Chapter One - The Beginning
Having honeymooned in Benidorm followed by several camping trips within the UK (some aspects of which feature in later chapters) we were ready to explore a little further afield. Long sunny days were an attraction too. So, leaving a baby in the care of two sets of grandparents it was off to Athens for a week of sunshine and Ouzo. We never packed any waterproof clothing...
Of course, you can't visit Athens without a trip to the Parthenon can you? It rained so hard the approach to the Acropolis was a river of water six inches deep. With nowhere to dry off, and no shoes that would stay dry in any case, we bought plastic bags and squelched around in them for the next two days. It didn't put us off.
A tour of the Greek Islands by boat revealed a ready supply of cheap leather gloves for which we were extremely grateful as temperatures plummeted. Nevertheless, our desire to travel independently was born in Athens and we avoided organised trips to the consternation of the other members of our party. They regularly asked at dinner which trip we had been on and we always answered with one they'd never heard of!
Towards the end of the week, confidence rising, a train trip to Corinth, crossing the Corinthian Canal, was planned. After all, how hard could it be securing train tickets? We had our Berlitz Greek Phrasebook after all. The Greek people are inordinately patient, fortunately, and, after about 25 minutes at the ticket office, that hurdle was passed and we boarded the train.
Clearly more for local traffic than tourists we were surprised to be sharing a carriage with an assortment of ducks, goats and a pig on a piece of string. Halfway to Corinth, and so as not to miss the view passing over the Corinthian Canal, a visit to the toilet was suggested. Not wanting to be left alone with the menagerie, Mrs M decided to join me. Not literally, obviously! A fine panelled cubicle awaited us and, on flushing, a canvas flap slid back giving an excellent view of the track passing below the train. On our return the farmer and his family trooped off to avail themselves of the air-conditioned facilities. I was left holding the pig on the piece of string.
Shortly afterwards, having secured a single photograph of the Corinthian Canal as it flashed past we arrived in Corinth - or rather we didn't.
It was a beautifully warm, sunny day as we stepped from the train onto the platform of a quiet but well-kept colonial-style station. Panelled walls led to grand doors opening out to...
...a field. The train rumbled off over the horizon, we stood looking at the scene before us and each other. Apart from the station we were the only things as far as the eye could see. A well-trodden path headed off up a gentle slope...oh b*gger!
Having honeymooned in Benidorm followed by several camping trips within the UK (some aspects of which feature in later chapters) we were ready to explore a little further afield. Long sunny days were an attraction too. So, leaving a baby in the care of two sets of grandparents it was off to Athens for a week of sunshine and Ouzo. We never packed any waterproof clothing...
Of course, you can't visit Athens without a trip to the Parthenon can you? It rained so hard the approach to the Acropolis was a river of water six inches deep. With nowhere to dry off, and no shoes that would stay dry in any case, we bought plastic bags and squelched around in them for the next two days. It didn't put us off.
A tour of the Greek Islands by boat revealed a ready supply of cheap leather gloves for which we were extremely grateful as temperatures plummeted. Nevertheless, our desire to travel independently was born in Athens and we avoided organised trips to the consternation of the other members of our party. They regularly asked at dinner which trip we had been on and we always answered with one they'd never heard of!
Towards the end of the week, confidence rising, a train trip to Corinth, crossing the Corinthian Canal, was planned. After all, how hard could it be securing train tickets? We had our Berlitz Greek Phrasebook after all. The Greek people are inordinately patient, fortunately, and, after about 25 minutes at the ticket office, that hurdle was passed and we boarded the train.
Clearly more for local traffic than tourists we were surprised to be sharing a carriage with an assortment of ducks, goats and a pig on a piece of string. Halfway to Corinth, and so as not to miss the view passing over the Corinthian Canal, a visit to the toilet was suggested. Not wanting to be left alone with the menagerie, Mrs M decided to join me. Not literally, obviously! A fine panelled cubicle awaited us and, on flushing, a canvas flap slid back giving an excellent view of the track passing below the train. On our return the farmer and his family trooped off to avail themselves of the air-conditioned facilities. I was left holding the pig on the piece of string.
Shortly afterwards, having secured a single photograph of the Corinthian Canal as it flashed past we arrived in Corinth - or rather we didn't.
It was a beautifully warm, sunny day as we stepped from the train onto the platform of a quiet but well-kept colonial-style station. Panelled walls led to grand doors opening out to...
...a field. The train rumbled off over the horizon, we stood looking at the scene before us and each other. Apart from the station we were the only things as far as the eye could see. A well-trodden path headed off up a gentle slope...oh b*gger!
