By Sandra Elzie

If you’re just joining us on this month’s visits to Italy, Turkey… and now Greece,  I hope you’ll take a few minutes to click on the link to read the first two articles.  Wouldn’t want you to miss anything!

Like most of Europe, Athens, Greece is rich in history that dates back centuries.  In fact, Athens has been one of the most important and influential cities of that part of the world.   Athens became the capital of Greece in 1834, growing from approximately 6,000 residents at that time to the 4.5 million today.

In the 8^th century BC Athens was considered the artistic center of Greece…reaching it’s peak in the 5^th century BC during an era known as the Golden Age.  During this period, huge strides were made in literature, architecture, math, philosophy, medicine, and, in fact, all sciences of that time.  You’ll recognize many of the distinguished men from this area…Sophocles, Hippocrates, Socrates, Plato & Aristotle….just to name a few.

In the 2nd century BC, Greece was conquered by the Romans…and eventually the Byzantine Empire and centuries later by the Turks.  The Greek War of Independence  (1821 – 1829) prepared Greece for their rightful independence established in 1834.

Our tour included lunch where we had the opportunity to try some local fare.  There was Taramasalata…which is a dip made from fish roe…and which (shudder) I passed on;  Melitsanosalata which is made from smoked eggplant and is quite delicious; and Tzatziki which is a yogurt-type dip made with cucumbers and garlic that we spread on bread.  I enjoyed it, but hubby scrunched up his nose.  I think he preferred the fish eggs.   A lot of the small eating shops served pita bread stuffed with grilled lamb, tomatoes and onions, but I also passed on the lamb.  I’m not too brave when it comes to local foods, I guess.  However, I never passed up an opportunity to savor the baklava (a sweet pastry filled with walnuts & honey).

Our tour took us out into the country where we got out and walked among the ruins of several cities & numerous temples.  We visited the Acropolis which is one of the great wonders of the world and consists of four ancient buildings…the Parthenon, Temple of Athena Nike & the Erechtheion and the Propylaea.  The Acropolis was built during the 5^th century BC.

I found the Parthenon fascinating.  They are in the process of reconstructing the huge columns by painstakingly fitting together broken pieces of the columns and making pieces to fill in spots where the missing piece is too crumbled to use.  It’s like putting together a huge, huge puzzle.  If you look closely, you can see some scaffolding behind the mounted charts of the project AND if you look closer, you can see the columns…with what looks like white patches.  The white patches are the pieces they had to cut out of stone to fit the space on the column where the original column piece was too badly damaged.

The architecture of the Parthenon was obviously magnificent as depicted in one well-preserved structure circled by statues of their gods. 

The site…perched on top of the hill overlooking the valley, gives it a spectacular view of the surrounding area.

When the tour was over and we returned to the ship, it was to sail back to Italy where our trip would end and we’d fly home.  But that evening, during dinner, we were blessed with a beautiful view of a setting sun that captured the essence of our trip and bid us farewell…or adio, as they say in Greece.  

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Sandra loves to hear from her readers, so drop by her website and visit.  Read more about her and what’s coming in the near future at:

www.SandraElzie.com   

Sandra’s first print book, The Diplomatic Tutor,  is now available from Kindle e-books.

 She also writes as Sandra McGregor and you can view the selection at Amazon e-books.

By:  Sandra Elzie

I hope you were with us last weekend when we briefly visited Rome, Italy, but if not, you might want to take a couple of minutes and check out last week’s article.  This week I thought I’d start by telling you just a bit about our ship before we set sail for Naples, Italy.

Royal Caribbean’s Marnier Of The Sea is a self-contained city on the waves where you can eat 24/7, be entertained, gamble in the casino, be pampered at a spa, sweat in the gym or on a rock-climbing wall …..or relax by the pool with a cool umbrella drink & a good book.  (And that’s just the beginning.) 

If you’ve never been on a Royal Caribbean ship…or never cruised, I suggest you click on the link and view the short video of what they have to offer…and what you’re missing.

We ported in Naples (Capri), Italy to a sunny morning that promised us a great day of sightseeing.  Naples is the third largest city in Italy and we were anxious to get off and see the town.  We also visited Sorrento, Italy where we spent much of our time walking along the narrow streets and shopping. 

Then we boarded a tour bus for an unforgettable day touring the Amalfi Coast…and I must say, it was the highlight of the trip for me.  It didn’t take long to realize that the road along the coast was, at best, only a foot or two wider than two tour buses passing each other.  In fact, there were some curves in the road where the bus coming down the hill would wait for the one going up to pass before proceeding.  In short, two buses were unable to pass each other along the narrowed sections.  In other areas the buses would move their mirrors in so they could pass without incident.  To say the ride was harrowing is an understatement…in my opinion.  But the beauty of the coast was worth every breath-held moment.

We stopped at a quaint little restaurant that clutched onto the side of the hill overlooking the ocean hundreds of feet below.  Wine was automatically served on each table and the food was traditional Italian….rich with tomatoes & spices and utterly delicious.  We almost hated to leave and get back on the bus, but the scenery in the bus wasn’t bad either.  Below is a picture of the inside of our tour bus…but the tour guide stepped right into  the middle of my shot!   

