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nausicaa83Much sooner than (I) expected, here's the first part of The Epic Rhodes Post. I got a little crazy with the pictures, that's why I had to split it into two parts. ^^"
Obligatory first picture: breakfast at the railway station! We had to take a train to get to the airport, and that meant waking up really early in the morning.
Our room. That's five minutes after we came in, I didn't take a picture of the mess my baggage had turned into after that. The hotel was nice, but the only really good quality was the location: five minutes from the beach, five minutes from the old town. Other than that, breakfast sucked A LOT, the bathroom door was broken, and our window was right on top of a night club, and they played loud music every night up until 4 am. So, beach, old town, that's it.
The harbour where the Colossus should have been. There was never any statue like the ones they sell at souvenir shops (legs spread open where the two colmuns stand now), but it's thrilling to be there nonetheless. The statues are a deer and a doe, the symbols of Rhodes.
This is what we had for lunch and dinner everyday: lamb. It was so good you have no idea.
Yours truly standing where one of the Colossus' legs should have been, except not really, but who cares. During the week I proceeded to destroy that bag by trying to turn it into Mary Poppins' bag (and I almost succeeded!), so I had to buy a new one.
The Walls of the city. There are two sets of them, all around the Old Town, and then there's the Palace of the Grand Master. So this is the first day of my cunning attempt as an Assassin to infiltrate the hideous Templar fortress and slaughter everyone inside. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Muwawawawa.
Having found no access to the secret templar hideout, we stopped at a bar to drink iced tea and take pictures of the clock tower.
And then we entered a Mosque, probably only open to tourists, because they only asked us to take off our shoes but not to cover our heads. I did it anyway, because otherwise it felt awkward. But since I was wearing my green shorts, it felt uncomfortable anyway. Oops.
The Mosque. Really pretty.
See what I mean? And that's my trusted hat, I bought it in Japan back in 2009 and it's my favourite.
Shopping time!
The view from the Clock Tower. You could even climb inside the tower and get higher, but my stupid vertigo kicked in halfway through, so I had to close my eyes and get back down.
On monday evening I had my first accident. Did I ever tell you I'm clumsy? That's the amount of clumsy I am: on the way down, I tripped on the stairs in the hotel (in my defense, there was almost no light, and the steps were very high), I fell, bruised my right knee and twisted my right ankle. Didn't break it or anything, but it hurt. Luckly I had a couple of painkillers with me, so that kept me going. Still, clumsy.
Right after the accident, in front of the entrance to the Old Town. I bought that pink scarf on the first day, and I wore it everyday.
We had dinner on the terrace of a restaurant right in front of the clock tower. Really romantic. My ankle still hurt like fuck, but I was going to appreciate the evening even if it killed me.
On tuesday we visited the Old Jewish Quarter in Rhodes. Now, a little bit of history: Italians came here during Fascism. They conquered the island, exploited it, made a couple of dance parties in honour of that stupid king we had back then, and then took all 2500 Hebrews that lived on Rhodes and sent them with their regards to Birkenau. Only 155 of them came back alive. Yes, it happened in the fourties, but still it's my cultural heritage, and I've never felt so ashamed to be Italian in my whole life. That's my people who did that.
So, we decide to visit the synagogue and the museum. There was this nice man who greeted us at the entrance and proceeded to explain us everything about the musem. While he was talking he was waving his hands about a lot, and since I was standing right in front of him I saw the tattoo on his forearm. Remember how I felt ashamed just by walking in the synagogue? That felt like a punch to the stomach. So I'm standing there frozen on the spot cursing every ancestor I ever had when he gets to the part that he's one of the survivors, and shows us both his tattoo. I mumble an apology, and he smiles at me very sweetly and says that he's happy to see two Italian girls coming all the way here (he had been really surprised at the entrance when we had said that we were from Italy, and no, we weren't jewish), and that meant that a new generation didn't want to fall into the same mistakes of the old one. At that point I was on the verge of tears, so we moved into the museum and he said to come back when we were finished to say goodbye.
We took some pictures, bought a few things at the gift shop, where everyone was so kind because we had no idea what anything was for, because apparently only jewish people visit that synagogue and that makes no sense, but the girl there was very sweet and explained everything to us. When we came back to the entrance of the synagogue the nice man was busy talking to other tourists, so we had to go away. We came back on friday, and he was surprised to see we had come back just to say goodbye, so he asked us if we wanted to take a picture together, which we did and then he put his hands on our heads and blessed us for our journey back home.
