Brian Abbott’s Blog

16-17 October

Today is my final full day in Greece; tomorrow morning, I head for the airport. The question is, where will I be sleeping tonight? I want to be somewhat close to the Athens airport, but I am not familiar with that area. My guidebook does not mention too much beyond Cape Sounion, about an hour south of the airport. I’d never heard of Cape Sounion until Mel mentioned the Temple of Poseidon (located at the cape) and Angie, a friend at the conference, mentioned the temple and the cape. I’ll see what accommodations the area offers later this afternoon.

I drove for about an hour this morning to the ancient site of Epidavros on the Argolic Peninsula. Across the Saronic Gulf to the northeast is Athens. Epidavros is famous for its 3rd-century theater, which is still in use today.

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The theater is indeed amazing. I’ve seen ancient theaters in Athens and Delphi, but this one is intact and much larger than the others. It seats 14,000 people and the acoustics are perfect. It’s said that if someone drops a coin on stage, you can hear it clearly in the last row. That particular test would be impossible today, given the two groups of obnoxious teenagers who were making barnyard noises, belching, and talking.

Every now and then, staff from the site stand on the center stone and perform a few readings. I couldn’t help imagine, as I did at the Acropolis and in Delphi, the many thousands of people who sat in these very seats before me. What entertained them 2,000 years ago?

I scaled the stone structure from top to bottom and around the perimeter. I took many pictures, here are two:

That’s me in the ancient theater at Epidavros.

Looking down an aisle in the theater at Epidavros. All aisles point to the center stone, where the performer stands and delivers.

Finally, the teenagers left and took their goat and cow noises with them. I, too, left the theater and explored the rest of the ancient city here. Frankly, there is not much to see. In ancient times, Epidavros was a place to go to be cured of your ailments. People from as far as Rome came here to visit the sanctuary to Asclepius, the god of medicine.

In the ancient city there were hospitals, a convalescent, and long-term care facilities. Most of these structures are mere foundations today, but the Greek government is restoring the site. Why, I’m not sure, but they press on year after year.

Nothing else here was as impressive as the theater. I toured the other sites and visited the small museum, but soon hit the road to find a place to stay tonight.

The road north is very curvy and passes through tree-covered mountains that occasionally open up to views of the deep-blue sea. I passed through only a few towns, including Katakali and Almiri. Sensing I was nearing the highway, I stopped to get some food and drink from a kiosk along the side of the road. As I said earlier, these are for the locals and the person inside generally knows everyone who stops by for a paper, cigarettes, or a bottle of soda. I pulled over and picked up a few things to tide me over till dinner and the girl inside said something to me followed by a wink. I’ll never know what she said, but I sure did allow my imagination to run wild.

The road joins the highway at Isthmia, the ancient town on the south end of the five-mile-wide Isthmus of Corinth which connects the Peloponnesus to Attica. Just a few minutes after entering the highway, I was crossing the Corinth Canal, a deep trench below the road. The canal connects the Ionian and Aegean Seas and was dreamt about since the 7th century BC. It was not until Nero, in the year 67, that the digging began. The canal was built by 6,000 Jewish prisoners, but was interrupted by invasions and soon abandoned. As it turns out, the canal was not completed until the late 1800s by a French company. The result is impressive: a deep trench that is only 70 feet wide. It saves about 200 nautical miles off a mariner’s journey.

Heading back toward Athens, I took the by-pass around the city and continued until the highway ended shortly after the airport. I was heading to the Temple of Poseidon at Cape Sounion. The towns along this road are mainly industrial, nothing too pretty here. I was on the lookout for a place to stay and paying close attention to the route, as I may need to drive back here tomorrow morning on my way to the airport.

After Lavrio, the road narrowed and became more scenic. I wasn’t sure where the temple was, and I took a few wrong turns, but I kept following the road and eventually reached the site at the southern tip of the Attica peninsula. It was about 4 o’clock by now and the light was wonderful, not a cloud in the sky. I walked up to the monument, paid the €4 admission, and wandered around. There were a few tours here, but it was not mobbed.

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The tawny color of the earth, contrasted with the indigo sea and the azure sky, was a sight to behold. The Temple of Poseidon was built around the same time as the Parthenon in 444 BC. In ancient times, it was an important landmark to sailors returning home to Athens, just as the skyscrapers of Manhattan are for New Yorkers today.