Then back to the ship…..see it anchored out there between the two palm trees????

What did we do most on the ship?  Yep, you might have guessed…..eat.

For breakfast there was a choice of the dining room and ordering from a menu, or our favorite …going to the HUGE buffet where we served ourselves, but could pick a seat near a window and look out over the sea.  Lunch, if we were on the ship, was either the buffet with probably 20 – 30 choices of entree & at least that many sides, or an even more casual meal of pizza or a hamburger or hotdog at the grill by the pool.  Oh, and don’t forget the serve-yourself frozen yogurt machine where we got cones up until nine o’clock each night.   (Honest, I don’t think I missed a day without ice cream at least once.

But our favorite meal was dinner.  This was a time to visit with the people at our table who became friends over the two weeks. (We remain in touch with them). 

There was the wonderful couple we went on the trip with, a lovely couple from Canada and two ladies from Texas who were more fun than you will ever know. We’d each share what we’d done that day and sometimes even share our food.  Desserts were occasionally passed around so each one could take a spoonful and try something new & delicious.  My husband and the two other men love shrimp so on the first evening they requested Shrimp Cocktails.  And, although it wasn’t on the menu, our waiter brought them.  Then the second evening they did the same and after that our waiter just brought the Shrimp Cocktails without the guys having to ask.  The crew sought to serve us in any way…and in every way possible.

The next day that we went ashore was in Ephesus, Turkey.  The city was once the site of a great civilization and home to the Temple of Artemis: one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.  It was established by the Ionians in the 11^th century BC, but later conquered by Rome’s Alexander the Great.  At one time it was the leading seaport in Asia Minor & thrived through a succession of rulers.

Today a lot of the old temples and once-grand structures are in ruins, including the Grand Theater where the apostle Paul once preached.  Only a few columns remain from the Temple of Artemis.

Everywhere we went there was shopping, shopping and more shopping.  We were told that tourism is the biggest industry for most of the cities. 

We wandered through narrow streets with tiny shops crammed full of treasures just waiting to sell you anything you wanted…and if it was too big, bulky or breakable, they were willing to ship it home for you.

At the end of the tour, we were taken to a shop where we watched a master weaver hand-making Turkish rugs.       

It was fascinating to watch how fast her fingers moved.

I know this has been only a peek at these two stops…and I apologize….but there’s just too much to see, too much to tell and with more than 2,000 pictures in our albums, it was difficult to choose which ones to share.     Next week we’ll visit Athens, Greece, so I hope you’ll come back to join us.  See you then!

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Sandra loves to hear from her readers, so drop by her website and visit.  Read more about her and what’s coming in the near future at:

www.SandraElzie.com   

Sandra’s first print book, The Diplomatic Tutor,  is now available from Kindle e-books.

 She also writes as Sandra McGregor and you can view the selection at Amazon e-books.

Events in our lives shape these traditions.  I use to make a popcorn garland for my tree every year but now, with my beagle, my tree would be destroyed if I dressed my tree up in her favorite treat.

I always find traditions fascinating.  Staying up until midnight, popping the bubbly, and ringing in the New Year.  Sharing a kiss, sometimes with a stranger, the first kiss of a new year.  Some people stay up all night and greet the sunrise.

Did you know that the most commonly sung song by English-speakers on New Year’s Eve – and also the song that almost no one knows the actual lyrics to – is Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns in 1796?

Robert says that he refined the lyrics after hearing an old man in Ayrshire, Scotland singing it.  Auld Lang Syne literally means “old long since” and means “time gone by.”  The song asked if old friends and times will be forgotten and promises to remember people of the past with fondness.  ”For auld lang syne, we’ll tak a cup o’kindness yet.”

Traditions are everywhere and different all over the world.

In Britain, they celebrate with First Footing – this was someone special who would come to your house baring gifts.  People hit the streets at midnight, visiting houses.  Usually, you would be visited by a neighbor who would bring coal for the fire or shortbread.  It was considered especially lucky if the first visitor to your home on the New Year was a tall, dark, handsome man.

The Dutch actually burn Christmas trees in the street on New Year’s night.  They, its a great way to make sure you get rid of your tree for the coming year, right?

Over in Spain, to insure twelve prosperous months, they eat twelve grapes at midnight.  While in Greece, they bake Vassilopitta – or St. Basil cakes.  This is a cake with a gold coin baked inside.  Whoever gets the coin will be especially lucky that year.

New Year’s is the most important holiday in Japan as it is a symbol of renewal.  They hold Forget-the-Year parties all through December to bid farewell to the problems of the past year and prepare for a new beginning.  Grudges and misunderstandings are forgiven and major cleaning is done to the house.  It is said to be very bad luck to start the year off in a dirty house.

At midnight on New Year’s Eve, Buddhist temples strike their gongs 108 times to expel 108 types of human weakness.

