Milos

Milos really is something special. A common refrain around here is some type of sigh noise followed by, “We’re really lucky.” We’ve been saying that a few dozen times a day lately, usually over incredibly fresh fish or some type of filo-based pastry. Often both. And speaking of filo pastries, here’s a fun fact: feta cheese wrapped in filo dough, fried, and drizzled with honey is as good as it sounds. Greek food in the US is wonderful, but they’ve definitely been holding out on us.

But back to Milos. Walkable from our hotel are incredible seafood restaurants, bakeries, and beaches. We spent our first day here rotating between all three.

Don’t judge us, we really tried to get Mimi to wear sunglasses.

Mimi shredding the three inch surf, brah.

Quinn reflecting on his post-uterine existence. Or pooping.

Just saving this photo here to pull back up during her teenage years.

“Mimi’s boat.”

Another dinner along the docks rounded out the day. The slow cooked lamb was easily among the top three dishes we’ve ever had.

Followed by more ice cream!

Mimi shoveled it in, worried that we’d remember this was the second time in a week.

And breakfast was just as good. You may be surprised that toddlers enjoy waffles drowning in fresh Greek yogurt with fruit and honey on top. Shocking.

My intention wasn’t to fill this post with food pics, but that’s pretty much all we did here for the first 36 hours.

But then things got a little more interesting. Milos is actually a pretty big island, encompassing 61 square miles, with 5,000 permanent residents. There are a few bigger villages sprinkled across the island, with small clusters of farm houses in between. We’re staying in Adamas, the port town, but wanted to also check out some other areas of the island.

The most practical way to visit the different villages is to rent a car. Well, as practical as renting a car in a foreign country can be.

The sign on the door loosely translates to “Caution: Driver has not used a manual transmission in several years.”

I’ll admit that I kept the car in first gear for at least the first hundred yards. I didn’t want to stall out until I was well beyond the view of the rental agency.

And then filling up the tank was my next adventure. Do I pump my own gas? Do I tip? Driving a car in another country is tricky, and keeping it fueled up is nearly as tough. But the service station employee was clearly used to tourists, and made it easy for me. Turns out they pump for you, tipping doesn’t seem to be a thing, and I managed to not drive off with the pump handle still in my car. Although, I did briefly roll forward a bit when I forgot that the car was manual. Mimi was in the backseat, but thankfully she’s too young to know what just happened. If she was a teenager, that would have been rough.

Gassed up and quickly remembering how to drive stick, we packed up our go cart and loaded up the family. The Griswalds go to Milos!

Thankfully our first day’s destination was a nearby beach with very little traffic along the way. There’s quite a steep learning curve driving in another country, with loosely enforced driving laws, in a tiny car, with manual transmission. The kids didn’t know how hairy it could have been, but Aimee did, and she was a saint. She deftly navigated both the route and my adrenaline.

But it’s hard to be too anxious when this is the view.

Of course, it’s also hard to keep your eyes on the road. But we made it!

Our destination was a quiet little beach recommended to us by Sasha at our hotel. The water was calm, and it was on the south side of the island, away from that day’s wind direction.

Mimi working on her zen garden.

But we only stayed for an hour or so. We didn’t want to overdo the sun exposure for our kids, and the beach was really more for a generation above or below us (more money or fewer kids). The sun cabanas in our price range were packed together pretty densely, and we didn’t want to ruin someone’s paradise with a flying sand missile or a jarringly loud infant fart. That wasn’t in their trip brochure.

I don’t know if it was the sun or my driving, but the kids were wiped out that afternoon.

Of course, that wasn’t a problem for Aimee and I. We’re mostly through the jet lag ourselves, but we’ll never say no to a two-hour family nap.

That evening, Aimee and I thought we’d venture out a bit after we put the kids to bed. I know I’ve evangelized cell phone baby monitor apps in the past, but I really can’t imagine traveling without them, and certainly not going out. We don’t attempt this often, but the conditions were perfect. Our hotel was safe, and this was right across the street.

However, the restaurant’s WiFi was spotty, so our plan didn’t work quite as well as we had hoped. Our date night ended up just being one of us sipping our beer while the other checked on the kids. Switch, repeat.

But even if the company was infrequent, the view was spectacular. Milos really is something special.