The Temple of Poseidon at Cape Sounion.

Cape Sounion, Greece.

A church near the Tempe of Poseidon at Cape Sounion.

After touring the site, I jumped in the car to get a bite to eat. I’d not eaten anything substantial today. I got a table at a seaside taverna below the temple. I had some octopus along with the bean dish I’ve not tried yet. This is a dish of large kidney beans cooked in a light, tomato-based sauce. It was good, but the octopus was better. Washed it down with my last ΑΛΦΑ beer as I watched the sun descend toward the horizon.

I asked the waiter about places to stay in the area. There are only four. The swanky hotel just across the street, a hotel up the road to the west, a hotel up the road to the east, and a campground. Well, the luxury hotel on the sea was beyond my tight budget, and the waiter recommended the Hotel Saron on the east coast road over the other hotel. I passed the Hotel Saron on my way here, so I went back to check it out. The receptionist was Polish and was asking €75 for the night. Not much of a choice, unless I want to stay in the campground. The room was adequate, and that’s about all I can say about it.

The hotel is dead, nothing to walk to and no one to talk to. I jumped in the car and headed to Lavrio, a town to the north, where I got a calling card and talked to Mel for about an hour at a phone booth.

I arrived back at my room, watched a little Greek television, and went to sleep. I needed to wake up early to allow for the additional time to reach the airport. My flight takes off at 12:20 in the afternoon.

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I woke up first around 5 AM and again just before my 7 AM wake-up call. I was out of the hotel by 8, bypassing the free breakfast which I imagined to be a waste of my time. The road to the airport was pretty empty. I filled the gas tank last night, leaving me with about €35 for the rest of the trip. The money worked out perfectly, despite the fact that I lost my ATM card.

I arrived at the airport before 9, returned the car (I was relieved that he didn’t say anything about the bird poop), and headed to departures where a group of us had congregated waiting for the ticket counter to open. Once they did open, I got a bite to eat in the airport, relaxed for a bit, then headed for the gate.

At 11 AM, the airline gate attendants arrived and proceeded to kick everyone out to the chairs in the next gate. I scored the only plug in the room for my laptop so that I could begin sorting through the 1,000 photos I shot, and now I was being asked to give that up? They told us the gate didn’t open until 11:15, which felt like a cruel joke, Greek style.

The flight back to New York was not as pleasant as my flight here. I was on an aisle, but in the middle section with three rather large people. The guy next to me had no concept of personal space either. And, he was not very talkative to boot. We arrived in New York safe and sound at four in the afternoon (11 PM Greek time).

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For the most part, Greece lived up to my expectations. The mountains emanate a delightful pine scent while the valleys are a bit dry and scrubby. The roads are pretty good and the signage is good too. I only lost my way a few times, and never for very long.

In a strange way, Greece made me appreciate how stable the world is today. Every place I visited has witnessed legendary wars and the downfall of empires. Thousands of years ago, people were being attacked from all sides, so much of their effort in life went toward defending what they have. Some may argue this is just as true today, but I believe the world is far more stable today than it was centuries ago. Perhaps this is due to the emergence of superpowers, or technological advances that allow us to see what’s coming, but today I feel like we have it easy. Hopefully civilization will continue to evolve in this direction. (Given what is happening today, I’m not so sure it will.)

I hate to besmirch the reputation of the food in Greece, but I was not overwhelmed by the offerings. First, with the exception of a few restaurants, I was not impressed with the quality of the food. Yes, they use fresh ingredients and it was a pleasure to hear “that’s not in season right now,” but the meat was often overcooked and not of great quality. Second, the variety on the menu was nonexistent. Every place, again, with the exception of a few, offers exactly the same menu. By the third day I swore off Greek salad and souvlaki altogether. However, the wine was incredibly cheap and pretty good. I never paid over €3 for a glass of wine. Perhaps this compensates for the uninspiring food.

On the whole I loved Greece and I was lucky enough to see a wide variety of places. From the hustle of Athens, to the scenic mountains and monasteries at Meteora, to the prestigious ancient city of Delphi in its idyllic setting, to the Venetian town of Nafplio on the coast. Each of these gave me a different impression of Greece and its people that I will remember for a long time.

