan: We noticed that a group of people had organized a tour that was not affiliated with Royal Caribbean, and they were meeting at 8:30 Tuesday morning. So Bill and I are going to go down and see if they have room for us. If they do, we will join them. If they don't, we will need to decide whether or not we want to risk going into Athens before 11 and coming back after 5 (when the metro system workers are supposed to be working. Our other alternative, of course, is to just stay on the ship. I must say given all of the changes throughout the past few days, I'm not terribly comfortable taking their word that they will only be striking between 11 and 5. Our ship leaves port at 6:30, and I truly want to be on this ship when it leaves for Rhodes.
Stay tuned.

In Napoli

Any day that doesn't involve a grown man riding a unicycle made for a Barbie doll has got to be better than the last day. And, we were in Naples.

Bill and I had never been further south than Rome, and so we were eager to visit Naples, but somewhat apprehensive. Father David had warned us to watch our backs, Rick Steves' guide books said to make sure we stayed on well-traveled streets, and our cruise director reminded everyone to be careful.

Naples is the third largest city in Italy (after Rome and Milan), but it feels larger than either. It is crowded, dirty, intense, loud, and full of an energy like I've never experienced anywhere else. I would never choose to spend a lot of time in Naples, but we really enjoyed our day. We did watch our backs, we were very careful, but, as usual, we got lost and walked through local neighborhoods where there were absolutely no tourists. Oh well; two out of three ain't bad, and we made it through alive and with all of our belongings.

Two years ago, when we were in Italy, we had hoped to visit Naples. At that time, however, they had a garbage strike with garbage literally piling up everywhere, and we decided to forgo a trip to Napoli at that time. Bill and I agreed today that we made a good decision, because even today, the streets were full of garbage, but apparently not like it was then.

The local people dress in dark clothes that match their dark coloring. They talk loudly and gesture with their hands. Many of them have dogs with them, so we had to walk very carefully to avoid the ensuing doggie poop. But you'd better not be looking down for poop as you walk, because the people of Naples will not move aside for you. They will walk right into you. They seriously walk as though they are playing chicken (Ah-ha! You flinched!).

Traffic was intense. We found that the only way we could cross a street was to get next to a local and just cross with them, which is never, ever in the crosswalk. You can get killed in a crosswalk. You just step out into the street and walk decisively. Honking, honking, honking.

Scooters are everywhere, and literally ignore traffic lights and signs. Scooters with three or more people on them. Scooter drivers talking on the telephone. Bill even saw a scooter driver reading a newspaper as he drove.

We had Neapolitan coffee, which is dark and delicious. And we had wonderful, wonderful, Neapolitan pizza. Rome and Naples are in constant competition over who makes the best pizza. I know I'm influenced by whatever pizza I've eaten most recently, but today's pizza was unbelievably good. The crust is chewier than Roman pizza, and the flavorings more powerful (not surprising in this city where everything is powerful). I had diavola, which was made with very spicy chunks of salami and a tomato sauce made with pepperincino. Bill had pizza with prosciutto, arugula, and parmaggiano reggiano cheese. We randomly picked a pizzeria which was off the beaten path, and our choice was good.

We saw a piece of art that was one of the most amazing I've seen anywhere, by an artist of whom I've never heard – Giuseppe Sammartino. The statue, carved out of a single piece of marble, shows Jesus lying on pillows on a bed, covered by a thin veil. The veil is so realistic that you almost want to touch it. You can see Jesus' nail wounds on his hands and feet through the veil. It was spectacular.

We got back to the ship early enough to rest some before dinner. After dinner, the evening's production featured the East Coast Boys, who are a take-off on the Jersey Boys, which is the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. They were very good, and we enjoyed the show a great deal.

We learned tonight that the office of Cultural Affairs in Greece is going on strike, so we will be unable to visit any of the museums in Athens. We are very disappointed. There was fear that there would also be a transportation strike, but that didn't transpire. That would have impacted all forms of transportation in Athens (and elsewhere in Greece).

Tomorrow is a day at sea as we make our way over to Greece and their striking workers. By the way, we had to turn our clocks forward one last time, so we are now nine hours ahead of our friends and family in Denver. We will stay here until we get Sicily, when we will have the hour back.

Cruise, Part II

Saturday was a very long day.

Our wake-up call came at 5 o'clock, because we wanted to get the heck out of Dodge before the other cruisers (those who were heading off the ship for good) started packing the hallways. We had gotten our new sea passes the night before and we were told we could leave the ship at 5:45.
When we awoke at 5, we noticed our voice message light was flashing. I checked the message and it was from the front desk, frantically telling us that the sea passes we had gotten the night before were no good, and that our stateroom attendant would give us new passes. Our attendant, Michael, dutifully gave us new passes when he arrived at 6 o'clock.

We caught the shuttle that took us from the ship to the entrance to the port, and then set off on foot for the 10 minute walk to the train station. Bill got our round-trip tickets, proudly using his Italian (“due biglietti termini e returno”) and the ticket agent said, in perfect English, “Here's your two round-trip tickets and you're on track 3.” Oh well. Usually they don't speak English.