So, the point is, travelling and seeing new places is great, but it's the people you meet that make the journey unforgettable.
And now, a little game of Where's Waldo. Waldo in this case is a grey greek cat that I almost stepped on because seriously. It was the same colour of the road! Luckly Monica stopped me just before I landed on it.
The other harbour, the one with a bazillion of boats. We walked along the walls here everyday, the air was sweet and salty, and it was fun to look at the boats.
We were so lucky to get there on the week of the full moon, so we took lots of pictures like this one.
By now, it was time to infiltrate the Palace of the Grand Master. Observe how I innocently play my part as a curious tourist. The Templars will never know what hit them.
Templars everywhere! The nerve on them!
This reminded me so much of Ezio's room with the portraits that I laughed out loud in the middle of the room. Luckly Monica is used to me being a little crazy.
Having failed my assassination attempt (curse you, grand Master! Curse you!), I sat a while on a freaking cannon to take some rest, because hardcore assassin, you know.
Hope you enjoyed this first part, stay tuned tomorrow for the second part and more stupid commentary!
Obligatory first picture: breakfast at the railway station! We had to take a train to get to the airport, and that meant waking up really early in the morning.
Our room. That's five minutes after we came in, I didn't take a picture of the mess my baggage had turned into after that. The hotel was nice, but the only really good quality was the location: five minutes from the beach, five minutes from the old town. Other than that, breakfast sucked A LOT, the bathroom door was broken, and our window was right on top of a night club, and they played loud music every night up until 4 am. So, beach, old town, that's it.
The harbour where the Colossus should have been. There was never any statue like the ones they sell at souvenir shops (legs spread open where the two colmuns stand now), but it's thrilling to be there nonetheless. The statues are a deer and a doe, the symbols of Rhodes.
This is what we had for lunch and dinner everyday: lamb. It was so good you have no idea.
Yours truly standing where one of the Colossus' legs should have been, except not really, but who cares. During the week I proceeded to destroy that bag by trying to turn it into Mary Poppins' bag (and I almost succeeded!), so I had to buy a new one.
The Walls of the city. There are two sets of them, all around the Old Town, and then there's the Palace of the Grand Master. So this is the first day of my cunning attempt as an Assassin to infiltrate the hideous Templar fortress and slaughter everyone inside. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Muwawawawa.
Having found no access to the secret templar hideout, we stopped at a bar to drink iced tea and take pictures of the clock tower.
And then we entered a Mosque, probably only open to tourists, because they only asked us to take off our shoes but not to cover our heads. I did it anyway, because otherwise it felt awkward. But since I was wearing my green shorts, it felt uncomfortable anyway. Oops.
The Mosque. Really pretty.
See what I mean? And that's my trusted hat, I bought it in Japan back in 2009 and it's my favourite.
Shopping time!
The view from the Clock Tower. You could even climb inside the tower and get higher, but my stupid vertigo kicked in halfway through, so I had to close my eyes and get back down.
On monday evening I had my first accident. Did I ever tell you I'm clumsy? That's the amount of clumsy I am: on the way down, I tripped on the stairs in the hotel (in my defense, there was almost no light, and the steps were very high), I fell, bruised my right knee and twisted my right ankle. Didn't break it or anything, but it hurt. Luckly I had a couple of painkillers with me, so that kept me going. Still, clumsy.
Right after the accident, in front of the entrance to the Old Town. I bought that pink scarf on the first day, and I wore it everyday.
We had dinner on the terrace of a restaurant right in front of the clock tower. Really romantic. My ankle still hurt like fuck, but I was going to appreciate the evening even if it killed me.
On tuesday we visited the Old Jewish Quarter in Rhodes. Now, a little bit of history: Italians came here during Fascism. They conquered the island, exploited it, made a couple of dance parties in honour of that stupid king we had back then, and then took all 2500 Hebrews that lived on Rhodes and sent them with their regards to Birkenau. Only 155 of them came back alive. Yes, it happened in the fourties, but still it's my cultural heritage, and I've never felt so ashamed to be Italian in my whole life. That's my people who did that.