When I return to Greece, I would like to see a few of the islands and more of the mainland too. I hear Thessaloniki, Greece’s second-largest city, is wonderful. I would like to have seen Olympia, the tiny Venetian town of Monemvasia, and the islands of Santorini, Crete, Rhodes, and others. Perhaps even venture over to Turkey and Istanbul, which is not too far from the Greek border. But, for now, I am content with my memories from Greece and will treasure them always.

14-16 October

A Venetian city in Greece, you ask? Yes, this city was once part of the powerful Republic of Venice, but I’ll talk more about that later.

For now, I am heading to Nafplio from Delphi. There is no direct way to get there from here. Either I go east to Thiva (ancient Thebes), head south toward Athens, then turn west to the Peloponnesus. Or, I can drive west along the Gulf of Corinth, cross to the Peloponnesus over the newly built Rio-Antirio bridge near Patra, then head east along the water to Nafplio. Six of one, half a dozen of the other—let’s take the water route over the bridge.

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The Rio-Antirio bridge is awesome, a work of modern, architectural art. Opened in 2004, the cable-stayed bridge was proposed over 100 years before it was built. Still mindful of my cash flow problem, I was shocked at the €10.90 toll to cross (that’s about $15!). The bridge crosses the Strait of Rion, the western entry to the Gulf of Corinth.

I’m heading for the Rio-Antirio bridge. The bridge appeared on the horizon over an hour before I reached it. The heights of its towers are only bested by the mountains that surround them.

Getting closer… Athens, Agrinio, and Antirio to the right, Itea and Nafpaktos to the left.

Crossing the Rio-Antirio bridge produces odd perspective effects. Here the suspension cables appear to be radiating in all directions from the massive central pier.

The Rio-Antirio bridge from the toll plaza on the Peloponnesus. The bridge’s official name is the Charilaos Trikoupis Bridge after the 19th century prime minister who first suggested building a bridge here linking the Peloponnesus and the Greek mainland.

Now I turn east along the southern coast of the Gulf of Corinth. The road to Corinth is mostly two-lane, but people drive like it’s a four-lane highway. It is customary to ride in the shoulder of the road so faster drivers can pass.

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I was a little concerned about finding my hotel in Nafplio. It’s in the old part of town, where it’s not really prudent or possible to drive. After a detour, I arrived in Nafplio and followed the signs to the old town, parking beside a large town square.

I walked into the old section and, with some difficulty, found the Hotel Byron. The hotel is named for Lord Byron, the 19th-century Romantic poet from Britian whose most famous work is Don Juan. He is well regarded in Greece for his participation in the War of Independence from the Turks; there is a monument to him in Nafplio. He traveled throughout Greece, looking for love and adventure. Besides a hotel in Nafplio, he has an asteroid named for him (thought I’d bring us back to astronomy for a moment).

The view from my hotel is wonderful. What a magical place!

The view from my room in the Hotel Byron, Nafplio.

I showered and set out to explore the town. Along the way, I spotted the couple I’d met in Meteora on the street and looking at their guidebook. “Are you lost?” I asked as I snuck up on them.

Soon I found a place to eat, but I was the only person in the place. It came recommended from my Lonely Planet guide, so I knew it must be okay, but it was odd to be the only one in the restaurant. I had the pork stew, which was yummy. After, I tracked down the Italian homemade gelato parlor which also came highly recommended by my guidebook.

I strolled around town eating my ice cream, which was amazing, then turned in early. Tomorrow I will explore the town and the surrounding fortresses.

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As I mentioned before, Nafplio was once part of the Most Serene Republic of Venice (yes, that was its official name). At their apex, they held land in Italy, down the Croatian coast, in Greece and Turkey, and occupied the island of Cyprus. They funded explorers like Marco Polo and backed the Crusades, earning favors around Europe.

Nafplio was occupied by the Byzantines, then the French, and in 1377 the Venetians arrived but were soon ousted by the Ottomans. The Venetians returned in 1685 and fortified the city, but this was the last gasp of the Venetian empire. In a little over 100 years, the 1,100-year empire would be divvied up between Napoleon, the Austrians, and the Turks.

Today, the city resembles a quaint, Italian town with pastel houses and white-washed alleyways. During the Greek War of Independence the city was under siege for an entire year. Its fortifications are so strong, it was made the first capital of Greece after independence from the Turks in 1829. After Ioannis Kapodistrias, the first head of state of independent Greece, was assassinated here, his successor moved the capital to Athens in 1834.

