Wednesday, March 27, 2002

We're at RDU waiting for a 11:50 flight to Atlanta. Then it's off for Rome. A plush ride in the limousine van had us appealing to drive to Atlanta rather than getting on a plane, and had Josh dancing in the aisles. A somewhat less-luxurious, two-leg, fifteen-hour plane trip may not have led to much dancing, but we were very excited to be in Italy after a bumpy touchdown at Leonardo da Vinci Airport.

The limo bus begins the trip in style

Thursday, March 28, 2002

We proceeded, without Jessica's lost tongue ring, through immigration and to baggage claim. There we met an EF representative, who directed us to our tour bus. Our tour director is Marcandrea Tresalti, a colorful and somewhat high-strung individual who has been likened by students to both Radar from the television show "M*A*S*H*", and George Castanza from "The Jerry Seinfeld Show."  We are with three other high school groups: three Latin students and two adults from Missoula, Montana; five students and three adults from Paso Robles, California; and a larger contingent of sixteen students and two teachers from Santa Clara, California.

The first few hours in Rome were quite tiring, especially given our lack of sleep. By the fourth mile of the guided walking tour of the city, one student was convinced of a deliberate plot to push us until we dropped. Brief stops included a few minutes at both the base of the Spanish Steps and at the Pantheon, and a longer period of free time at the Trevi Fountain. We ended the day being besieged by an assortment of panhandlers, con artists, musicians, magicians, and struggling jugglers at the Piazza Navona, Rome's most famous public square.

Then, it was off to our hotel for the next three nights, in Palestrina, some one-and-a-half hours from the center of Rome. The location of the hotel is an issue, particularly for the Catholic students on the trip who had received tickets for a Saturday audience with the Pope. We are set at the base of a very historic and interesting Lazio hill town, but clearly will not have time to explore it. There was significant confusion about the room arrangements, which left Marco (Marcandrea) frazzled and some very tired students impatient, but ultimately matters were resolved to everyone's apparent satisfaction.

We make a new friend in the Piazza Navona

Friday, March 29, 2002

We were in line at the Vatican Museum by 9:00 a.m.. where we met our local guide Flavia. It was definitely an abbreviated tour, though she did do an excellent job briefly explaining the details of the Sistine Chapel and how "The Last Judgment" wall painting can in part be read as a chronicle of Michelangelo's relationship with the church hierarchy. In such a busy day, it is of course important both to not wear students out and to move on to other sites, but it was a shame that students missed out on the rooms of paintings (including the Raphael Room) close to the Chapel; on the marvelous classical statue "The Laocoon"; and on the entire wing of paintings in the wing opposite the Chapel. The visit to St. Peter's Cathedral very much impressed everyone -- that the darker mosaics of the church were indeed mosaics and not paintings made a more apparent impact upon students than did Michelangelo's "Pieta."

After lunch in the Vatican underground, we moved on to the center of ancient Rome. The first stop was the Coliseum, though unfortunately we arrived on the only half-day of the year in which entry had been made inaccessible. We had to amuse ourselves instead sparring with the many individuals dressed up as gladiators outside the building. One Santa Clara student aptly described these grizzled warriors as hoboes in helmets -- they seemed particularly interested in fondling females of all ages, sizes, and shapes.

The hoboes in helmets make their move.

The Roman Forum was next. It is a place best appreciated by those with at least a reasonable acquaintance with the contours of Roman history, and also needs an energetic and imaginative tour guide. Flavia, however, seemed to have lost focus, and did not do a good job in bringing the old civic center to life. We, too, were tired at the end of a long day. I was interested to find out that the Arch of Titus marking the entrance to the Forum was so directly connected to the Destruction of the Second temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D.

New Century was the only group to take Marco up on his offer to take us to Dr. Arnaud's Time Elevator, a very Disneyesque experiential introduction to Roman history. After an introductory quiz show about the Italian past (won in an impressive display by Josh), we proceeded to the time elevator itself. This was a carnival ride-come-history lesson: it combined a broad overview of Rome's history from the times of Romulus and Remus to the Renaissance with the feel of being on a roller coaster and included as special effects moving seats; rain falling from the ceiling; and forced wind from below simulating rats running up inside one's pants.

The New Century contingent gathers in the Roman Forum

Tonight, the second student of the day expressed the desire to return home and doubts about the ability to stay the course throughout the duration of the trip. It's been a fast pace so far without much time for sleep or for relaxing.

