Mom has a picture of me bailing him out

We arrived in Piraeus this morning, the port for Athens. Mom and I both spent some extra time trying to situate ourselves to not be pickpocket targets. Straps and belts and zippers and loops and things hidden from view. I'm relieved to say all efforts were successful.

We wisely booked an all-day excursion, meaning we shuffled along behind a nice Greek woman named Constantina carrying a cruise line sign. The sign matched the green stickers we sported on our shirts – Tour H-1. Twenty-five little tourist ducks in comfortable shoes and Rick Steves Money Belts©.

I was very excited as our bus wound its way into Athens. We saw several new stadiums and facilities that were built for the 2004 Olympics. We saw freeways and office buildings and modern stores and graffiti and McDonald's. And then, there in the middle of this big geologic bowl that Athens sprawls through, the Acropolis. Even in this densely populated, seemingly untreed city, the birthplace of democracy soars above it all, demanding notice.

Visiting the Acropolis was my expected highlight of the trip so I was very eager with anticipation as we exited the bus to start a slight trek uphill. But in a totally unexpected turn of events, I was utterly distracted.

A brief note of background. It's a story I can tell another time but the fact is, Rob and I travel with a small stuffed animal: Piglet from Winnie the Pooh. We take photos of him doing various things on our vacations. He's been with us for 18 years and he recently started his fourth photo album. So perhaps you can imagine my visions of the Perfect Piglet Photo-Op of him sitting in front of the Parthenon.

Not wanting to have to open my purse in a crowd, I thought I was very smart to have Piglet already in my hand as we entered the Acropolis. Walking along the marble steps, minding my own tourist business, I was suddenly stopped by a mean Greek woman who said, “You can't take the doll with you.”

Doll? What doll? I didn't have a doll. Oh, wait, she meant Piglet (he's much more than some stuffed doll, we'll have you know). Piglet?? Piglet can't go into the Acropolis??

I was speechless. And crest fallen. And so panicked that something might happen to Piglet while the mean Acropolis security people held him hostage, I almost considered not going in myself. But my trip to toddler-hood was thankfully brief so I very reluctantly left Piglet with the mean ladies and hoped that when I saw him again he wouldn't have cigarette ashes on his snout.

As to why Piglet was not allowed to enjoy the antiquities, all I can guess is that the Acropolis is considered a sacred place and the proud Greeks don't appreciate yahoo tourists posing their toys on hallowed ground. While I can see their point, if they truly knew Piglet they would understand how honorable, mature, and respectful he is of different cultures and people and religious views. He's very broad-minded, our Piglet.

Crushingly pig-free, Mom and I made our way - with at least 500 other tourists - up the slick marble pathway into the Acropolis. There were very few handrails on the narrow paths. People were all supposed to be heading in the same direction, namely up, but not everyone was following the rules. (I guess the security people were too busy interrogating Piglet.) Honestly, I got a little wigged out. I can get a touch claustrophobic in large crowds. And my half-Vicodin was just kicking in as I noticed Constantina was barely in view. This, added to my total distraction about Piglet, made me wonder if I was going to enjoy this highly anticipated highlight at all.

Yes! Yes I did! Once we got to the top, we found our fellow green-stickered ducks and learned some extraordinarily ancient history from Constantina. Then we were let loose to wander around on our own for about an hour. It was mind boggling. I have lots of Piglet-less photos of the Parthenon, the Erechtheum, and the Porch of the Caryatids. Mom and I were both particularly drawn to the women supporting the porch (see photo below).

I still can't really grasp the age of the things I have seen the past two days. (Insert average age of cruise passenger joke here.) Yesterday in Olympia, at the site where the Olympic games began, we walked around ruins of things built in the 5th century BC. BC. I still don't truly comprehend that. And yet, when I saw some artifacts in a museum from the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD, I didn't bother to take photos cuz, well, they weren't really THAT old, being after Christ and all.

After liberating Piglet, the visit to the Acropolis was followed by a truly remarkable meal at a restaurant featuring Ancient Greek Cuisine. This included not being allowed to use forks since forks were not used in ancient Greece. It was so much fun eating my feta-laden salad with my fingers, I might try to adopt that tradition at home. Sure would save room in the dishwasher.

I could write a whole 'nother three screens about just the meal itself. I'll do my best not to. But it was absolutely the best meal we've had on the trip so far and ranks as one of the Top Ten meals I've had in my life. It included salads with cabbage and pomegranate and raisins and feta. An appetizer of a cheese, for which there is no English equivalent, that was lightly breaded and fried and then covered in fresh raspberry sauce. Thin slices of lamb sausage with mustard sauce. Goat leg (we weren't fans), mashed chickpeas, leeks with a mustard sauce, pork ribs with a honey and vinegar sauce. And for dessert, fabulous Greek yogurt with chopped apples and pears, pomegranate, honey, and poppy seeds. And in the midst of it all, a very un-cheesy scarf-oriented dance performance by a gorgeous young Greek woman swirling in traditional Greek dresses (she had three wardrobe changes). The experience of today's lunch might be worth the airfare to do it again someday.

Mom has determined she likes Greek food better than Italian food, which is saying something. We are also now both huge fans of full-fat plain yogurt smothered in honey. Oh, and in the spirit of spirits, Mom practically shot down her “oenomel” aperitif – a homemade blend of white wine, honey, and rose water. My mission to bring Mom to the dark side continues successfully.

We are planning on doing dinner on the Lido Deck, probably some pizza or hot dogs at the Calypso Bar & Grill. I'm sure it will be tasty, but most definitely a disappointing follow-up to today's incredible lunch. Opa!

Photo score: Toni = 572; Mom = 858