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I woke up this morning and looked at my watch. It said 10.15, but it was still pretty dark outside. Was it going to be a rainy day? A ship arrived over night, its lighted masts towered over the terracotta roofs. I got up, showered, and prepared to hit the town. Then, I looked at my watch again. Turns out I was looking at the date and it was only 8:30 in the morning. Damn! Well, I was awake now, so I may as well venture out.

I walked up to the lower fort today called the Akronafplia Fortress. It sits on a ridge that shelters the town from the south. In fact, Nafplio is one of the best harbor cities in the world, which is why it was a prized military target. The town faces north toward a small harbor that opens up to the Argolic Gulf to the south. The ridges and mountains are placed perfectly to watch the water to the south and the land to the east and north.

The Akronafplia Fortress rests on the ridge that hugs the city; it was the acropolis of Nafplio. The earliest fortifications date from the 2nd century BC, but most of the remaining structures were built by the Venetians in the 15th century.

Akronafplia Fortress is the oldest of Nafplio’s fortifications. In ancient times (before this fortress was built) it was the local acropolis, but later the city moved below the ridge.

Entryway to the Akronafplia Fortress. Carved upon a stone tablet over the door is the lion of Saint Marco, the Venetian symbol which adorned their flag.

A window looking south to the Argolic Gulf from the Akronafplia Fortress.

Much of the ridge is covered in prickly pear cacti and, as I walked the length of the ridge, I discovered that they are covered with snails.

A small snail on a prickly pear cactus at the Akronafplia Fortress.

A snail on the fallen fruit from a prickly pear cactus.

Because this is a relatively recent construction, there are no limitations to where you can explore. I walked into rooms, through tunnels, and onto ramparts without ropes or restriction. And, I was completely alone, not a soul around.

From here, the city appears as a clustering of continuous terracotta. I returned to town and walked around awhile before lunch. Frankly, the town isn’t all that big, something I would come to realize by the end of the day.

It is said that Nafplio is one of the most beautiful cities in Greece, and I can see why. Quaint, narrow streets and alleyways lined with pastel houses and couples strolling. And the quintessential cat around each corner.

Cat on a Nafplio street.

Here’s a cat posing in a Nafplio alleyway.

One of many beautiful streets in Nafplio.

I ate lunch at a restaurant called Mezedopoleio O Noulis and, in typical fashion, I was the only one there—tourist season is certainly coming to an end. When I walk into a restaurant, the chef’s break is over. After, I will climb the steps to the Palamidi Fortress, the state-of-the-art military compound built in the 1710s.

Local lore says there are 999 steps to the top. I did not count, but I’d say that’s about right. The stairs begin in town and continue to the top of the 700-foot mountain. I hoofed it up there; it’s really not that difficult. Stopped along the way to take in the view (and catch my breath).

The view of Nafplio from halfway up the stairs to Palamidi Fortress.

Nafplio and the Akronafplia Fortress from the Palamidi Fortress.

(The previous two pictures were taken on my last day in Nafplio. I hiked up the steps in the morning once more because the Sun finally came out. The previous two days were cloudy.)

The fortress was the last major fort built by the Venetians before their empire collapsed. Palamidi and Akronafplia Fortresses were used as political prisons into the 20th century.

An interior yard at the Palamidi Fortress, home to the garrison commander.

The Bourtzi island fortress from Palamidi. Bourtzi was built in 1471, but used as a hotel from 1930 to 1970.

I sat on a wall overlooking Nafplio for some time. I wrote in my journal and people-watched. It was a cool, breezy day and there was one group of Russian teenagers touring the place—an invasion of another kind. After being chased from my solitude by these kids, I explored the fort, creeping through tiny crawl-spaces that open up into stone-walled, windowless prison cells. I found a large, underground room down some steps, but it was kind of dark and spooky; the floor was muddy with a large pool of stagnant water and there was only one small window near the ceiling.

Soon I descended the 1,000 steps to town and explored the streets. Around 4 o’clock, I heard chanting and prayers from one of the churches in town. I headed over to see what was happening.

Greek Orthodox priest heading to church with his family.

An orthodox priest being interviewed for television. What’s going on today? There was a crowd to get into the church and men collecting money outside the doors.