We left early in the morning for our optional day trip to Florence. There were doubts as to whether this would come off -- there had been some rumors as to Florence as a potential Easter weekend terrorism target.

The journey by bus took nearly four hours and, by the time we arrived, the line at the Accademia (home to Michelangelo's "David") was too long to sneak a short visit before our scheduled 11:30 a.m. demonstration at Leonardo's Leather Works. So, it was on to the leather shop, where students and adults alike found assorted presents for friends and family back home.

We met our guide and visited Santa Croce Church, a place of worship which also includes the tombs of Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and Galileo. It seemed strange to be in such a worldly Franciscan church -- the removed frescoes and the reverberations of Medici era Florence seemed somewhat out of place after my visits to Assisi and St. Anthony's in Padua last summer. The three famous Italians buried in Santa Croce at least shared with the Franciscans the willingness to challenge accepted church orthodoxy. The waterline left high on the walls of the church from the flood of 1966 was clearly visible, as too was the same line on the public buildings in the square outside.

Outside Santa Croce Church

By the time we had reached the next square, the Piazza dei Seignori, a number of students, including two of ours, had asked if they could go off shopping and exploring alone. Minus this group, we pushed on to the religious center of town and the thirteenth century Duomo. Because of the upcoming services, we could not climb up to the top of Bruneschelli's famous double Dome, or even fully appreciate the magnificent frescoes on the underside of the supporting dome. We also only saw Ghiberti's door to the Baptistry in reproduction -- the original Old Testament scenes had been removed into  the church museum in 1990.

After the Duomo, it had reached mid-afternoon and most students were both tired and hungry. While many sat down for a hearty lunch, I led a very small group to the Accademia where we saw "David."  To even begin to do Florence in five-and-a-half hours was obviously impossible. For example, we did not have the opportunity to even step inside the Uffizi. All in all, however, it was a very successful day and most students found the pace of Tuscan life preferable to that of the whirl of Rome.

Janet catches her own reflection taking a picture on the historic Ponte Vecchio Bridge

We immediately caught the hydrofoil for the island of Capri. The entire group transferred to a motorboat and were taken to the entrance to the island's most famous cave, the Blue Grotto. Despite it just being mid-morning, there were already several boats jostling for position by the tiny entrance, angry Italian epithets occasionally being exchanged by the different pilots. We bobbed in the water for at least an hour, something that did little positive to the stomachs of a number of students. Brice, in particular, suffered. He continues to battle the flu and indeed had asked if he could stay on the mainland today, something that proved impractical. Throughout the trip, he has shown resilience and steadfastness, despite his ongoing illness.

Finally, we all got on the small five-person rowboats. We laid flat on the boat bottoms as the local guides gauged the rhythms of the waves before pulling us by rope into the small cavern that once served as the private swimming pool of Emperor Tiberius. A second underwater entrance 20 feet under the first casts light up from below, accentuating the blueness of the already-deeply-textured Mediterranean. Even Rob, who at one point had been threatening to dive overboard in a need to relieve himself, admitted the wait had been rewarded.

The motorboat takes us out to the Blue Grotto.  Marco is pictured on the left.

After the Blue Grotto, we moved by funicular up to the main village of Capri. The island rises iceberg-like straight from the sea, with houses perched on narrow terraces that have been carved out by human hands over the centuries. This is one of the trendiest and most expensive spots in Europe and in this case, at least, one cannot fault the taste of the rich and famous. Student hunger pangs took precedence over sightseeing and since we had only an hour-and-a-half before our descent, we did not get a chance to see much on this first level. The group from Montana did march up to Tiberius's villa -- reputedly dinner guests who did not laugh at his jokes were cast off the cliff into the sea below.

Instead of returning to Naples, we instead caught a smaller ferry back to Sorrento, a noted resort town just to the south. As with Capri, the reasons for Sorrento's appeal are obvious -- the city is carved out of a landscape that steeply slopes and not infrequently plunges into the ocean. Our own hotel was situated out of town, but with a breathtaking panoramic view some five hundred feet above the bay.

The bus driver Guliani, who knows no English and who thus has been silent for most of the trip, endeared himself to students today. Attempting to negotiate a particularly tough turn in the narrow streets of Sorrento during what passes for rush hour, he slowly backed into a car that had pushed up behind him, lifting the small vehicle off the ground. All the while, Marco, unaware of what was happening to the rear of the bus, assured us that there was no cause for concern about the difficult turn because "Guliani no play games." After a short police escort (a police officer had been at the intersection when the accident occurred), a lengthy conversation between the involved parties ensued, but with no formal repercussions for anyone. "Guliani no play games" has since become the unofficial slogan for this year's tour.