Underway

We woke up Monday morning with an ambitious goal: to take a ferry to the Milos, one of the Greek islands. We had an incredible time in Athens, but now that the kids were (hopefully) through the worst of the jet lag, it was time to start the vacation portion of our vacation.

Dimitris, the Athenian we rented the apartment from, made arrangements to have a taxi driver friend of his pick us up at 6 am. It was probably about 15-30 minutes earlier than it needed to be, but we move slow these days. Plus, I had been warned by several people that the ferry terminal can be quite chaotic, and it’s not uncommon to miss your ferry, or end up on the wrong island entirely.

Our driver, Nicos, was near Sue-level helpful. And there’s no higher compliment for a travel acquaintance. He was waiting in front of our house right on time, offered to pick us back up at the ferry terminal in a couple of weeks, and sweet talked his way past the police barricade at the ferry terminal. Nicos told the officers that we had a baby in the car, and couldn’t walk the hundred yards to the dock. We didn’t tell them what we did the day before.

Ferry trap #1 is that you need to convert your ticket to a boarding pass at the ferry company’s office, and you can’t do that on the boat. There are dozens of ferry companies, with very similar-sounding names written in characters I’m not used to reading. So having Nicos drop me off at the door of the correct one was extremely helpful.

He then drove us a bit further to the boat loading ramp, helped us unload our bags, and gave me his cell phone number in case any problems came up. I’ve never come across a more delightful taxi driver anywhere on the planet.

Without a guide like Nicos, the ferry terminal can be a pretty intimidating place. There are dozens of mega-ships heading out to sea all within a couple hours of each other. So the flurry of activity at the crack of dawn is impressive. And it’s not just passengers getting on the boat. Cars, armored vans, concrete trucks, freight containers, and food shipments move back and forth from each of the islands nearly every day.

These ferries are the lifeblood of modern Greek island life, and allow about 200 of the islands to be inhabited year round (there are about 4,000 islands total).

Our job was easy. We knew what ship we needed to get on, we knew when it left, and we saw where the line was. We just needed to wait.

Mimi hadn’t had her coffee yet.

Pulling out of the port, we saw what can only be described as a sea-traffic control tower. There are so many ships coming and going every day, that a fleet of tug boats, coast guard helicopters, and what must be a small army of radio operators are needed to keep it all running smoothly.

Like everything else in Athens, the port of Piraeus is unfathomably historic. As you’re sailing out, there’s a sign announcing the 2500th anniversary of a major sea battle that the town is famous for.

The city has been celebrating this event for 10 times the entire length of time our country has been in existence. Amazing.

Getting on the boat was relatively uneventful, due in no small part to Nicos’ advice. The passenger compartment was appointed like a giant airplane that you get to walk around freely.

And this being Europe, there was not one, but three fully stocked espresso bars on board.

I’m not complaining.

There were television screens scattered about the cabin displaying safety information, items available for purchase, and entertainment programming. Mimi walked up to one of the screens at her level and wouldn’t stop touching it. I tried redirection, I tried stern dad voice, nothing was working. Then I realized, oh yeah, you’ve never seen a non-touch screen. Kids these days.

And speaking of touch screens, we’ve been able to keep Mimi away from most screens for the past two years. But we’re not above a little digital babysitting to make it through a five hour boat ride. Nothing holds a toddler’s attention better than music videos on an 8 inch screen.

As we got closer to port, no screens were needed. There was plenty outside the boat to hold all of our attention.

I liked how things were shaping up.

There was a flurry of activity as we pulled into port. We were one of at least five stops for that ferry, so it only docks for a few minutes at each one. The passengers grab their luggage and the cars line up in the hangar as the door comes down well before we reach the dock.

I hope Mimi’s hand recovers from the death grip I applied.

Thankfully, getting off the boat was just as uneventful as getting on it. Our hotel was just a few minutes away, but under the midday Mediterranean sun, with a lopsided rolling suitcase (one wheel was sacrificed to Athen’s bumpy streets), and a toddler that just spent five hours on a boat, the walk felt quite a bit longer. The afternoon had echos of Cham Island. Being in paradise was wonderful, but man, it’s a bear to get here with kids. And like Cham Island, a quick scan of the visitors confirmed that we were among a vanishingly small number of parents with questionable decision making skills.

But we knew it would be a lot of work to get here. These travel days are tough, but always worth it.

