Mediterranean Europe (Kid Stuff)

Not long before we left on this trip, Ryan asked me, "What's your favorite thing about the cruise?"  

I hesitated for a second before answering, "The coffee.  It's pretty nice to have a pot of hot coffee waiting for us at the table when we sit down for breakfast."  Talk about a lame answer.  We both chortled. 

In retrospect, I'm not sure if that's my favorite thing or not.  Not that the coffee is bad.  To the contrary.  But there are so many little things that make up the overall experience.  It's hard to pick a favorite. 

So it is with all that follows.  What words will take form?  What pictures to post?  What experiences to share?  What needs to be said? 

Even as these words begin to appear on the computer screen, your guess is as good as mine in regards as to what comes next.  Let's find out.

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We're home now and spent last night with my side of the family at my nephew Matt's, right on the heels of Christmas dinner at our place the previous day with Jamie's parents.  Looking back to last month, we were equally blessed to share Thanksgiving at my niece Amy's.  In between we spent 21 December days in Mediterranean Europe - five days in Rome on our own, then embarking the Viking Star for a sail down the western Italian coast, out to Malta, then east to Greece with the termination in Athens.  

Yes, life is full and I find another blessing in the writing of this.  It's good to let the mind wander the past and harken back to some really good days.

Laughter, Humor, and Abstract Absurdities

St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican

More Small Pieces of Italy

Malta

Greece

St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican (Kid Stuff)

The view from Ponte Sant'Angelo across the River Tiber.

This was our second trip to Rome.  Our first stay had been in 2009 and at that time we had tried to do all the "must see's" - the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, etc.  This time not so much.  In fact, as we were planning this stay, we made a conscious effort to just walk, enjoy some food along the way, and focus on the lesser knowns.  With one exception.  

Jamie and I have been privileged to visit a few of the great churches of the world and in our recent history that has included climbing closer to where angels reside.  To date there had been three such conquests.  Duomo di Milano, Milan, Italy.  St. Pauls Cathedral, London, England.  Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre, Paris, France.  The steps of St. Peters had been neglected on that first visit.  An oversight that needed correcting.

Words really don't do justice to any of the churches we've entered.  Some are calming, peaceful.  Others are gorgeous.  Many are amazing.  A few are simply holy.  The word for St. Peters has to be enormous.  It's extraordinary BIG.  In fact, if words don't do the place justice, pictures definitely don't.  There is no way to get the entirety of the structure in one frame. 

At the bottom of the frame is St. Peter's Baldachin.
A ten story canopy of bronze standing over the high altar
and the tomb of St. Peter buried deep beneath.

Our goal, the inner ring above and then the outer ring overhead.

And so it was with slight trepidation that we began our ascent.

The lower spiral staircase was maybe 12 feet wide. 
With each stair, the walls synched-in imperceptibly and then ejected us onto a rooftop
with panoramic views of the city.

Next stop, back inside for more stairs and the lower ring known as the Inner Gallery of the Drum.

Looking down from the Inner Gallery.
The lettering across the way is 6 feet high.
The letters along with all other depictions on the ceiling 
are done in mosaic, not paint.

We're doin' it now!  Onward to the external gallery - the Lantern Gallery.

St. Peter's is actually a double-shell dome.  Designed by Michelangelo, the dome is composed of two distinct layers with a hollow space between them.  Our route coiled through this void.

Looking up.

A real life carnival tilt house.  The sensory conflict
gave a whole new meaning to the term "the walls started closing in".

Then, without warning, out we popped.  The 360° views were stunning but this was definitely one of those experiences where the path held more magic than the peak.

Vaticano di Piazza San Pietro

Then, the descent to terra firma for some other sights. 

Pietà - (Our Lady of) Pity.
Sculpted by Michelangelo at the age of 24.

St. Peter's facade with Christ the Redeemer in the center,
flanked by St. John the Baptist (immediately left),
then 9 of the 12 Apostles (two cropped out on the edges, St. Peter's statue below in the courtyard). 

Vatican Museum, Gallery of Maps

A small section of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.
The entirety depicts the history of the world before the coming of Christ. 
Painted by Michelangelo over the span of four years.

While walking back to our hotel, we stopped at one of the 3,000 Roman eating establishments that offer outdoor seating after making sure there was no English printed on the posted menu.  Fat, dumb, and happy, that brutal bed at the inn beckoned. 

The view from Piazza Pia
looking down Via della Conciliazione
lined with historical edifices.