After breakfast-time April Fool's jokes, we re-boarded with St. Guiliani and were treated to a very scenic, coast-hugging hour-long ride to Pompeii,  buried under Mt. Vesuvius's ash in 79 AD. A very knowledgeable tour guide gave us a brief but informative description of the site. Here students seemed able to connect to and touch the past in a way which had not been possible at the Roman Forum. The "Beware of Dog" mosaic at a nobleman's house entranceway; the "lockers" at the public bath; the frescoes of mythological scenes still adorning the walls of several homes; the stray dogs wandering the streets; the raised stones designed to help the ancient inhabitants cross the streets without sinking into the mush that would have been there at certain times of the year; the signs posted on several buildings; and the pornography of the pleasure quarters all served as tangible markers that helped to bring a world two millennia lost back to life.

Gathered at the forum in Pompeii

In the early afternoon, we clambered back onto the EF bus for a three-hour ride to Bari in order to catch the ferry to Greece. An uneventful ride, though it was interesting to note the changing landscape as we moved into the southwesterly region of Puglia. The ferry itself is luxurious -- more of a cross between a cruise ship and a ferry than the type of overcrowded boat one occasionally hears of going down in the Adriatic. The quarters are tight but far from spartan -- an average of three students are put into private rooms that include full showers. The highlight of the evening no doubt was the disco that opened at 11:00p.m., with dancing continuing into the morning hours.

This trip has witnessed remarkably little in-fighting amongst students, but a high degree of segregation between the different groups has been evidenced. The three Latin students from Montana may be somewhat intimidated by the older students, but also perhaps see themselves as AP intellectuals amidst the barbarians. The smaller California group has been the best at mixing, and indeed Dominic and Hugo have booth roomed with and become friends with Noah and Rob since the beginning of the trip. Josh, with his openness and enthusiasm, constant videotaping, and repeated declarations of "Wassupp!" in Spanish, Italian, and Greek, has done the best job of any of our students in negotiating his way amongst the members of the different groups. Jessica and Katie seem in the process of attaching themselves to the larger California contingent. Since these students will continue on with us on the cruise, this offers to both Jessica and Katie the chance for new friendships on a trip that might have had its somewhat isolating aspects. It also threatens to introduce Southern accents to the Valley (overheard yesterday -- "I mean, I'm starting to say 'Y'all' --that's just not right!") The disco night might have served to break down at least a few barriers. Rob and Noah poked their heads in; Brice and Alicia at least wandered the ship until past midnight.

The frescoes of Pompeii

Tomorrow, we shall be in Greece!

Tuesday, April 2, 2002

I was up before sunrise enjoying the serenity and power of a coming day experienced at sea. It was somewhat of a struggle to rouse all travelers for the noon departure – a reflection not only of the time change and of possible disco night festivities, but also of the pace at which the trip has been conducted.

We spent the afternoon in the bus traveling from Patras to Delphi. The terrain is impressive: stark, sparsely-populated hills; deeply-textured oceans; distant snow-capped peaks. One feels in the presence of the gods, and not only because we are pushing today from the Ionian Sea (named after a lover of Zeus who was transformed by a jealous Hera into a cow) through the Peloponnesian Peninsula (named after the son of Tantalus, who dared to challenge the gods by serving them his own child for dinner in an effort to determine whether the immortals could taste the difference between human and animal flesh). Some of the coach’s passengers gained a new-found appreciation for religion modern and ancient since our Greek driver Demetri displayed a range of innovative maneuvers, including the up-hill, blind curve, double-line pass, that had many wishing for Guliani’s return. The highway has votive offerings every mile or so, small personal shrines to those who have not lived to invent ever-increasingly-ingenious ways of defying basic traffic laws.

We stopped for a late lunch at Clovino Beach. A few students who sampled the local seafood were shocked to be served large-headed shrimp or tentacled squid, but others dug into the fare enthusiastically. After lunch, it was a brief toe dip in the Gulf of Corinth and then on to Delphi.

Janet, Heather, and Alicia relax after lunch at Clovino Beach

Delphi itself is nestled half-way up Mt. Parnassus. The setting befits its ancient designation as the most sacred spot in Greece. Ironically, however, Franco-Greek bauxite mines litter the landscape at the base below the ascent to the town. After a long day’s journey, many students spent the evening wandering the main street of Delphi, exploring its different tourist shops. Crossbows, halberds, and over-sized plastic knives were amongst the more interesting of purchases. All seem agreed that Delphi is one of our best stops.