The universe has a way of correcting itself, and that day, it took the form of Ms. Sasha, the hotel’s proprietor and Mimi’s new Greek grandmother.

Tired and hot, we walked up to the hotel, and I introduced myself in broken Greek. “Oh vee know who you ahh, dahhling. And who ees theees little precious?”

And just like that, Mimi was occupied for nearly an hour while Aimee and I melted into a couple of chairs to enjoy the fruit and honey Sasha put out for us. We were going to be just fine.

Sasha offered to babysit Mimi for us this week (and has repeated her offer several times since), so Aimee and I can go out for dinner or on a boat ride. It’s a testament to Sasha’s effusive hospitality that we’re even considering leaving our child with a stranger in a foreign country. But it’s tempting.

By lunch, we were already seriously considering moving to Milos.

And as if we needed one more reason to confirm that this island is paradise, it has “slides and swings! Slides and swings!”

In Mimi’s book, that’s worth flying halfway around the world. Win-win.

We walked down to the docks for dinner, and every ten feet, Mimi pointed and said, “I love that boat.” I’m really starting to think that she was Captain Ahab in another life.

I think she’s going to be alright out here, too.

The Acropolis

Our original plan for Saturday was to walk up to the Acropolis. However, our 10 am wake up time (rough night for the under 3’ crowd) meant that a major hike was unlikely before nap time. And missing nap time was not an option for any of us.

So we came up with a backup plan, and walked to what our guidebook said was one of the nicest museums in all of Europe. However, when this is the “stroller entrance”, we figured that this wasn’t a place to take your two year old.

I’m sure the museum is lovely, but our trip budget doesn’t have room for a small collection of priceless artifacts. Even watching her drink from a $3 glass makes me nervous.

Back up plan #3. When all else fails, there’s always slides and swings!

But it was hardly a sacrifice. By this point, Aimee and I were craving a coffee, and it turns out that there’s a great little cafe on the national garden grounds.

I’ll have a cappuccino, hold the espresso.

The baklava alone would be worth a return flight. Seriously.

We strolled around the park a bit more after we finished our coffees, and were pleasantly surprised that the park also has a little open-air zoo in it. Strong work, Athens.

After another great nap, we spent the rest of the afternoon following our noses and taste buds. This city really can’t miss on the food. It’s unbelievable.

And this is the face a toddler makes when she has her first* ice cream.

*Aimee and I have chosen to lie to ourselves about what our daughter eats with her grandparents.

As we got ready for bed last night, we repeated our positive affirmations, “We’re going to the Acropolis tomorrow. We’re going to the Acropolis tomorrow.” Our friends Nona and Grael warned us that they didn’t make it to the Acropolis with their one year old during their time in Athens, and we totally understand why. It’s a daunting hike, even without a toddler. And the road to the Acropolis is lined with cafes and pastry shops tempting you to cut the hike deliciously short.

This morning, our kids thoughtfully woke us up a bit before the alarm clock. They knew we’d need an extra push to get moving, or else the heat and baklava would convince us to scrap our plans a third time.

Mimi and I took our apartment’s charming elevator down to the street for an early morning coffee run while Aimee nursed Quinn.

I’ve picked up enough Greek to order a couple of cappuccinos (thanks, Rosetta Stone), but nowhere near enough to understand what the barista said back to me. I was flattered that he thought my Greek was passable, and I didn’t want to ruin the illusion by raising my eyebrows in the international sign of, “Your language is very difficult.” I just hoped that he didn’t say something like, “Don’t drink these, they’re poisonous.”

Our walk through Athens on a sleepy Sunday morning was quiet and peaceful. All of the shops were closed, and aside from the rumble of an occasional motorbike or the clinking of dishes at a cafe, the streets were quiet.

This was yet another historic building that stands flanked by the growing city around it.

Navigating this city is pretty easy, since the Acropolis in the southwest corner is visible from nearly any point in central Athens.

As you get closer to the Acropolis, you start walking past layer after layer of ancient history. I’m sure that people who come here without children would be able to tell you what these buildings are.

