Our driver edged away from the kerb, ducked neatly through a sharpish chicane, flashed through the gears and planted his foot to the floor, hitting around 30 knots as we sped from Ancona on Italy’s East coast bound for Patras, Greece. The journey will take around 26 hours courtesy of the mainly Greek crew of this ferry of perhaps 30,000 tonnes, laden with travellers, cars, caravans and campers, several coaches and a great many lorries making their regular Adriatic crossing. I think there are about 1500 passengers on board

I was interested in the loading process involving the trucks. There was a very long queue of semi-trailers and they would sweep up to the back of the ferry to reverse up the platform with the Greek loading crew barking instructions and encouragement to go faster. Like semi drivers everywhere, they handle these rigs with incredible dexterity. As a young fella at uni during the 70s I had some driving lessons on a semi trailer, much smaller than the giant rigs around today. Negotiating Sydney streets was a nightmare, and luckily I found some alternative employment to see me through uni that did not require truck driving.

The Adriatic is dead calm (today, anyway) and the ship is skimming along nicely without any pitch or roll. So, a good experience for Jenny, for whom the very thought of stepping on to any marine vessel brings her to a quivering mess. We may get a proper cruise one day. She is well dosed up on Kwells.

To meet the boarding time we had an early start: up at 0500 and departing Venice by 0545 so we were a bit bleary eyed this morning, dozing along the way.

We have touched a number of interesting places in recent days. We really need to spend quality time in these historic towns to appreciate the richness of their pasts and their churches and other buildings. On the negative side, it is impossible to see these places as they should be. They are infested with people selling fake brand-name handbags, sunglasses, toys, shawls. And you can barely move for the sheer weight of the crowds. And this is far from the busy season. We realise now that we should have done our Grand Tour 40 years ago when it seemed to be possible to buy a kombi, tour on a shoestring, and not be harassed by waves of tourists.

We enjoyed Venice, although the crowds were enormous, not helped by a large graduation ceremony in St Mark’s Square. Jen and I set off to see as much as we could on foot (there not being much in the way of alternatives). We spent quite a deal of time in one of the quieter areas, discovering some beautiful piazzas where we could sit and enjoy a well-made coffee and absorb the beauty of the old buildings and churches. By the time we needed to return, the Piazza San Marco was wall to wall people.

Back at the hotel, we had an early night following a rather forgettable hotel dinner. Canned peas – purlease…

We are saddened that with the queues and crowds we missed the opportunity to see properly the magnificent structures that comprise this place. I guess this is what we signed up for, though. Maybe we need to come back when it will be really quiet – like mid winter!

On the way down the coast we stopped at Ravenna, another ancient town, full of history, and at the early hours we were here, devoid of tourists and the accompanying traders and tricksters.
The Italian countryside is beautiful. The fields are rich with crops, and one might assume that the rural economy is doing well. I don’t know, but it certainly looks prosperous. Lots of unemployment in the cities we understand. The roads are well made and the autostradas great for touring. The odd Ferrari sped past us – each one Italian Racing Red.
I am writing this on board the ferry but won’t be able to post until our hotel in Olympia. The ship wifi is only used by the very rich or very foolish.

We are now in Greece. The waters of the Adriatic stayed calm and clear for the remainder of our journey. The deep blue of the water was of a colour I imagined could only have been photoshopped: but it is real.

We landed in Patras and headed for the village of Olympia, a small community of around a thousand souls. They seem friendly on the outside, but in our experience it is the most dangerous place we have visited. Behind the show of disarming friendship lurks a determined salesperson, and we fell victim in the first four shops we walked by. But we have to say there is a very positive feeling in this village. As our coach entered the main street the shopkeepers emerged from behind their counters with innocent smiles disguising their delight at some more visitors with wallets fat with Euros. The encounters are all good natured, and considering the plight of the Greek economy some small purchases seemed worthwhile.

The short journey from Patras to Olympia appears to illustrate what is happening in Greece. The roads are rather ordinary and the vehicles a little older and blowing smoke. The only flash cars were likely to be ones from the ferry, a nice collection of Mercs, Jags and BMWs, not to mention the beautiful Bentley, complete with dogs. The well ordered and symmetrical fields of Italy are replaced with less tidy arrangements, but still a nice feel to the way things are – a bit like Australia in a way. There are many empty shops and buildings half finished, perhaps started in a more optimistic time.

We have had dinner and glad for the change in the food. No more pasta and pizza: here there are real vegetables and salads, meat and fruit. Our digestive systems are starting to recover!

Our tour party has been together for a week now, and we are establishing stronger relationships with particular people. We seem to have made a pretty strong attachment with Iraj and Nadia, originally from Iran but living in Vancouver mainly but sometimes in the States. They have a most interesting story. Both left Iran before the revolution for educational opportunities in Europe. The are of the Baha’i faith, and of course not welcome in the land of their birth and face persecution or worse. Iraj is now retired, previously being a professor of architecture. In his retirement, he is part of a group of educators who teach Iranian students university level courses in a sort of open university. Students in their final year can apply to enrol in US universities and complete their final studies for graduation. It is quite dangerous for the Iranian students, particularly if Baha’i.

Because many of the others in our group tend to be a bit raucous, we have had many discussions and conversations with Nadia and Iraj as we share many interests and perspectives. If we ever get to Canada we will certainly follow up this relationship.
Tomorrow we are off to the site if the original Olympics. We already have local reminders of the significance of the place. One of the shopkeepers proudly displayed some photos of cousin George who has been among the group of athletes who start the torch relay each Olympic year.

On that athletic note, herete (goodbye).

PS, if you see typos, put that down to the iPad, and it’s auto spelling. It particularly hates the word “of”, and always automatically changes to “if”. Also gives me it’s for its. Grrrr! So sorry if my standards appear to be slopping.