On New Year’s day, no work is done.  A day of joy, children recieve small gifts with money inside.  Sending New Year’s cards is a very popular tradition in Japan.  In fact, if it is postmarked by a certain date, the post office guarantees delivery of all New Year’s cards by New Year’s Day.

Then you have the various American traditions.  Watching New York’s ball drop – we also have the Peach Drop here in Georgia.  The New Year’s Ball in Time Square actually started in 1907.  Back then, the ball was made of iron and wood.  Now its made of Waterford crystal.

I didn’t really watch the ball or Peach drop until I was much older.  Even now, its rarely on my television.  Probably because I didn’t grow up with it.

My tradition came because of my situation with my parents.  They divorced when I very young, not even two yet.  As I grew older, I would spend Christmas with my mother and New Year’s with my father.  This means that my dad and his girlfriend would be passed out drunk before ten and my little brother fell asleep watching some movie.

I’d stay up late, curled up on the couch with a soda and a book, reading until I heard the neighbors shooting off fireworks.  Looking up, I would see it was a few minutes passed midnight and everyone in the house was sleeping.

Getting up, I’d so out on the porch, freezing cold and clutching my paperback and I’d watch the fireworks the neighbors were shooting off.  This was in Alabama, too, so they were really good fireworks.

Its funny because fireworks and noise makers are in most New Year’s traditions.  It goes back to ancient times when people thought that fire and loud noises would keep evil away.

My father-in-law, in fact, rings a giant bell that hangs outside in his yard every year at midnight.

When I got older and started staying in Georgia to ring in the New Year, I did go to my share of New Year’s Eve parties.  But I find now that I am married with a home, I am content to spend New Year’s at home, curled up with a good book and drinking pink champagne as my husband plays video games.

This year’s reading choice:  Last Chance to Run by Dianna Love.

While that might seem boring or sad to some people, honestly, I love having that time to dive into a great story.  Do I feel like I missed out sometimes because everyone else was sleeping?  I used to but not so much anymore.  I had my own tradition, even if it wasn’t a common one and now its one I take comfort in.

New Year’s day we’d come home from Daddy’s and my mom would fix collards and black eyed peas and to this day, I go to my mom’s New Year’s day for just that meal.  After all, collards brings dollars and peas bring pennies for the coming year.  Its important to eat lots of them. hehe

What are your traditions?  Do you have any non-traditional traditions of your very own or are you our partying until the sun comes up?  Share with me and you could win your own, brand new copy of Last Chance to Run - the very book I ran in 2013 with just a few days ago.  A fabulous Romantic Thriller autographed by Dianna Love herself.  It’ll be personalized with the winner’s name and believe me, this is one fun and riveting read.

And I just want to take a moment to thank Dianna for her donation.  I’ve been enjoying this book and was thrilled when she agreed to give away a signed copy of it on our blog today.

Oh, and for anyone out there even a little curious about what they’re singing when the clock strikes midnight:

 Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp,
And surly I’ll be mine,
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

We  twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.

 For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.

 For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

And there’s a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

 For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

I have to admit I got teary-eyed watching Michael Phelps make history winning his 19th medal. I also got a lump in my throat every time The Star Spangled Banner played. As much pride as I have in being an American, I also felt pride in my Greek heritage.

Ever wonder why the Greek flag is first in the procession during the Olympic Opening Ceremonies? The Greek’s created the Olympics. The games began in Olympia, Greece. Scholars  debate the actual date, but it’s believed to have originated around 776BC. The games had religious celebrations held in honor of the Greek God, Zeus. A thirty-nine foot seated statue of the “father” of the god was erected around 432BC.

An Olympic Truce was called during the games. Wars were suspended and armies were forbidden from entering Olympia. Could you imagine if we took a page out of their book today?

Athletes represented their city-states (ex: Athens or Sparta) would compete in seven different events: running (known as foot races), long jump, discus throw, boxing, wrestling, Pankration (today’s mixed martial arts) and chariot racing. Only males who spoke Greek were allowed to compete, but there were noted exceptions. A Spartan princess won the four-horse race. The victory went to the owner, not the rider. Social status didn’t eliminate the chance for an athlete. Any male from a shepherd to a prince could compete.

Unmarried women were allowed to attend. Married women were banned. I think it the restriction was because husbands didn’t want their wives to see other nude men.

The Ancient Olympics were not only an athletic completion and religious festival, but also an artistic gathering. Pythagoras, Aristotle, Plato, Hippocrates (the father of medicine), among others, participated in the artistic competition.

To learn more please visit: http://www.olympic.org/ancient-olympic-games?tab=history

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Olympic_Games

Pictures courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Greek Flag author:  Nick Winslow

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Statue of Zeus author: Sanne Smit

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The harbor snakes around the Mediterranean, forming twists and bends around the rocky shore. It is unclear which one molded the other to fit its design. There is a quiet beauty about it; something secure in its settled appearance. The buildings seem slightly drowsy, yet ever watchful of the array of locals and tourists that leave their footprints along the winding, cobblestone streets. At night the area is lively and colorful: echoing with music, clinking glasses, and laughter.