But knowing that I’d have exactly 2.7 seconds to read any informational placard on this trip, I did a bit of homework ahead of time. For anyone even remotely interested in Greece or the origins of Western drama/music/philosophy/comedy/etc, I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It was a fascinating read. Aimee read the intro and felt like she was in AP European history again, but the rest of the chapters weren’t as textbooky as they could have been. I’ll probably go into a bit more detail about the history in a separate post, but a quick timeline might be helpful for some context of the Acropolis.

1300 BC - Earliest evidence of an organized society in the region.
800 BC - Earliest and best examples of Ancient Greek storytelling (think the Odysey and the Iliad).
600-300 BC - Peak of Ancient Greece, anchored by a very poweful Athens society. Democracy is born, and Western civilization is advanced to an almost unfathomable degree.
~400 BC - Acropolis complex is built to honor Athena, patron goddess of Athens. Buildings serve as political, religious, and military hub of the city.
300s BC - Macedonians take over leadership and expansion of the Greek empire. Alexander the Great (and his father before him) expand the empire to a scale never before seen in the ancient world.
200s BC - Strained from rapid expansion, the empire collapses after the death of Alexander the Great. Decades of war between his lieutenants carve up the map, and leave several Greek-inspired mini-empires from Egypt to India.
200 BC to 300s AD - Divided intellectually, culturally, and militarily, the Greek world gets absorbed into the expanding Roman Empire.
300s AD to 1800 AD - Early Christians adopted and rewrote many Greek texts, changing their philosophy and conclusions dramatically. Even more texts were outright destroyed by wave after wave of invaders.
1800 AD to Present - Some original texts are rediscovered, and the depth and diversity of early Greek thought is becoming better understood.

It really is fascinating, even to a very casual observer like myself. But back to the hike. Being that this was our third attempt at the mountain, Aimee had plenty of time to check the travel-mom blogs. Universal consensus was that strollers weren’t worth the trouble on the ancient cobblestone roads. So Mimi went on my shoulders, and Quinn went in Aimee’s sling. We set out for the mountaintop, and got a stunning view along the way.

Once we got to the top, Mimi went more from adorable shoulder decoration to tour guide.

Even the apex of Western Civilization can only hold the attention of a two year old for so long. The kitties, bathrooms, and barricades that she didn’t even have to duck under were far more appealing.

No, Dada, I’m looking for the pottie.

But for the rest of us (well, actually two of the rest of us), it was nothing short of breathtaking.

Hey Mimi. Quick! Turn around! It’s one of the bedrocks of modern civilization!

Sure, Dada, but have you seen this dirt?!

But in all fairness, she probably just unearthed another paradigm shifting discovery about the ancient world. As you can see from the cranes and scaffolding behind us, the Acropolis complex is a living archeological site. And it’s not just building upkeep. Like everywhere else in Athens, there are layers upon layers of history in the ground here. And not just the Greeks, the Persians, Mycenaeans, Romans, and Ottomans have all left their mark here.

After we made our way through the Acropolis grounds, our tour guide led us back down the hill.

It was looking dicey for a bit, but we’re so glad we made the trek. Mimi did great, and the site really is an incredible piece of living history that we were honored and humbled to be able to walk through.

Now back to reality. Our early wake up meant that we were done with our day’s activity by 10. And long gone are the days where we can spend the afternoon with a beer and a book.

But you know what does keep a toddlers attention? The choo choo!

A €1.60 metro ticket is, far and away, the best value in children’s entertainment in all of Greece.

And of course, there’s always the park!

20 year old Myles would probably barf up his vegan cream cheese at the thought of spending three consecutive afternoons on slides and swings halfway around the world, but 34 year old Myles is loving it! It’s a peek into real Athens life, it gave us a chance to rest our feet after 7 miles of walking today, and of course, it’s right next to a coffee shop. That’s a win at any age.

We decided to branch out in a different direction for our walk to dinner. It inadvertently brought us through a rougher part of Athens. It wasn’t the kind of place where you feel like you’re in any immediate danger, but you’re definitely paying attention to which pocket your wallet is in. It was a good reminder that despite the history and charm, Athens, like the rest of Greece, is just barely recovering from multiple parallel economic crises. It’s very easy to visit this place without seeing much evidence of that.

But like most rough-seeming parts of most cities, they’re generally harmless. We had a delightful dinner, and definitely stuck with our more familiar paths home, much to the chagrin of the pigeons on the street just south of us.

Sorry guys, she’ll be out of here tomorrow.