Wednesday, April 3, 2002

The time in Delphi, all agreed, was too short. In an effort to compensate for this, the New Century adults on the trip snuck out for an early-morning exploration of the section of the archaeological site originally dedicated to the goddess Athena, something that was not on the regular tour. Although the illicit climbing of an eight-foot gate was involved, both Janet and I agreed our sneakiness was well-rewarded by the sacred sunrise we experienced.

Janet above the ruins at Delphi

Later in the morning, the entire group was led on an exploration of the Temple of Apollo. In a brief but impressive presentation, our local guide highlighted the process by which snake worship and sybilline priestesses had been displaced by the god of light. I found it particularly powerful that some eight hundred freed slaves had etched their names into the base of the temple, a reflection of their own identification with a god who had spent seven years in servitude purifying himself after killing the Python. Higher up the hill, Josh displayed his athletic prowess by handily defeating Dan in a 177-meter sprint on the ancient track that once served as the stadium for the Pythian Games.

Dominic joins our group for a portrait at the Temple of Apollo

From Delphi, it was a three-hour ride to Athens. The highlight of the trip, no doubt, was an impressive skateboarding exhibition by our tour director Marco. He displayed a form and a bodily intensity that spoke admirably to a youth misspent. A late afternoon arrival in Athens did not leave time for major exploration, but we did have an opportunity to walk down to the ruins near the base of the Acropolis.

Thursday, April 4, 2002

Our full day in Athens perhaps might have been better organized. We did not start until after 9:00 a.m., and then spent two hours touring such sites as the university, the Parliament, and the modern Olympic stadium. Although this provided the opportunity for a running rematch between Josh and Dan, it meant that we did not reach the Acropolis until very late morning, and thus missed the opportunity to visit the Archaeological Museum before its mid-afternoon closing.

Abby, Pam, and Heather pose in front of the Caryatids

We instead had an excellent, authentic lunch down below the Parthenon, and then explored the surrounding flea market. After we returned to the King Jason Hotel in the late afternoon, I went out again to the Acropolis with Katie and Jessica, who had earlier asked to be excused from the morning’s activities. This provided me  with an opportunity to catch up with two students who have been at least somewhat disconnected from their fellow New Centurions. A strenuous up-hill climb led first to the Philosophers’ Rock, a spot used so often over the centuries by thinkers famous and common that the smoothed stone was slippery to climb. Then, it was back up to the Parthenon, where we were startled by Greek troops performing a loud, end-of-the-day saluting ceremony.

Friday, April 5, 2002

Today, we switched from the land-based to the sea-based portion of our trip. We traveled by bus without Demetri to the ancient port city of Piraeus, defended in classical times by a long wall that stretched from Athens. There, our Royal Olympic Cruise liner, the "World Renaissance," was waiting. The ship itself is impressive without, perhaps, rising to the status of being "posh." It does include various lounges, two small pools, a weight room, a beauty parlor, a mini-theater, and a disco. We are bunched together in a close section on Nereus Deck, with the New Century students housed four to a room. The small Montana contingent and the smaller of the two California groups have not continued on with us for the Aegean cruise. The larger and less restrained of the California schools remains, something that presents both potential problems and the opportunity for our students to mix with young people different from themselves.

Orientation included a somewhat amusing life jacket session. We gathered in the main lobby; divided into individual lifeboat sections; and then spent the next half an hour to 45 minutes standing or sitting around with life vests pulled up under our chins.

The lifeboat drill adds an element of intense excitement to our trip

By 7:00 p.m., we were at the island of Mykonos, our first place of call. The islanders are amongst the wealthiest in Europe and the guidebooks describe Mykonos as a tourist trap par excellence. Perhaps so. But here is also somewhere the discerning tourist might wish to be trapped. The winding cobble-stoned streets; the whitened block houses; the ancient windmills; and the innumerable small neighborhood churches added together into a great mix.

Heather enjoys the sites of Mykonos

The extraordinarily-distinctive Paraportiani Church, in particular, made a great impression upon us, but so too did the young soccer players exercising in its shadow. Despite our lack of knowledge, one senses here ancient island traditions not yet commodified by the lure of the cruise liner trade. We also ran into Petros the Pelican, the island’s second-generation mascot (the original Petros has been stuffed and is on display at the local museum).