For the majority of my time in Chania, I lived in a room above one of the shops on Kondilaki Street, which is a side street right off the harbor. My ‘home’ consisted of 2 twin beds, a nightstand, a small wardrobe, a mini-fridge, and a very tiny bathroom. My one decorative addition to the room was a hotplate. I had to wash my dishes in the bathroom sink and store them in a container under the bed. The bathroom was so small I could (and did) put my leg up on the toilet to shave while showering. And I loved every second of living there. It was merely a place to sleep and store my belongings…my life was lived out and about in Chania. I could walk down the stairs, turn right, and be face-to-face with the Mediterranean. My legs were my transportation and the streets of the harbor and its surrounding areas were my home.

There are numerous cafes and restaurants along the waterfront in the harbor, and these were often the dining places of choice for me and my friends because of the fabulous views. The very first place I dined at in Chania was Monastiri and it became one of my favorite tavernas to enjoy an alfresco meal. I spent many unhurried hours there, munching on mezes and sipping on wine until the sun began to set and the lights of the harbor started to dance along the surface of the sea. Like many places in Chania, meals always ended with a taste of Greek yogurt with fruit and honey and a shot of raki (also known as tsikoudia but I prefer to call it fire water) to help you digest. Monastiri is located near the old lighthouse and former mosque. On the way there you will inevitably pass fat dog (who last I checked is still very much alive). Fat dog is a fixture at the harbor and many people often mistake her for being pregnant. She isn’t. Life at the harbor has been good to fat dog…I know the feeling as life there was good to me as well.

There is an entire maze of buildings and streets behind the framework of the harbor known as Old Town. Only a seasoned resident could truly navigate these alleyways and side streets effortlessly. During my first few months in Chania, I often got lost in the crevices. I took wrong turns so many times I never thought I would get it right…but I persevered and eventually cracked the code. I no longer needed a map because my feet learned how to guide me where I needed to go. Like an obstacle one has vanquished, once I knew the way I often wondered how it ever seemed challenging in the first place.

Both the harbor and Old Town are about discovery. Getting lost in the crevices helped me find little jewels nestled there. Unique shops and wonderful little tavernas were everywhere if you knew the right place to take a wrong turn. In the harbor eventually all the wrong turns end up being right. It was one of these wrong turns that gave me the answer to my grandmother’s airport warning, “Be careful when walking under balconies.” Old Town contains residential areas as well and I often took a stroll through them while imagining the day I would own one of these beautiful, old homes as I lived out my life of leisure. Thankfully, during my daydreams I was also always slightly aware of my surroundings (as any female traveling alone should be). I was walking past one particular home with a beautiful balcony overflowing with blooming flower pots when an elderly woman appeared with a bucket of soapy water and tossed it over the railing. I moved quickly enough to avoid being drenched but still managed to catch some of the spray as it bounced off the cobblestone. The woman merely looked at me and, without saying a word, turned back around and went inside. I suppose I was at fault for not being more careful of where I was walking, or rather what I was walking under! With droplets of water running down my legs, I burst into uncontrollable laughter right there in the street (which I am sure made me look completely insane to any passerby but at that moment I couldn’t have cared less). Just as my grandmother had warned, balconies could be a tricky place to navigate around because you never knew when someone would be throwing their soapy laundry or dish water over one!

Chania is often described as a journey back in time because of the old world feel it clings onto amid modernization. Ironically, whenever I go back in time it is to revisit that place and relive those memories. I still have the harbor and Old Town mapped out in my mind. I can still hear the friendly greetings of the shop and café owners I came to know. I can trail my fingers across the crevices. My senses are acutely attuned to that time and place. I remember it all, but I wonder if the harbor would remember me…would it rise up to embrace me after all this time and welcome me home like a long lost friend? I have never truly felt whole since I left Chania: a part of me still lingers…shadows of me are still settled in the cracks. I take comfort in knowing my own prints are buried there, forming long ago treaded paths I hope to follow again someday.

In my last blog, I mentioned having my toes in the sand and my feet in the sea…and hinted at baring my breasts.   Part of the appeal of the Greek islands is the call of the Mediterranean: crystal clear waters and endless stretches of beach. I also imagine for some the intrigue lays in the topless sunbathing!

Crete has an abundance of beautiful beaches and each one has its own draw: some are more remote while others are big tourist destinations; some attract locals or campers while others allow not just topless, but nude sunbathing. I visited many of these beaches: I spent my 27th birthday at Falassarna drinking champagne out of the bottle; I enjoyed a weekend of camping and hiking at Sougia; I floated the day away in the shallow waters at Elafonissi. To name just a few of my many beach excursions and experiences…

However, the beach that most exemplifies my Cretan existence is Kalathas. By no means is Kalathas the most beautiful or largest beach on the island. In fact, to many it is probably barely distinguishable from the countless others that dot the coastline around the area of Chania. It is a well-known beach though and frequented by locals and tourists alike. I guess in a way I represented both…

Kalathas beach lies in an alcove formed by the coastline, and therefore is crescent shaped. It is situated northeast of downtown Chania. Like many of the beaches in Crete, the mountains jut up in the background so it makes the entire area feel dwarfed and sunken. You are nestled between peaks and waves. The colors cascade down the mountain: lush green settles into brown rock crumbling into tanned sand melting into sapphire sea. I never tired of the sight.