 

More Small Pieces of Italy (Kid Stuff)

Rome, December 2 - 6, 2025

Rome is beautiful.  Filled with the works of the masters, some of mankind's greatest triumphs are on full display.  But our wanderings revealed contradictions as well.  Two such history lessons left a mental impact to the degree that they demanded further research upon our return home and indeed, insist upon a brief rendering now.  Said directly, humankind is more than capable of inhumanity and we all need to be watchful. 

Left:  Narrow lane in the Jewish Ghetto.

Right:  "Stumbling Stones" embedded in the cobblestone
commemorating four residents who were deported to Auschwitz
during a Nazi raid on October 16, 1943.
Four of over 1,000. 

Left: Model crosscut of the Mamertine Prison (now a museum)
located in the northern corner of the Roman Forum.
The dungeon is well underground at the bottom of the model.

Right:  The dungeon, now accessible by modern staircases and a viewing platform.
In its time access by a single manhole in the ceiling, no drains in the floor.
Dark and dank have whole new meanings.

Christian tradition holds that the Apostle Paul was held here before his execution.   
However, there is neither direct archaeological nor biblical evidence in support.   

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Unknown location.
I liked the capture....I don't know why.

Did I already say we came to enjoy some food?

Altare della Patria (Altar of the Fatherland)
as seen on the horizon from Terrazza Belvedere Aventino.

Civitavecchia, December 7 - 8, 2025

Civitavecchia is a 1.5 hour drive to the coast and humbly serves as the port of Rome.

We decided that our feet needed a rest, so we stayed onboard and simply enjoyed the ambience of the Star.  

Daybreak and a panorama off the stern
of the harbor, breakwater, and two other Geriatric Buffet Barges put in. 

Yes!  The gelato station is alive and well.
Too many of these bad-boy calories found their way back to the Salish Sea. 

Naples, December 9, 2025

Naples is the source to more Italian history than my bandwidth can absorb.  What did get through was that Naples was heavily damaged by Allied air raids in WW II between the years 1941 and 1943.  These two architectural monuments were restored in the 1950's.

Galleria Umberto I - Built between 1887 and 1890,
this 19th century shopping arcade remains more than active.

Royal Palace of Naples.
With the Italian monarchy being abolished in 1946, no one "lives" here now.
Instead, it serves as a museum, library, opera house, and home to other public events.

Messina (Sicily), December 10, 2025

Entering the harbor at dawn.

VOS ET IPSAM CIVITATEN BENDICIMUS
"We bless you and the city itself"

Morning rays bathing Tempio di Cristo Re (1937, hilltop Catholic church)
as seen from deck 8 while docking.

Two hams with the Strait of Messina and then the Italian mainland
less than 2 miles distant.

I figured you were disappointed that you hadn't seen us
in at least a second or two. 

Greece (Kid Stuff)

Home to the ancient poet Homer, the Olympics, magnificent architecture of old, bazillions of olive trees, and almost as many feral cats.  Oh!  I almost forgot - my personal favorite - the music of Yanni.  Each and every touched us but what I bring home is a renewed fascination with time and place.

The Iliad and the Odyssey were written in the 8th century BC.  The first recorded Olympic champion is a man named Koroibos in 776 BC.  Nestor's tomb is dated to 1500-1450 BC and associated artifacts date as far back as 3000-2600 BC.  Some of those olive trees have lived for 2000 to 4000 years all the while playing a critical role in the Greek culture.  As for those cats?  Well, even with their nine lives they don't live for thousands of years but they have thrived in Greece since at least 1200 BC to the degree that they are now treated as communal property and honored as part of the national identity.

Now, here I am, walking among it all on a brisk December day in 2025 AD.  Simply humbling.  Questions abound.  Why them, there, then?  Why me, here and now?  Profound questions that speak to purpose and design which in turn demand profound answers.  Any answers....then again, no.  Regardless, the words of another ancient, Solomon, touch my soul in this hour:

To everything there is a season,

A time for every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born,

And a time to die;

A time to plant,

And a time to pluck what is planted;

A time to kill,

And a time to heal;

A time to break down,

And a time to build up;

A time to weep,

And a time to laugh;

A time to mourn,

And a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones,

And a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace,

And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to gain,

And a time to lose;

A time to keep,

And a time to throw away;

A time to tear,

And a time to sew;

A time to keep silence,

And a time to speak;

A time to love,

And a time to hate;

A time of war,

And a time of peace.

