Rhodes - Day Three
With the 'kids' asleep in the nursery downstairs, the two couples on the trip found themselves in adjoining apartments at the top of the hill. Ou respective terraces were offset somewhat so as to offer a nominal amount of privacy. To maintain a conversation over breakfast, therefore, requires a certain amount of good old-fashioned windae-hinging.
So whilst Kirsty and Knitted Guffmonkey went about their business, we set about (quietly) discussing the aesthetic merits of those who had taken up residence around the infinity pool adjoining our apartments. This proved to be an educational experience, as Amy finally learned what a Tramp Stamp was, having wondered aloud how a homeless person could afford a tattoo.
The infinity pool was the focus of the morning's lounging and I was once again tempted back in the water, even if I was stretching the limit of my comfort depth. Ewan floundered across the pool proclaiming himself to be a Manta Ray. Which we all assume to be rhyming slang for something or other.
For lunch, it was back to the roof terraces of Lindos and one with some suitably shade-giving vines (and wines). Then it was time for an amble towards the ruined amphitheatre to re-enact the greats of classical Greek drama: comedy, tragedy, and the Sound of Music. Nearby St Paul's Bay (our second of the summer, there being one in Malta too) offered us some pretty views, as well as some manky cars, with graffiti dating from 2006...and 2011 as Charlie added to it on Jonathan's behalf.
Afterwards, it was back to the main square to find ourselves a Lindos Taxi (or donkey as they are more commonly known) to climb the hill to the Acropalypse (sic). We were paired off and mounted on our donkeys (Charlie's donkey was far more on the ball than mine, who kept threatening to veer towards the ditch), and a selection of slightly overweight, out-of-breath, Greek men shepherded each pair to the top of the hill. How they managed to be so overweight and out of breath walking that hill every day, I don't know - maybe they stop to admire the amazing views of the bay along the way.
The views at the Acropolis are even better, even if they have a somewhat lackadaisical approach to Health & Safety when it comes to roping off precipitous drops. The history itself was gorgeous with medieval, Byzantine, and Hellenic masonry thrown in for good measure, and some more amazing views for bonus points. Although on a smaller scale, I had flashbacks to my school trip to the Athens parthenon, as I climbed the propylaia (i.e. gateway) steps to have the temple to Athena revealed to me.
Some cool refreshment ensued before we descended under our own steam (since we had been warned not to trust the donkeys - who have a tendency to gallop downhill when they know food is waiting at the bottom).
Friday Night is Fruit Night at the Lindos Gardens, and we were all pleasantly surprised at the quality of the souvlaki barbecue. The complimentary fruit exceeded expectations with the Baklava thrown in amongst the juicy watermelon to keep Ewan happy. Sadly, the live entertainment kept no one happy as Kostas tried to persuade us all to rock out to his somewhat dated musical stylings, all accompanied by his own guitar as well as his own backing vocals (several layers thereof, thanks to a rather unfortunate chorus function).
We beat a hasty retreat to the terrace at the Nursery, where more wine was consumed at a safe distance and Ewan donned a towel-loincloth to bestride the balcony wall like, well less of a Colossus and more of a Ewan, frankly.
So whilst Kirsty and Knitted Guffmonkey went about their business, we set about (quietly) discussing the aesthetic merits of those who had taken up residence around the infinity pool adjoining our apartments. This proved to be an educational experience, as Amy finally learned what a Tramp Stamp was, having wondered aloud how a homeless person could afford a tattoo.
The infinity pool was the focus of the morning's lounging and I was once again tempted back in the water, even if I was stretching the limit of my comfort depth. Ewan floundered across the pool proclaiming himself to be a Manta Ray. Which we all assume to be rhyming slang for something or other.
For lunch, it was back to the roof terraces of Lindos and one with some suitably shade-giving vines (and wines). Then it was time for an amble towards the ruined amphitheatre to re-enact the greats of classical Greek drama: comedy, tragedy, and the Sound of Music. Nearby St Paul's Bay (our second of the summer, there being one in Malta too) offered us some pretty views, as well as some manky cars, with graffiti dating from 2006...and 2011 as Charlie added to it on Jonathan's behalf.
Afterwards, it was back to the main square to find ourselves a Lindos Taxi (or donkey as they are more commonly known) to climb the hill to the Acropalypse (sic). We were paired off and mounted on our donkeys (Charlie's donkey was far more on the ball than mine, who kept threatening to veer towards the ditch), and a selection of slightly overweight, out-of-breath, Greek men shepherded each pair to the top of the hill. How they managed to be so overweight and out of breath walking that hill every day, I don't know - maybe they stop to admire the amazing views of the bay along the way.
The views at the Acropolis are even better, even if they have a somewhat lackadaisical approach to Health & Safety when it comes to roping off precipitous drops. The history itself was gorgeous with medieval, Byzantine, and Hellenic masonry thrown in for good measure, and some more amazing views for bonus points. Although on a smaller scale, I had flashbacks to my school trip to the Athens parthenon, as I climbed the propylaia (i.e. gateway) steps to have the temple to Athena revealed to me.
Some cool refreshment ensued before we descended under our own steam (since we had been warned not to trust the donkeys - who have a tendency to gallop downhill when they know food is waiting at the bottom).
Friday Night is Fruit Night at the Lindos Gardens, and we were all pleasantly surprised at the quality of the souvlaki barbecue. The complimentary fruit exceeded expectations with the Baklava thrown in amongst the juicy watermelon to keep Ewan happy. Sadly, the live entertainment kept no one happy as Kostas tried to persuade us all to rock out to his somewhat dated musical stylings, all accompanied by his own guitar as well as his own backing vocals (several layers thereof, thanks to a rather unfortunate chorus function).
We beat a hasty retreat to the terrace at the Nursery, where more wine was consumed at a safe distance and Ewan donned a towel-loincloth to bestride the balcony wall like, well less of a Colossus and more of a Ewan, frankly.