Kalathas has 3 trademarks: the rock island a short distance from the shore, the signature white and blue umbrellas, and Bobby.

The small rock island is within swimming distance from the shore. My friends and I would often swim out to the island and jump off the rocks. Of course, this always had to be done before we consumed too much ouzo…and this is where Bobby comes in. I am not sure what his real name is (as Bobby is obviously not a Greek name), but Bobby was as much fixture at Kalathas beach as the blue and white stripped umbrellas because he owned the little drink and snack hut. Although, I’m not sure I ever purchased or consumed a snack from there. Bobby loved to drink and loved for the regulars to drink with him. I distinctly remember one afternoon where I sat down at the bar with my big bottle of (still) water, fully intending not to drink that day. Bobby took my water bottle, threw it away, and placed a glass of ouzo on the rocks in front of me. My good intentions blew away over the Mediterranean (as they often seemed to do in Chania) and ouzo replaced water as my beverage of choice for the day. It was not a memorable experience, probably because I can’t remember most of it! But that was a typical day at Kalathas with Bobby!

Kalathas was also the first beach where I braved semi-nudity…otherwise known as (gasp) going topless. It was my very first trip to Kalathas beach. I had gone with some Swedish girls I was friends with as we all bartended down at the harbor. Here I was the only curvy brunette among the crew of lithe, blond bombshells, and the only one with my top on. I finally got the nerve to remove my top and I will never forget how liberating it felt to feel the warm sun and cool breeze on my bare skin. What had I been missing out on all these years?! That was only the first challenge, however. It is one thing to feel comfortable (and daring) in your skin while lying on a beach chair; it is another to walk boldly down to the water that way.

I wasn’t sure of the protocol. Did one have to put their top on before walking down to the water? If the sand was hot, were you allowed to run? What were the rules, if any, for going topless?! The moment was inevitable though and I sat in a puddle of my own sweat baking under the Cretan sun until I couldn’t possibly last another minute. I had gone beyond glistening to full out drenched. There is nothing sexy about sweaty, topless sunbathing (in case you were wondering). I finally came to a seated position and protectively crossed my arms over my chest before standing up. I held them there for a minute, took a deep breath, and then dropped them before boldly taking off across the sand. I was careful of my pace so as not to draw even more unnecessary attention to myself! Was it the longest journey of my life? Absolutely not. Did it feel like it? Absolutely! But I made it without incident and was rewarded for my bravery with a much needed float in the water (which also left me wondering if that was acceptable…). From that day on, I owned it! Going topless became like second nature to me and I grew accustomed to tanned breasts and outfit-ruining tan lines being a thing of the past.
In fact, I never gave going topless a second thought again until my mother arrived for a visit. Of course, I took her to Kalathas. Once we secured our spot on the beach, I settled in the chair and removed my top. My mom gasped and exclaimed, “What are you doing?! There are children on this beach!” I gave her an exasperated look and replied that those children have seen more than their fair share of breasts and that she should loosen up a little, we were in Crete after all. On that day, I was definitely the local and she was definitely the American tourist (because the European ones would be topless right there along with me). During her entire stay in Crete, she never did take her top off so we missed out on that mother-daughter bonding experience!

Kalathas will always be more than just a beach to me. I developed friendships under the blue and white striped umbrellas. I learned how much ouzo really is too much. I got a great tan. I overcame fear. I laughed…a lot. But most importantly, I fell even more deeply in love with Crete.

by Anne Fraser

Hi, I’m Anne Fraser and I write Medical Romances for Harlequin Mills and Boon.  As someone who travels a lot and would go anywhere (and often do) at the drop of a hat, I was delighted to be given the opportunity to write a series of travel blogs for Petit Fours and Hot Tamales.

Every time I go somewhere new, I still get that thrill of discovering a new place, or of returning to a favourite place and discovering a place to eat or walk I didn’t know. It also helps when it comes to setting my books in exotic and romantic locations.

If at all possible I like to see a place from the locals’ point of view so when my eldest daughter went to work in Turkey as an au pair, I leaped at the chance to go and visit her.

The first thing to say about Turkey is the people are warm and welcoming and very, very hospitable. When they heard we were coming to see our daughter, they insisted we come and stay with them. They also insisted we stay with Grandmama in Istanbul and although we would have been happy to stay in a hotel, my daughter warned us that her new family (and that’s exactly how they saw themselves) would be offended if we didn’t.

