We had tried to arrange for passage on board a hydrofoil to Monemvassia while we were in Athens, but, maybe because of the language barrier, just couldn't seem to do it. So, we had just about resigned ourselves to the fact that if we were going to visit Monemvassia, we would have to get there by bus... about a tortuous 5-hour mountain trip. The gods were with us for, when we were in Nauplion, we found that we could indeed get there by hydrofoil, transferring at the island of Spetses. It's a great way to travel over water. Once the vessel gains speed, you can't imagine a smoother ride.
I knew too much. I wanted to stay on that boat forever. As I looked out through the light fog at the land and the islands with my history-squinty eyes, I thought of Odysseus returning from Troy on his unnaturally extended voyage. Here, also, along the shores of the Peloponnese, was where Theseus, the slayer of the dreaded Minotaur, first left home to make his mark in the world of legend.
After several intermediate stops, we landed in Monemvassia and looked around us. There was a tall Gibraltar-looking rock to the east of us and a bleak-looking beach town to the west, connected by a barren causeway... perhaps a half-mile in length. We headed west because there, at least, was some sign of life. In the other direction, none.
It was discouraging. The hotel we were looking for, Malvasia, was supposed to have been converted from an ancient castle. Nothing like that anywhere. To make matters worse, no one spoke English... merely shrugging their shoulders in response to my question or replying: 'To Castro!' We located a place to eat and while my wife remained there with our luggage, I continued to search for accommodations. 'To Castro?' Had we stumbled into a Communist enclave of some sort? Finally I found someone who was able to tell me that 'To Castro' referred to the castle and he suggested that I get a cab and yell at the driver: 'To Castro!' and see what happens.
I found a cab and did as instructed: 'To Castro!' And off we went back across the causeway, past the boat dock, toward the big rock mountain where I could see absolutely nothing that suggested living quarters. We pulled up to an archway in a huge stone wall and the driver made it clear that this was where I had directed him to take me. The entrance was too small for our cab to go through and the only thing I had with me as security to leave with him, so that when I returned I would find him there, was a tour guide book. I left it and went forth on foot to my fate.
It was like Alice passing through the looking glass and entering into Wonderland! In sharp contrast to what I had just left behind me, this was enchanting; this was magical. The red-tile roofed alabaster and cobblestone buildings, the lanterned shops, the narrow crooked streets, the medieval archways... all were absolutely charming. Flowers everywhere I turned. A few people even spoke English and told me to follow the little yellow arrows to my destination. I ran through the winding streets chasing the arrows, some of which were painted on the buildings at critical junctures, and finally came to Malvasia where I found a young woman in the office who could speak a little English and I told her what I wanted. A party had just left one of their suites and she showed it to me. There was no doubt in my mind that this was what we were seeking. I told her that I would get my wife and we would be right back.
I retraced my steps at a run, jumped into my cab, retrieved my now pointless tour guidebook, and returned to gather up my wife, her partially finished lunch, our luggage, and back to Wonderland. As soon as she saw it, my wife made it unanimous... we had found our paradise. We had two rooms: a bedroom and a living room plus a bath. The thick stone walls kept the place cool in spite of the summer heat. And, to make things perfect, we were adopted by a small terrier whom we promptly named Ouzo. Mostly, Ouzo stayed around our rooms and followed us only when we went down to the beach which was a three-minute walk from our front doorstep.
The beach was delightful! The beautiful European women had the most pleasant habit of sitting around in topless bathing suit fashion, much to the interest and joy of all of the males present. The water was warm and clear and one could do some goggling both underwater as well as on the beach. What had begun as a planned two-day stay was converted to six days and we forgot all about expanding our store of knowledge about ancient Greece in favor of the hedonistic enjoyment of the present.
Each morning I jogged into town, which was on the opposite end of the causeway, and picked up some rolls and fresh juicy peaches for breakfast. It gave me a chance to practice one of the few Greek words that I knew: kahleemehra, good morning. In the afternoons we would while away the hours on the small rocky beach shelf, now shaded by the big rock's shadow... with an occasional cooling off swim. And, in the evenings, there were several good restaurants close by where we could relax, eat the local fish or lamb, sip an ouzo, and sing a paean to the gods.
One afternoon, we made the dizzying switch-back climb to the top of the 1000 foot high rock. On the top is the Aghia Sophia, a Byzantine church, in remarkably good repair. We inspected the large, rectangular old cisterns, now in some dire need of algae removal and general maintenance. These cisterns and the physical difficulty of gaining access to the upper town, enabled the Monemvassians of a by-gone day to hold out against any and all invaders.
Ultimately, of course, we had to leave. Ouzo said her last goodbye to us when we left our rooms with our packed bags and headed for the wharf. As our hydrofoil left Monemvassia we kept looking back, first at Ouzo and then at the Rock of which we had become so fond. Our first impression of Monemvassia had been so totally negative while our departing and lasting impression was so totally warm and positive as to make any comparison meaningless. We made a bittersweet promise to ourselves that someday we would return knowing, sadly, that it would never be.