                                   Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 

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Note:  We visited seven ports in Greece.  A bus ride of varying duration and linearity was required to get from each harbor to the venues shown below.  One destination came dangerously close to breaking Doug's #1 Travel Rule - NEVER get on a bus if travel time exceeds sightseeing time.

Corfu, December 14, 2025

Old town Corfu.

A feel of the past, but not all that distant.

Katakolon, December 15, 2025

Temple of Zeus.
Archeological site of Olympia.

Vestiges of those first Olympic Games. 

Left:  Krypte at Olympia - Grand entrance for the athletes into the 
ancient Olympia Stadium.

Top right:  The stadium track, 192.27 meters long. 
The first game consisted of a single run the length of the track.

Bottom right:  The balbis or starting line.
Athletes placed their toes in the grooves to start races. 

Interesting fact:  The modern day Olympic flame is not "eternal".
A new flame is ignited for each Olympic Game
by focusing the sun's rays on a torch using a parabolic mirror.
The lighting ceremony is conducted here at the Temple of Hera (not pictured). 

Kalamata, December 16, 2025

High tech protective roof and elevated walkways above the
Palace of Nestor at Pylos, dated to the Mycenaean Bronze Age (1300 BC).

In the Iliad and Odyssey, Homer describes King Nestor as a wise and elderly
adviser to the Greeks during the Trojan War.

Left:  Entrance to Nestor's tomb.

Right: A peek inside the "beehive' shaped structure.

Heraklion, December 17, 2025

Heraklion Archeological Museum.
This stuff is really old.  Older than dirt.  Uhhh....not Jamie of course.

Greek Orthodox church
Cathedral Holy Temple of Saint Titus.

Rhodes, December 18, 2025

Dawn as the Star approaches Rhodes (top), Island of Rhodes (lower right).
But on this morning, the horizon and North Africa beyond (lower left) were calling my name.  Maybe someday.

Rhodos Cemetery as seen from our tour bus window.

Acropolis of Lindos, the Sanctuary Summit.

Perched upon a 116-meter-high cliff at the absolute edge,
the spiritual heart for much of antiquity for the cult of Athena Lindia.

This view is looking east across the Aegean Sea with Turkey beyond. 

Left:  Looking north across Lindos Bay from the Grand Ascent level.

Top right:  Two residents on guard as seen at the Lower Entrance.

Bottom right:  The Monumental Staircase, 34 step staircase to the summit. 

Left:  Today's Lindos as seen from the First Plateau.

Right:  Quiet byways and welcoming entrances.

Santorini, December 19, 2025

The village of Oia, Island of Santorini.
Pictures, at least our pictures, don't do the place justice.

The buildings with blue domes are Greek Orthodox churches.
The blue domes represent the "heavens".
The bell towers, known as kabanaria, represent the "voice".

The village of Santorini, Island of Santorini.

Right:  Holy Cathedral of Saint John the Baptist (Catholic).
An earthquake in 1956 leveled much of Santorini and much of what we see today has been restored/rebuilt.
So it is with Saint John's - circa 1975.

Left:  The Viking Star at anchor in the central lagoon of a volcanic caldera.
The eruption is believed to have occurred around 1600 BC.

Piraeus (Athens), December 20, 2025

The Acropolis of Athens.
The Erechtheion featuring the Porch of the Caryatids
with the urban sprawl of Athens in the distance. 

The Panthenon.

Left:  The southeast corner.

Right:  Scaffolding, construction cranes, and wires - the bane of this tourist photographer
although heartening in that future generations will enjoy the past as I have in the present.

The Panthenon as seen from the east.

Thats all folks.

My Patton Moment (Kid Stuff)

 

For context, please see the post Laughter, Humor, and Abstract Absurdities in the Kid Stuff/Travel section of this blog. 

Laughter, Humor, and Abstract Absurdities (Kid Stuff)

Genetics have never been one of my strong suits.  For the life of me I could never figure out how I could have blue eyes, or anyone else for that matter, if blue eyes were always recessive to dominant brown eyes.  It would seem that there is a pathway to diminishing returns somewhere in that logic and in various classroom settings the whole concept generated a definite degree of angst.  Oh wait!  In my day, lessons were based on the Simple Mendelian Model (one gene = one trait).   Now scientist have discovered that eye color is a polygenic trait meaning it is influenced by many different genes.  Not that this current model makes any better sense but my dark side does wonder if Mr. Humbart, old school as he was, ever updated his curriculum for that once-upon-a-time biology class. 

Regardless, a real world perspective has proven that genetics are real and inherited traits reveal themselves in mysterious ways.  

Take laughter for instance.  