The train ride took about an hour, and we got off at the Auralia station. Our plan was to take the 247 bus down Auralia Street in Rome until we got to the little restaurant where we enjoyed so many espressos, ciambellei (sugar donuts) and evening meals. We tried to buy bus tickets from the ticket seller at the Auralia Station, but he informed us that unless we had the right change, he couldn't sell us a ticket. I'm talking two tickets would be one euro each (2 euros), and Bill wanted to give him a 5 euro note. Nope. No can do. I simply will never understand why Italians hate – I mean HATE – to make change. So, as a result, we got on the bus without purchasing ANY tickets and kept our fingers crossed. We made it without a hitch. So they really showed us.

After eating our ciambelli, cappuccino, and machiato, we walked the few blocks to the metro station and took the metro train into central Rome. We walked around a couple of churches, and stopped into the big book store that sells English language books. They have a nice selection of English language books with Italian themes, so I bought a couple.

It was drizzling all day, and we, of course, had no umbrellas. So we purchased a couple of cheap umbrellas from a small store run by an Asian man. Before he gave us the umbrellas, he carefully showed us how to open them. Apparently he not only recognized that we weren't Italian, but thought we were from Mars and didn't know how an umbrella worked.

We then took the metro back to the Spanish Steps where we met Bill's nephew, Father David. You remember David who showed us Rome as only one who was very familiar with the Eternal City could show us. We had wonderful pizza and a liter of delicious vino rosso.

It was a quick visit, but we will meet him again at the end of our trip. In the meantime, we needed to begin our journey back to the ship. We retraced our steps – an hour on the train, a 10 minute walk to port entrance, and the shuttle back. We made it just in time before they closed the doors to the ship.

So, we walked up to the security gates, they ran our new and improved sea passes through the machine, and the picture that came up from our passes was neither one of us! They couldn't let us in because we might be terrorists. We were very tired and very wet. And if you think we weren't happy, let me just say all of the people behind us who had to wait as they ran the passes through again and again (with the same result) were also not happy.

They finally agreed to keep our passports and let us go up to the customer service desk to get new sea passes (this makes number 3).

Well, it's the first day of a cruise, and there are 10 million people everywhere, and twice that many at the customer service desk. To make matters worse, they had to send us the long way because someone had fallen down the stairs and they were taking him/her out on a stretcher. I tried to make myself feel better by reminding myself that I was having a better day than that person.

We finally reached a customer service person, they gave us new sea passes, and we made our way back to the security gate to retrieve our passports. On the way back, someone else fell down the steps. By this time I'm thinking, “What in the heck is going on here? We sailed across the Atlantic and didn't see one person fall down the steps. People here are dropping like flies and we haven't even set sail!” Bill and I held on to the railings on the stairs because we were beginning to suspect they had greased the steps as a practical joke.

We got our passports, made it to dinner, which was good. We're at a table for 10, and only one other couple showed up. They were nice, but they weren't like our last table. Sigh. Perhaps they'll all grow on me (after they finally show up anyway).

Finally, we decide to go to the show, despite being so tired. Alas, the entertainment was a unicyclist whose claim to fame was holding the world record for riding the smallest unicycle. He brought out a unicycle with a wheel the size of a quarter, and Bill and I got up and left.

Tasting Tuscan Wine

Today we woke up to what was really the very first terribly yucky day we've had on this entire trip. We docked early this morning in Livorno, which is a port in Tuscany near Pisa. It was very cold, gray, and raining to beat the band. It didn't look as though it had any mind to stop, and, in fact, it never did.

Our original plan was to get off the ship and take a train from Livorno to Certaldo, the Tuscan city in which we lived for a month in 2008. I'm not ashamed to admit that the primary reason I wanted to go to Certaldo was to have the wonderful pastry about which I've had many a dream in the past few years and have never figured out how to recreate.

About a month ago, Bill read in the newspaper that the Italian transportation people were planning a strike on, yes, you guessed it, April 23. We've been following that story since, and the plans have never changed – the strike was on. We simply couldn't risk getting on a train only to have the strike ensue while we were in some Tuscan town. So we bagged that idea and decided instead to do a quick four-hour wine tour. It turned out to be a great idea, though rumor has it that the strike never happened.

I was disappointed that the weather was so bad because the Tuscan countryside is so pretty when the sun shines. But we enjoyed the hour bus drive nevertheless. The little local vineyard was near Lucca. The tour guide warned us before we got there that their wines directly compete with the regional Chianti wines, and suggested we not even say the word Chianti. Remembering the battles between the Florentines and everybody else in the 1400s (and the grudges they hold), we decided to keep our mouths shut.

There were probably 50 or so of us from the ship on the tour, and by the end of the wine tasting, we were all best friends. The wine was delicious, and they accompanied it with local salami and pecorino cheese, olives, and sun-dried tomatoes. Yum.

We got a kick out of the vineyard's dog, named Penelope, who wandered around the tables accepting all of the goodies offered by the tourists. Buona sera Penelope, I said, remembering that dogs in Italy speak Italian.

We enjoyed our last dinner with our dining companions, whom I will miss very much. I worried about 86-year-old Harry all day. He was so excited to show Babe Florence. They survived the tour, but didn't wait around for the tour bus to take them home. Instead, they caught a taxi back to the cruise ship from Florence! Such a New Yawkah.

We said our goodbyes to our stupendous waiters, Valentin and Dorin. I hope our next table will be just as much fun.