Castle of St. Peter Bodrum

The next day we took a trip on board a gulet (there are a huge number of options- all visiting different places ranging from day trips to week long sails up the coast) and sun bathed on deck on the large cushions provided. More than half of the day trippers were Turkish and it was easy to strike up a conversation. Next time we go we will definitely take one of the longer trips. Choose your gulet carefully however, as they range from the basic to the luxurious. You might wish to make sure yours has air conditioning below deck as the nights are hot and humid. (Many chose to sleep on deck for this reason. Personally the thought of spending the night nose to tail with strangers is something I might have considered once, but am no longer prepared to do)

From Bodrum we took a bus to Istanbul. Public transport in Turkey is cheap, efficient and very comfortable, especially the buses which have on board service and free wi fi. (Note there are hundreds of bus companies and the choice- and the bus stations- can be over whelming so it is worth doing your research in advance)

Once in Istanbul, we took the ferry across the Bosphorus to the European side of Istanbul. The ferry journey (about fifty pence if I remember) has to be one of the best ways I have ever arrived in a city so don’t even think about taking a taxi. You get fantastic views of the Bosphorus and Istanbul and, if you pick up a map in advance, you get a chance to see some of the less well known palaces and great houses of the Ottoman empire.

View of Istanbul from the Ferry

There is so much to do and see in Istanbul, you should give yourself at least a week to see the city. We visited the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern (lit with torches and so atmospheric) the Aya Sofya as well as the bazaars.

We also treated ourselves to a Hamams. Although not particularly cheap, it was an experience I’ll never forget and one I’d thoroughly recommend, although beware it is not for the modest!

You are invited to strip off, you get a little room to do this in and are given a cloth to cover your modesty. But just when you think it’s going to be okay, as soon as you enter the main bathing area, this is whipped away and you are led, naked, by your attendant towards your marble sink.(Don’t worry, women are separated from the men)

You  are left to sluice yourself repeatedly with water before your attendant takes you by the hand once again and lays you down on the heated circular marble bench. From then on you are soaped, scrubbed and pummelled to within an inch of your life, before being rinsed with water. I promise you, you will never ever feel as clean again.

As I mentioned we stayed with Grandmama about a half hour journey by local train, (hot friendly and cheap). She couldn’t speak any English and we couldn’t speak any Turkish, so we got by with sign language and smiles. (Do not, whatever you do,forget to take off your outdoor shoes when entering a Turkish home, or a Mosque for that matter.) If necessary your host will supply you with indoor shoes, which must not be worn outside. The indoor/outdoor shoes thing can get confusing when it comes to balconies etc. If in doubt ask.)

Grandmama seemed to delight in feeding us home cooked Turkish food at every opportunity. Whenever we cleared our plates, more food was brought through until we were stuffed. We have since learned that if you clear your plate it is a sign that you are not full and your hostess will feel obliged to keep bring more food until she is satisfied that you are full. And it is always the women- men in Turkey, do not cook.

Chai, or Turkish tea is always served. The Turks tend to add sugar, never milk, and it is a pleasant drink poured from a two pot arrangement; one for the tea, one for water. (I did try Turkish coffee once- not for me, I’m afraid)

We hired a car in Istanbul. Believe me when I say driving in Turkey is not for the faint- hearted. In all my travels I have never, and I mean never, seen anyone drive with such reckless abandon as the Turks. Road signs, traffic lights, give way signs seem to hold no meaning for local drivers. Most of the time it was a case of us just going for it. I can’t tell you how often I closed my eyes- I wasn’t driving- and prayed to survive the journey. I wasn’t surprised to learn that Turkey has one of the worst road death rates in the world.

We stayed with our Turkish family at their beach house near Tekirdag. The locals often own beach houses that they decamp to for the hot summers. The houses are built very closely to one another making it easy for neighbours to chat across verandahs or to wander in to each other’s homes. The Turks are a very sociable people and don’t think they same way we do in terms of personal space.

We were taken to Edirne on the Bulgarian/ Greece borders and once the capital of the Ottoman Empire for the day. This part is rarely visited by tourists but has the most stunning Mosque as well as many other key buildings still in excellent shape. Our family treated us to a local favourite, fried Calf’s liver at their favourite restaurant Niyozi Usta. Their advice to us re choosing a restaurant, if you see Turkish people queueing outside, join the line!

Back in Istanbul we took the overnight train from the breath taking Haydarpasa station (Just like something out of an Agatha Christie movie and worth a visit on its own) to Ankara. The sleeper was cheap, clean spacious and had a lovely little restaurant car selling reasonably priced local dishes. I have to admit being a sucker for rail travel and this trip did not disappoint. We had to take the bus from there to Cappadochia. If you are visiting Turkey and have more than a week this is a must see place with its underground cities and fairy chimneys. In fact there is so much to write about this lesser known part of Turkey, I feel it is worth a blog of its own!

            Turkey has something for everyone; glorious beaches, stunning palaces and mosques, landscape that you won’t see anywhere else in the world and history. I for one intend to return as soon as possible as I feel I just scratched the surface of this fascinating country.

For those who may be interested, my latest book The Playboy of Harley Street is partly set in Istanbul. I adored the city so much I just had to have it as the location where my hero and heroine finally realise that they are in love!