Dan meets Petros the Pelican

Saturday, April 6, 2002

We were docked all day in the harbor at Rhodes, an island that has switched hands many times throughout its storied history but that is most famous for being home both to the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World, and to the Knights Hospitaler during the Middle Ages.

We decided to forego the expensive, all-island tour and instead focus our sightseeing upon Rhodes town itself. In a developing tension between teacher and student cultures, the latter perhaps was beginning to gain the upper hand – five of the eight students did not make it off the boat until after 11:00 a.m., and three of these would return again to the "World Renaissance" in mid-afternoon.

Rhodes itself was interesting but perhaps did not live up to expectations as a place of extraordinary power. We walked its ancient pebbled streets, including the Street of the Knights, and also visited the Grand Palace of the Knights, now converted into a museum.

Lunch at the Socrates Café was horrid. We did learn what a date palm looked like. But the ancient philosopher himself probably would have chosen hemlock over the pizza many of us were served for our meal. Afterwards, we hired two taxis for a brief tour just outside the ancient city walls. The driver of our cab spoke to us with evident pride about ancient and modern Rhodes alike, stopping at a scenic overlook to point out the line where the Aegean and the Mediterranean seas meet.

Overlooking the spot where the Aegean and Mediterranean seas collide

By request, our tour ended in Rodini Park, a city nature spot clearly marked by a religious past extending back beyond Zeus to cave sanctuaries and water spirits.  We took photos of the many peacocks in the part; clambered over an old wooden bridge; and marveled at an ancient aqueduct that must have dated from Roman times.

The Rodini Park peacocks

Then, it was back to the boat for an evening of Las-Vegas style entertainment with the Global Dancers and Richie Magic and his mysteriously-appearing pigeons.

Sunday, April 7, 2002

Our last full day on tour.  Very early in the morning, the boat negotiated its way into the tight harbor at Patmos.  We explored the island between 7:00 a.m. and 9:30 a.m..  Rather than participate in a cruise-organized on-shore excursion, we rented a cab and proceeded up the steep hillside to the Cave of the Apocalypse, where John wrote the Book of Revelations.  Being a Sunday, several young men were gathered singing at the small chapel built around the cave, while elderly Greek women sat lining the room.

We then continued up the slope to the Monastery of St. John.  The courtyard was lined with fascinating frescoes of apocalyptic imagery.  The interior chapel was unlike anything we had ever seen, while the Treasury included bizarre icons and artifacts: a picture including Pan playing the flute at the confirmation of Christ; an icon showing Christ descending into Hades; a stone marker dedicated to a priestess of Artemis, a goddess whose presence is still strongly felt on Patmos.  Patmos was without doubt one of the magical moments of our trip.  Five of the students slept through this experience.

The view of the harbor from the Monastery of St. John

Everyone, however, made it ashore at Kusadasi, Turkey, and six students participated in the shore excursion to Ephesus and the House of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Both of these sites are situated half an hour inland.  The latter, supposedly the place Mary spent her last years, was a major disappointment -- largely a 1950s-era, American-inspired re-construction.  That the dwelling is located so close to ancient temples to the Mother Goddess, Artemis, and Diana nonetheless offered a particularly poignant example of how millennia of religious history so often intersect in this region of the world.

Ephesus was at one time a city of some 300,000.  Although it lacked the power of Pompeii, our guide was excellent and such structures as the facade of the city's ancient library and the well-preserved theater were impressive indeed.  A Christian pilgrim was singing in the theater, drawn, no doubt, by the knowledge that Paul preached but a few yards away in the Agora while judgment against him was announced in the theater.

The library at Ephesus

We stopped on the way back to the boat for another of the patented "demonstrations"/sales pitches to which we have been subjected on tour, this time at an exclusive carpet factory.  These hand-made silks and cottons were well out of our price range, but we were nonetheless treated to an informative lecture about Turkish carpet-making by the owner and his retinue of some dozen man-servants.

Monday, April 8, 2002

A very full day of travel back to North Carolina through Piraeus, Athens, John F. Kennedy Airport, and, ultimately, Cincinnati.  The last detour was an unscheduled one, and many students were on the verge of tears when it was announced that our original New York--RDU flight had been cancelled.  That the students did not have more resilience as travelers surprised me somewhat, though it probably should not have, given that none had experienced such a rigorous tourism before.  We arrived back at RDU by 10:30 p.m., delighted to be home, exhausted, and with me thinking, perhaps against my better judgment, about possible destinations for next year's trip.