Often we laugh to ourselves and at ourselves but to really laugh until the tears flow one needs a partner. I’ve been blessed with three such men in my life.  Two with blood ties.  In my youth, my mother’s brother Howard.  In this age of failing….you name it, my sister’s son Matthew.  

There is some debate as to whether humor finds its wellspring in nature or nurture.  Without doubt, my personal life experiences force me to side with nature.  Admittedly, the variables of my all too non-scientific research are strictly limited.  Nonetheless, the study focusing on my familia linage defines the mother (also in the social role of elder daughter, older sister) as the carrier of the condition and wa-la, the sons (also in the social role of younger brother, nephew, then uncle) are the recipient of a sense of humor that can only be defined as unique.  A shared sense attuned to abstract absurdities which manifests themselves in uncontrollable fits of hilarity.

Take this example from Thanksgiving Dinner, 2025.  Let’s title this work of art “The Extendable Fork”.  Your cast of characters (read both role and unusual quality) from right to left and in order of appearance:  Carol, my sister.  Yours truly. Jamie, my wife.  Matt, Carol’s son, my nephew.  With special thanks to the cinema photographer, Adelle, Matt’s wife. 

While such episodes are far from everyday, similar shared meetings of the mind are not uncommon either. 

Of course, not all humor results in guffaws. More often a quiet smile nestles on the mind and then migrates to the face.  In this regard, these three pictures beg representation.  For Uncle Howard: 

For those of you on whom that abstract absurdity is lost, paragraph five of Uncle Howard will provide some context. 

Some abstract absurdities pop to life almost immediately while others play out in the real time world of sight and sound with the mind orchestrating in context, sequencing, and impression along with projection and imagination. 

As it happened, Jamie and I were taking in the sights of Rome within our habit of self-guided walking and our first day found us wandering from our hotel in an easterly direction.  We stopped at the Spanish Steps in front of Trinità dei Monti.  Overcome by the need to document our presence in the essence of that place, we stopped for a selfie before continuing on.

Top:  The Roman Forum as seen from Via Monte Tarpeo

Bottom left:  Bernini's 'Ecstasy of Saint Teresa', 
Church of Santa Maria della Victoria

Bottom right:  Ancient Roman Aqueduct dated 9 B.C.
Still a source of water for the Trevi Fountain today. 

Two days later we crossed by the Spanish steps again, this time headed on a southerly route.  We had started this day at Piazza del Popolo and been immersed within the beauty of the Basilica Parrocchiale di Santa Maria del Popolo.

Shortly on, an obelisk was just barely coming into view.

Column of the Immaculate Conception, Piazza Mignanelli

Then, before we could get a clear view we were stopped in our tracks by a horrendous roar emanating from our back and right. Startled, we turned to see the silhouettes of six fighter jets as they flashed between the valleys of the roof tops.  It was the Italian national aerobatic team Frecce Tricolori (Tricolour Arrows) with their signature red, green, and white smoke trails streaming. I started to raise my camera phone to capture the image but they were long gone.  All that was left were receding echoes, an excited crowd, a bit of chaos, and sometime later, the heavy scent of jet fuel.  

The scene brought to mind the epic World War II movie Patton (1970).  The German Luftwaffe are strafing a Tunisian village creating chaos and carnage early in war in North Africa.  In a defining moment, Patton exclaims “Enough!” and jumps from the balcony of his command headquarters to a truck below, and then to ground.  

Squaring off, Patton taunts “Come on you bastards, take a shot at me right in the nose!”

Two fast approaching Heinkel He 111 medium bombers, twin machine guns blazing, roar towards him as Patton defiantly raises his pearl handled revolver to answer. 

George C. Scott as General George Smith Patton Jr.

But this was no time for random reminiscence.

“Hang on Jamie.  They’ll come back around for another pass and come right at us over that obelisk down the street there.  And I am going to get an award winning shot.”

What are the odds?  But my knower knew. Jamie’s eyes scolded with skepticism but she humored my whim any ways. So we waited a while as others resumed their sightseeing.  

“These people are going to miss the picture of a lifetime”, I said with something greater than a hint of disdain. 

Seconds passed and then a minute. Hope began to fade.  Then,

“Hear that!?!?”

I raised my pearl handled I-phone and muttered right out loud,

“Get ready.  Steady.  Just like Patton.”

Wait for it. 

My Patton Moment

Footnote:  Later that day we learned that the flyover was in celebration of the Olympic flame entering Rome on its way to the XXV Winter Olympic Games being held at various sites in Northeastern Italy.