I continued to walk around town. To the main square, down to the pier, and around the narrow alleyways. I settled on a place for dinner and asked the waiter what was happening at the church this afternoon. He then asked another waiter who said that the head of a saint had arrived in town and was on display in the church.

Night fell and I snapped a few more pictures.

Syntagmatos Plaza, the main square in Nafplio lined with cafes and government buildings.

The island fortress Bourtzi.

Illuminated, the Palamidi Fortress looms over town at night.

One of the many stray dogs in Nafplio waiting beside a taverna for a hand-out. Having spent some time in this town, I have come to know many of the stray dogs, who I ran into again and again as they roamed the city.

Truthfully, I was a little bored this evening. Maybe I’ve seen all that Nafplio has to offer; maybe I’m lonely and desire a quality conversation, something I’ve not had since leaving Athens days ago. I thought about going to a bar, just to talk to someone, but decided against it. I went to bed early and looked forward to getting on the road tomorrow morning.

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The clouds finally cleared this morning, motivating me to run around town and take some photos before checking out of my hotel. I visited a bakery and grabbed a fresh apple turnover and some juice and took my last shots of the lovely town of Nafplio.

The Bourtzi Fort with a ship heading to sea.

White-washed wall and pastel house in Nafplio.

A typical street scene in Nafplio with priest.

A covered alley in the old part of Nafplio.

I packed my things and lugged them back to the car, which was parked outside the old town. The birds had not been kind to me over the past day; the car was covered in poop. As I drove out of town I stopped to get gas, another €35, and tried to remove the poop from the windows. The attendant was telling me I needed hot water, but we did our best.

Nafplio was a wonderful town, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I have yet to visit Italy, but this town is probably the closest I’ve come. The town’s quaint streets and alleys remind me of a quieter existence, where life’s pace is slower. I wish I had someone to share it with.

Today, I’m off to Epidavros to see the best preserved ancient theater in the world, then I’m heading for the Temple of Poseidon, where I will spend my last night in Greece.

13-14 October

After lunch in Kalambaka near the monasteries of Meteora, I jumped in the car and headed south to Delphi. Once considered to be the center of the world, Delphi is the most important ancient site in Greece and the Delphic oracle was the most influential in Classical Greece.

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I returned to Lamia, then headed south along a winding, mountain road toward the Corinthian Gulf and Delphi. The scenery along the road was wonderful and there was very little traffic.

Mountains along the road to Delphi.

I passed this hillside town near Amfissa, just a few minutes away from Delphi. Below the town is a huge valley filled with olive trees. I was torn. Part of me wanted to go explore this town. Park the car and walk around. But, I also wanted to get out of the car, check into the hotel, and see what the town of Delphi has to offer.

Here’s a shot of my car, the Opel Corsa, on my way to Delphi.

Below Delphi is a valley filled with olive trees. The sea of green trees meets the blue Gulf of Corinth, separating northern Greece from the Peloponnesus.

I settled into my small room overlooking Delphi’s main street, then explored the town. I watched the sunset from a cliff overlooking the valley, after which I grabbed dinner at the Lonely-Planet-recommended Taverna Vakhos. It was by far the best food I’ve eaten in Greece thus far. I ate a seasonal salad along with a whole snapper with fresh, in-season vegetables, rice, and some wine.

For the first time, I actually ordered dessert. A tour of the offerings from my waiter revealed four choices: chocolate cake, tiramisu, walnut cake, and something that was untranslatable. The chocolate cake and tiramisu seemed boring, while the walnut cake and the other dessert were Greek specialties. I chose the untranslatable cake. As I was eating it, the waiter asked me if I knew how to describe this in English, and I did not. It is called Ekmek Kataifi (Εκμέκ Καταϊφι), and it is a layered sweet with kataifi pastry under egg custard and vanilla cream icing. It was tasty and light.

Satisfied by a wonderful meal, I walked around town for a bit taking a few snapshots.

The main church in the modern town of Delphi.

This is the view from my balcony in Delphi. The modern town of Delphi is a quaint mountain town that resembles a small, alpine village.

A road in modern Delphi.

Delphi, center frame, clings to the mountainside high above the Gulf of Corinth.

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Ancient Delphi presents an entirely different experience high up in these mountains. After checking out of my hotel this morning, I grabbed a fresh-squeezed orange juice and walked about a kilometer to the ancient city.

