A post about Naxos which turns into a rant about hostel bookshelves

After heading out from Antiparos, we took the ferry to Naxos. Naxos is known for a number of different things, but I’m sure one of the only things that will stick in my mind about Naxos for years to come is the story of Ariadne. Oh you don’t remember Ariadne? I am being to suspect that I am the only person whose entire grade school education was made up of Greek myths. Theseus ventured to Knossos to slay the Minotaur, the half bull/half man monster that lived in the labyrinth there (and was the child of the Queen- yuck). Ariadne, the king’s daughter, gave him a ball of twine, which he dropped on the floor as he went, and which he used to find his way out after slaying the Minotaur. Ariadne was probably thinking to herself, “Awesome, now I don’t have the monster in my basement that keeps eating all of those kids, AND I get a hot man out of the deal.” Theseus, the bastard, took her away from Knossos, but abandoned her on Naxos. Worry not for poor Ariadne though, she ended up marrying Dionysus, the god of wine and merriment, so I suspect that she didn’t complain that much. If this tale intrigues you, wait until later entries where we visit Knossos and Athens and the story continues.

Anyways, Naxos turned out to be a different adventure altogether. We set out in search of our hotel when we got there. In contrast to earlier lodgings, we had a map to get there, and it actually led us in the right direction. We, however, are either incredibly confused about metric measurements, or these hotel proprietors have no sense of distance, because it took us at least 15 minutes to reach our hotel on foot when their website promised that it was located “300 meters away.” This turned into a running joke on our trip as everything was “300 meters away.” Looking for the beach? 300 meters away! The summit of that mountain? 300 meters! That island in the distance? A mere 300 meter swim! We eventually got there, and our hotel manager looked a little annoyed with us which was inexplicable because we were the one who hiked 2 miles uphill to get to his property. “You were supposed to get here at 2 PM. I was going to come pick you up at 2 PM.” Hot, sweaty, smelling worse than the donkey that Darden would ride later on in our trip I was annoyed that he was annoyed by our earliness. An air conditioned room and a shower quietly undid my resentment.

We continued onto our exploration of the city. Naxos Town has labyrinth streets, allegedly to protect residents from the frequent pirate attacks that used to infest the city. Nowadays, they serve to bewilder tourists and create quiet walkways to stroll on. We headed to the Kastro. This was a section of the city that used to be inhabited by Venetians who came to the city and that still contains crumbling Venetian mansions, a Catholic church and an old school, among other things. There was a water microbiology conference going on there at the time we went. I found it to be a neat place to attend a conference, though you probably lost at least half of the attendees as they tried to find it.

Darden headed back to the hotel for a bit, and Leah and I wandered around before we got hungry and ate a waffle. Actually, I just wanted to have a place to sit in the shade, and the waffle restaurant, entitled “Waffle House” was enticing as was the smell of waffle drifting into the street. We sat next to an elderly gentleman who had enjoyed a waffle then fallen asleep in his chair. The waiter got a kick out of this; at first, he stood around the corner and took pictures on his cell phone- when he saw that I had noticed him, we both shared a laugh. Later, he got bolder and stood out in the open and used an actual camera to take pictures of him. Apparently, this was the most fun he had had in years. I should mention that this waffle eating came an hour before we ate dinner. But I attribute this more to the fact that I was boiling and wanting shade and less to the fact that I was seduced by the smell of waffles. Me? Choosing to eat a waffle covered with whipped cream, and hazelnut ice cream before dinner? Why on earth would I choose to do something so decadent in regards to food?

The next day, Darden really wanted to have a use for her running shoes and track shorts, so she and Leah decided to go on a hike. Me, feeling less sporty, went for a walk to the beach. Now there are some nice beaches in Naxos. But none quite equipped to take me and my vampire like skin- one hour in the sun would have required more sunscreen than I had. So I went in search of a shady place, which, in Greece, is like looking for a holy man at a midnight, Bourbon Street, Mardi Gras parade. I finally found a spot, but only obtained it by stalking the young Greek girls who sat there, and pouncing as soon as they left. I settled myself under a tree, and lay on the slimy, wet, flat rock next to a tidal pool. It was actually quite heavenly until a dude who looked like a German hustler decided to seek the shade of the tree and perched above me and spoke angry German into his phone for an hour, all the while staring at me like I was a mermaid. I finally left, but only after finishing the terrible book that I was reading.

Now here’s a pain that I felt acutely while in Greece- lack of good reading materials. I brought two books and one magazine with me to Greece, and they were finished within my first two days there. The rest of my trip, I was left to the mercy of the hostel/hotel bookshelves.

For those of you who have wondered about the reading level of the average European traveler, look no further than the hostel bookshelf! On this noble shelf you will probably find about sixty magazines, 90% of them in German and approximately ten years old, the rest in a mix of English and French, boasting such tantalizing titles as “Caterer and Hotelier Weekly” (which is about as boring as you can imagine, and makes you wonder about the person who carried this ALL THE WAY from the UK). The books you find will mostly be in German as well. The books in English will fit into one of three categories:

A. Travel books about Europe/the place you are visiting (mostly Lonely Planet, Let’s Go, and free travel books you get from airports and travel agencies)
B. The drama books such as Sci-fi books where every other word on the jacket is made up and specific to that book, or true crime novels where a girl goes to work as a babysitter in Iowa only to find out that THE ENTIRE FAMILY ARE BLOODTHIRSTY CANNIBALS!!

You think I exaggerate here for comedic effect, but if you were visiting Santorini or Antiparos last week, you would find these selections gracing their shelves. The third selection of books to choose from are no less frightening than selection B and will probably make you wish that you read a AAA travel book instead. The books that I ended up reading were from answer choice C:

C. Trashy British romance novels

Now, this in and of itself is not a bad genre. “Bridget Jones,” for example, was delightful. And considering that the Americans didn’t seem to be leaving any books, I suppose I should be grateful for the books left. But NO. Just NO. It is not possible to be grateful for these books. One of the books that I read from this glorious shelf, in particular, still makes me want to weep for the downfall of the English language (and the fact that this book was a bestseller). In this book, the girl is just SO SICK OF her irresponsible boyfriend. She dumps him, and while going home her boyfriend meets a fairy! Who loves him! And wants his baby! And the girlfriend realizes how controlling she’s been and she wins him back! But only after the fairy has to go back to her land through the portal at Stonehenge! And she gets her fairy baby in the end and the boyfriend and the girlfriend reconcile! And I can only use exclamation points because that’s how awesome this book was! And these are the books that British women seem to be transporting around Europe and leaving in hostels for desperate girls like me to find. Anyways, long segue later, this was the book that I finished on my slimy rock in Naxos, and which I had to replace later in my trip.

No pictures today, because I have a slow and unreliable internet connection, but soon, I hope. The next entry will be about Santorini.