So, we decide to visit the synagogue and the museum. There was this nice man who greeted us at the entrance and proceeded to explain us everything about the musem. While he was talking he was waving his hands about a lot, and since I was standing right in front of him I saw the tattoo on his forearm. Remember how I felt ashamed just by walking in the synagogue? That felt like a punch to the stomach. So I'm standing there frozen on the spot cursing every ancestor I ever had when he gets to the part that he's one of the survivors, and shows us both his tattoo. I mumble an apology, and he smiles at me very sweetly and says that he's happy to see two Italian girls coming all the way here (he had been really surprised at the entrance when we had said that we were from Italy, and no, we weren't jewish), and that meant that a new generation didn't want to fall into the same mistakes of the old one. At that point I was on the verge of tears, so we moved into the museum and he said to come back when we were finished to say goodbye.
We took some pictures, bought a few things at the gift shop, where everyone was so kind because we had no idea what anything was for, because apparently only jewish people visit that synagogue and that makes no sense, but the girl there was very sweet and explained everything to us. When we came back to the entrance of the synagogue the nice man was busy talking to other tourists, so we had to go away. We came back on friday, and he was surprised to see we had come back just to say goodbye, so he asked us if we wanted to take a picture together, which we did and then he put his hands on our heads and blessed us for our journey back home.
So, the point is, travelling and seeing new places is great, but it's the people you meet that make the journey unforgettable.
And now, a little game of Where's Waldo. Waldo in this case is a grey greek cat that I almost stepped on because seriously. It was the same colour of the road! Luckly Monica stopped me just before I landed on it.
The other harbour, the one with a bazillion of boats. We walked along the walls here everyday, the air was sweet and salty, and it was fun to look at the boats.
We were so lucky to get there on the week of the full moon, so we took lots of pictures like this one.
By now, it was time to infiltrate the Palace of the Grand Master. Observe how I innocently play my part as a curious tourist. The Templars will never know what hit them.
Templars everywhere! The nerve on them!
This reminded me so much of Ezio's room with the portraits that I laughed out loud in the middle of the room. Luckly Monica is used to me being a little crazy.
Having failed my assassination attempt (curse you, grand Master! Curse you!), I sat a while on a freaking cannon to take some rest, because hardcore assassin, you know.
Hope you enjoyed this first part, stay tuned tomorrow for the second part and more stupid commentary!
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 12:11 pm (UTC)Just one thing I wanted to offer--disregard if I'm putting my nose in too personal matters. I've always been of the opinion that one could be ashamed only of oneself. Where we are born: what nationality, colour, religion, etc. is something we have absolutely NO choice in. So we can't feel personal shame for the actions of the rest of the people who happened to be born under the same circumstances. We can try and take action of our own if we feel they're wrong, but that's it. I completely understand your indignation and sadness, and for feeling those, I think you should only feel proud of yourself. All I'm trying to say is that man was right when he said there was a new generation of people and they see things differently--it's the way YOU are and feel that makes all the difference and not the way some random people, who happened to be born in Italy, too, did.
Sorry, got carried away, but didn't want you to feel bad!
Can't wait for part two!!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 02:10 pm (UTC)I guess it's also because of what's happening in Italy right now. Besides all the Berlusconi crap (that's an entire chapter), there's a party at the government which is a racist party. There is nothing left about it, they hate black people, and they hate gays, and they hate people who live in the south, and they have a huge following, especially in the area where I live. So it was all kinds of shit piling up in my head, as I've been feeling ashamed of being italian for years lately.
When we went back to the hotel we played a game with Monica, "things that make Italy a great country", just to cheer us up, and we could only come up with stuff from before the 19th century. Depressing.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 02:38 pm (UTC)As for Italy, I went to a week-long trip to Rome-Florence-Venice a few years ago, after dreaming about visiting Italy for years, and I can tell you this: there don't have to be specific things to make Italy a great country, it just IS.:) It certainly felt like it and I adored it, and loved every hour I spent there.:)
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 02:41 pm (UTC)You're right, I should focus on the beauty and set the bad things in a corner. Plus, the food is the best. :D
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 03:00 pm (UTC)Amen to all that!:D
no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-19 03:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 11:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 11:53 am (UTC)La mise gialla la inaugurai in Giappone, e con la sciarpina rosa stava troppo bene. E poi così se mi perdevo nella folla Monica poteva trovarmi subito. XD
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 09:05 pm (UTC)Il cervo è il mio preferito... Con Waldo, of course!!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 09:08 pm (UTC)Va là che se non era per Monica quel gatto lo pestavo in pieno, che spavento. XD E non si spostava proprio!