Hot tips

Don’t miss the Aya Sofya (also known as the Haghia Sofia)the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern or the Topkapi Palace (worth it to see the Harem alone- although it costs extra)

The Favorites Courtyard-The Sultans Harem

or the Grand Bazaar.

Learn a few words in Turkish, even if it’s just hello and thank you pronounced mer-ha-ba and te-shek-kewr e -de- reem respectively. The locals will love you for it

Experience a real Turkish Hamman (we visited the Cagalogu Hamani which is gorgeous)

Take a ferry up the Bosphorus

Try a fish sandwich

Take an overnight train from the Haydarpasa station on the Asian side.

We didn’t make it to Ephesus- the best preserved classical city in the eastern Mediterranean- as we plan to see it as a separate visit along with the pools at Pumukkale.

About the author:

Anne was born in Scotland but brought up in South Africa. After she left school she returned to the birthplace of her parents, the remote Western Islands of Scotland. She left there to train as a nurse before going on to university to study English literature. After the birth of her first child, she and her doctor husband traveled the world working in rural Africa, Australia and Northern Canada.

Anne worked in the health sector until she started writing full time so she has no shortage of medical scenes for her books. In addition, she blatantly picks her husband’s brain to ensure the medical detail is correct and up to date. And if he can’t help, he usually manages to find a colleague who can.

She still loves to travel and grabs any opportunity to see new places, incorporating the most romantic locations into her books. To date she has written fifteen Medical Romances for Harlequin Mills and Boon

To relax, she enjoys travelling, playing tennis, cycling and, of course, reading. 

You can find Anne Fraser at the following locations:

www.facebook.com/AnneFraserAuthor

http://www.amazon.com/Anne-Fraser/e/B0034PDV0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

The Playboy of Harley Street and the Doctor on the Red Carpet 2 in 1 book – released July 2011

Mistletoe, Midwife…Miracle Baby 2 in 1 book – released November 2011

Greece ….Set Sail for A Mediterranean Adventure

By: Beci Falkenberg

One by one eighteen hearty souls negotiated the swaying gangplank to board the M/S Panagiota, our motorized wooden sailboat, for a seven day Greek Island hopping bicycle tour.  We watched as the boat cast-off from the tenth largest coastline in the world…. destination: the picturesque whitewashed villages of the Cyclades Islands southeast of Athens and the mainland. With its 1400+ mostly uninhabited islands, Greece is scattered like marbles in the azure water of the Mediterranean, the Aegean, and Ionian Seas.

Shortly after departure, strong winds forced the captain to alter our destination from the wind prone Cyclades Islands to the calmer protected waters of the Saronic Gulf coast, closer to the Greek mainland. Fortunately, over the course of the week, the winds would eventually shift allowing us to experience the best of both famous Greek archipelagos.

We began our boat/bike hopscotch by touring four islands on the green and fertile Saronic Gulf. Each ride started at sea level, spiraling up narrow serpentine country roads. If the long steep ascents didn’t have our hearts pounding, the sheer magnitude of being engulfed by the endless expanse of brilliant blue waters, olive groves, tumbleweed desserts or towering pine forests, would…and the twisting roller coaster descents, pure Red Bull adrenaline rushes! Who would have guessed that Greece is 80 percent mountainous terrain?

Anticipating the gems that lie ahead on each island escapade kept us pedaling. On the volcanic island of Poros, strikingly built into the slopes of the hills, we found the remains of the Sanctuary of Poseidon and an enormous clock tower perched high above the city. The island of Aegina blended beauty, commerce, and antiquities. Donkey driven carriages carried tourists along its crescent shaped harbor brimming with yachts, fishing boats and stores wafting with the aromas of the island specialties: sweet sun-dried fruits and fresh pistachios found in every conceivable form (even pistachio oil soap).  The imposing Temple of Aphaia, with its massive rows of towering Doric limestone columns and sweeping panoramic vistas, provided the ideal setting for our Greek picnic lunch. White sugar-cubed blue domed churches and blue shuttered white stucco houses dotted the hillsides winding back down to the city harbor.

We rested our legs by catching a ferry to Hydra, which exuded a more exclusive upscale vibe with its classic red-tiled white stucco houses, outdoor harbor-front cafes, art galleries and posh gift shops. Formerly a popular artist enclave, the only permitted mode of transportation up its meandering cobblestone streets are by foot or donkey taxi.

In contrast, on Ermioni, a sleepy fishing village with pine tree lined sandy beaches, racks of fresh caught octopus sun-drying outside Greek tavernas (mom & pop cafes), and locals mingling on the streets into the night, we felt like extras on a Hollywood Greek movie set.

There’s nothing like the smell of fresh sea air and exercise to stimulate the appetite, although our appetites never needed encouragement. From our boat’s shoebox size galley kitchen, the cook and two shipmates magically transformed fresh, simple, ingredients into the most flavorful unpretentious meals.

