Olympia II.

The next morning, we awoke early-ish and headed for Olympia again, this time to see the actual grounds on which the Olympic Games were held, millennia ago. The sun was shining and a few light clouds laced the sky, promising a cheerful, if slightly chilly, morning.

The site is amazing, and much more of it has survived than I expected. They have even resurrected a single column from Zeus' temple, which is pretty impressive. The temple must have been huge, and it is said that in the 5th century AD, an earthquake shook the foundations with so much power that the entire temple opened, like a giant stone flower, from the center, and the sides fell away like petals.

This phenomenon is actually visible, just from looking at how the columns on the south side of the temple fell. Amazing, no?

The site also includes the temple of Hera and an ancient building (The workshop of Pheidias, the master behind the creation of the chryselephantine sculpture of Zeus) that was converted into an early Christian church. Plus, perhaps the most important component to modern visitors, the stadium of the Olympic Games. Hipster and I raced the short track to the end and back, chariot style (no circling, just touch-and-go), and I was sorely trounced. It was fun though, and shockingly enough, despite the cold, my lungs didn't freeze up as bad as they commonly do.

In the ten minutes during which we visited the stadium, the sky turned a dark grey, and by the time we were finishing our race it was raining heavily upon us. The rain and thunder had materialized as if by magic from a clear sky, and it was easy to see how the imagination could easily conjure up a finicky god to explain the sudden onset of such tempestuous weather.

We retired under this liquid duress to the relative safety of our bus, and off we went through the pretty Peloponnesian countryside towards our final overnight stay on the tour, Nafplio. On the way there we stopped and enjoyed local baklava and cream pastries in a tiny town in the mountains, and were introduced to Greek coffee, which is to say coffee resting above a very thick sludge that should not, under any circumstances, be consumed.

While we played Checkers and drank coffee, some of the other group members had sought out a place for drinks of a more substantial nature, and the Captain Morgan's and sprite that 80 consumed in the 10 minutes that she thought we had before returning to the bus (it turned out we had 40, whoops!) was a neat trick. She had obviously finally acclimated to my French cousins' lifestyle. Still, we made sure she drank lots of water before we returned to the bus, and that turned out to have been a pretty mean trick, as the drive to Nafplio took longer than we thought, and when we arrived our guide kindly gave us a quick driving tour before letting us out to check into the hotel. My verbal commentary on how much water was all around us in the sleepy seaside port and Dad's imitation of water droplets probably didn't help matters.

My, we are horribly mean, aren't we?

In any case, disaster narrowly averted after our arrival at the hotel, the boys and I had a momentary informational lesson when it was made clear that HR had never been introduced to the concept of a bidet, and our room's ensuite bathroom contained one. A short explanation later, we were exiting when some of the girls dropped by, and it became apparent that some of them hadn't been introduced to the concept either. So a short explanation was worked out, to the effect of "If you blow your nose, you wash your hands in a sink. If you use a toilet, you wash your ass* in a Bidet").

If any of you wants more information, Nexwell has a very informative website about the benefits on their portable bidet product page (bet you didn't know they made portable ones, did you? I'm guessing the customs guys get a kick out of those when they scan luggage at the airport!).

Where was I?

Ah yes, so we checked in and grabbed our gear to go out for a walk. . .

*If you'll excuse the pun: "Pardon my French." Har!