I wanted to get there early to beat the mobs of people from tour buses. I arrived at 8:30 (they open at 7:30), and rushed to the monument saving the museum for later. I walked into the site and headed up to the top where the theater and the stadium are located.

I was the only one here. It was just me and the birds, which reminded me of the western canyon wren.

I made it up to the stadium and I still did not see a soul. I was blown away by the stadium. How many people must have sat and watched sporting events and concerts held here? I did a rough estimate, counting the number of seats in one row, the number of rows in one section, and the number of sections in the stadium. Turns out, the stadium sat about 6,500. Its stone seating extends the 177-meter length of the stadium and ends in a horseshoe curve in the back. The seating on the opposite side has largely been destroyed.

This is the entrance to the stadium at Delphi. First built in the 5th century BC and later remodeled in the 2nd century AD, the stadium held 6,500 spectators and is 177 meters long.

On my way down, I toured the 5,000-seat theater.

The theater at Delphi was built in the 4th century BC and its 35 rows sat about 5,000 people.

View of the theater at Delphi from its stage.

Below the theater is the most important monument of the ancient city: the Temple of Apollo. Inside the temple, the Delphic oracle, Pythia, would breathe fumes that emanated from cracks in the Earth, then fall into a trance and begin speaking in tongues and riddles. No major decision among the Greek city-states was made without consulting the oracle at Delphi.

The remains of the Temple of Apollo, where the Delphic oracle advised Greek rulers from the 8th century BC to 393 AD, when the Romans ordered all pagan temples closed.

Flowers bloom near the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.

The wall supporting the Temple of Apollo. This is a pre-Roman construction, signified by the irregularity of the stones. The architect carved the names of the slaves who built the temple on these stones. Later, the Romans took over and carved regular, rectangular stone walls and sewers, which remain today.

I spent about two and a half hours on the site and by now the buses had arrived. And, along with the buses come the tour guides, taking uninterested kids through the site. At the bottom of the site, I sat for a minute to book my hotel for tonight in Nafplio. I opened my guide book, chose a hotel, and called them on my cell phone. Within a few minutes, about seven cats were surrounding me.

Cats swarmed as I sat down to book a hotel for tonight.

After the main site, I walked another half-mile down the road to the ancient gymnasium and the Sanctuary of Athena. To my delight, there were very few people here. I walked to the Tholos at the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia only to discover there were five people on the opposite side of the temple.

We began to talk and I recognized one man’s voice as belonging to a group of annoying Americans in the restaurant last night. They were from Atlanta and, based on my eavesdropping over dinner last night, they were hairdressers. They asked me if they were in my way, and I responded politely that they were fine. A minute later they were standing beside the round sanctuary, holding hands in a circle and chanting. Between these people and the group prayer I witnessed at the Acropolis, I was left wondering why Americans are so damn freakish. Why do they feel they need to foist their religious displays upon others?

Tholos at the Sanctuary of Athena, a round temple down the hill from the main ruins at Delphi.

The cult people left and I was able to explore the site on my own. It was beginning to rain a little and I didn’t have my jacket, so I rushed over to the gymnasium. Guess who I ran into there?

They were sitting inside the round bath, once fed by a spring and used by athletes. I was waiting for them to be kicked out by the guard, but he didn’t notice for about 15 minutes. The fact that these people knew better only increased my animosity toward them.

The gymnasium at Delphi. In the foreground is the track, below which is the round bath under an old olive tree (center frame).

I hiked back up to the road and headed to the museum, where many of the artifacts from the site are displayed. The most striking figure to me was the melancholy Roman:

The melancholy Roman in the museum at Delphi. No one knows who this is, but it is believed to be the Roman general and consul Titus Quinctius Flamininus, who proclaimed the autonomy of the Greek states at Corinth in 197 BC.

Having lucked out with the rain, I headed back to town on this gray day to grab lunch. The food was so good last night that I decided to return to the Taverna Vakhos. I had a fresh beet salad, which consisted of three huge slices of the most flavorful beets I’ve ever had in a little olive oil, along with a lamb stew. Today, I tried the walnut cake, the other Greek speciality on the dessert menu. He put “the sweet” on the house.

After lunch, I got in the car and began my trip to Nafplio, the Venetian, seaside city on the Peloponnesus.