Breakfast typically consisted of thick creamy Greek yogurt, honey, cereals, fresh fruit, eggs, and bacon. We never tired of lunching on authentic Greek Salad, rich brothy homemade soups, and the likes of plump stuffed tomatoes with fresh roasted vegetables. Our dinners were heartier entrees of Greek lasagna, fresh seafood pastas, and stuffed rolls of grilled calamari. The local fish deftly seasoned and grilled served with tzatzuki (creamy mix of yogurt, cucumber, lemon juice, onion, dill and garlic) and fried potatoes, or a deckside hibachi BBQ of grilled lamb skewers, chicken, beef, and exotic octopus, provided plenty of variety. Fresh ripened melon wedges, honey-kissed baklava or a simple scoop of ice cream garnished with a cookie added a light sweet finish to the meals.

Sailing on to the Cyclades Islands, we found the landscape dramatically more arid, dessert-like, and rocky. After a seemingly endless climb to Kythnos’ mountain-top hamlet of Chlora, famous for its winding alley streets decorated with painted flowers and geometric patterns, we refueled with Greek ice coffee, wine, and mezedes (small plates) at a hill-top patio café.

Steep twisting mountain roads continued to be the norm. On Seriphos, they lead past the Byzantine monastery of the Archangel Michael, complete with chapel, alcoves, manicured walkways, and bright flowering trees. In the stone fortress-like village, compact tidy houses covered with blooming vines, cozy cafes and artisan gift shops welcomed us at the top of the climb. On the island of Kea, noted for its terraced fields and beaches, we hiked the footpaths to the giant smiling stone Lion of Kea, honored according to Greek myth for banishing the island of water Nymphs.

Back on our boat, we’d dive into the pristine blue-green Mediterranean for a relaxing swim in a protected cove or idly nap shaded by the billowing sails.  An after dinner guitar sing-along would lead to a spontaneous slumber party under a canopy of stars.

As we reached the end of our carefree Greek Neverland adventure, I wrestled with the question, “Do I really have to grow-up?”

IF YOU GO:

Getting: There:

Delta Airlines and Air France fly non-stop from Atlanta to Athens. U.S. Air, Continental, and Lufthansa offer connecting service.

When To Go:

The prime Greece cruise season is from May through November.

Tour Operators:

The Trip Chicks of Passport to Adventure, Inc., an Atlanta travel agency specializing in small group active vacations.

770-454-7205

http://www.thetripchicks.com/

Island Hopping, a Germany based travel company specializing in boat/bike tours in Greece Croatia, and Turkey.

Phone: 49-7531-819-9390

http://www.islandhopping.com/Ships-Panagiota.html

Tourist Information:

Greek National Tourism Organisation (GNTO) http://www.gnto.gr/

Beci’s thoughts on writing are best conveyed in a quote by Anais Nin:

“We write to taste life twice…in the moment and in retrospect.”  

As an Atlanta chef and cooking instructor, her “in the moment” writings are usually limited to penning recipes and enticing class descriptions for program calendars. In addition to contributing food and travel articles for local publications, she hosted Tastebuds, a weekly food show on Radio Sandy Springs, for two years.  Seven years ago, she began tasting life “in retrospect” by writing about her annual bicycle touring trips abroad. She discovered travel writing provides the background stories to complete her vacation snapshots. The destinations and folks along the way are always colorful.  Last fall, she and her friend Nancy took a ten-day bike trip starting in Bratislava, Slovakia, to Budapest, Hungary, with an organized tour which included a cantankerous  group of old Naval Academy football jocks. Moved by this mishmash of personalities and their bonding misadventures, they wrote and performed an impromptu Hungarian RAP-sody, “A Biker’s Ode,” recounting amusing trip highlights at the farewell dinner. It was a smash hit with the group and confirmed the power of words to entertain and capture what photos alone would miss. 

Beci is compiling humorous and bittersweet anecdotes of her mother, Mary, which she hopes to incorporate into a book one day. Mary, a sheltered 20-year-old helping to run her family’s neighborhood market, married the proverbial Mr. Wrong, in her case, Mr. Wong, a dashing Chinese immigrant Air Force private. He sweeps her off her feet and whisks her from a troubled home life in small town Augusta, Georgia, for a see-saw life of joys and sorrows as they struggle with his gambling addiction. She crisscrosses the U.S. with him, operating mom and pop Chinese restaurants from Texas to Arizona, California to Indiana, raising six children and staying one step ahead of his debtors. When her husband dies suddenly in his late 40s and with her children half-grown, Mary, the family rock, seizes the chance to create a new life. She becomes as consistent at her Baptist Church revivals as she is a regular at the VFW dances. Her already seasoned life begins to gain heat and sizzle when she unleashes her yoke of responsibility AND her flirtatious nature, trading the restaurant’s kitchen apron for hot pants and Go-Go boots!

The Greek Boat Bike in 2007 published in the Sunday Paper.  Permission granted from the author to use on the Petit Fours and Hot Tamales blog 03/2011.  All Rights Reserved to the author.