Sherrill and I visited together more than 60 countries and most of the United States during our 52 years of marriage. This is number 22 of a series about our lives and travels. If you scroll down, you'll come to earlier posts in this series. To start at the beginning of our marriage look at the Archives list in the sidebar and start with May, 2017.
The next morning, we woke up inside a volcano. The Neptune was encircled by shattered fragments of the ancient island of Thera. The largest of these islands was Santorini, thought by some to have been home to the city of Atlantis. The ship felt very small riding in the center of this vast broken soup bowl. The crew helped us into tenders, that, tilting and bouncing on the waves, somehow got us to the island, where we climbed onto a waiting bus for the ride of our lives. During the night, the sea had been rough, so Sherrill had doped herself on Dramamine. Lucky her.
The next morning, we woke up inside a volcano. The Neptune was encircled by shattered fragments of the ancient island of Thera. The largest of these islands was Santorini, thought by some to have been home to the city of Atlantis. The ship felt very small riding in the center of this vast broken soup bowl. The crew helped us into tenders, that, tilting and bouncing on the waves, somehow got us to the island, where we climbed onto a waiting bus for the ride of our lives. During the night, the sea had been rough, so Sherrill had doped herself on Dramamine. Lucky her.
 Simone & Sherrill in front of the Neptune |  Simone & Sherrill in our cabin |
The three of us settled on the back seat, where the bus extended beyond the rear wheels, we began climbing toward the white buildings stacked on the rocks and cliffs far above. To navigate the steep ascent, the road zigzagged from one sharp switch-back to another. At each one, the driver had to back up to position the bus for the next climb, our seat cantilevered into space beyond the cliff edge. Still groggy from the Dramamine, head bouncing on the seat back, Sherrill had no idea that our lives were in peril at every twist of the road. I kept staring at the little shrines decorated with artificial flowers that marked places where people had died—at least one at each switch-back.
"The driver doesn't want to die," Sherrill would have told me, if she'd been conscious. She always did.
Finally, still breathing, we reached the white and blue town at the top of the cliffs. Continuing across the top of the island, past orchards of silvery-green olive trees, we eventually saw the remains of the Minoan city of Akrotiri sprawled beneath protective canopies. Walking along ancient streets between houses and shops still being excavated, many as tall as three stories, walls decorated with frescoes visible again after four thousand years smothered in ash, we could imagine the people and families who lived here and their horror when the mountain they lived on destroyed itself.
"The driver doesn't want to die," Sherrill would have told me, if she'd been conscious. She always did.
Finally, still breathing, we reached the white and blue town at the top of the cliffs. Continuing across the top of the island, past orchards of silvery-green olive trees, we eventually saw the remains of the Minoan city of Akrotiri sprawled beneath protective canopies. Walking along ancient streets between houses and shops still being excavated, many as tall as three stories, walls decorated with frescoes visible again after four thousand years smothered in ash, we could imagine the people and families who lived here and their horror when the mountain they lived on destroyed itself.
Simone & Sherrill on Galata Bridge, Istanbul
Later, back on the other side of the island, we gazed down again at the Neptune, a toy boat bobbing in the dark water, surrounded by the fleshy earth of the volcano's broken walls. It had brought us here and would take us to Ephesus and Rhodes and beyond. We could have walked or ridden donkeys down to the sea, but rode the new funicular, Sherrill and I in the last seat, Simone wedged into the first with an enormously fat man and his tiny wife.
History and fun and games: the Neptune's staff kept them alternating so no one could be bored. Daily lectures on upcoming sites, morning gymnastics, Greek dancing lessons, music and dancing most evenings, a Greek Night show with entertainment by the crew, and more. Every time I walked into the dining room with Simone and Sherrill I felt privileged. On costume night, Simone disguised herself as a ship's waiter, including red vest and black moustache.
One lesson of this trip was that civilizations come and go. Some people believe that survivors from Akrotiri reached the island of Crete to the south. Whether that's true or not, we were impressed by the partially restored palace complex at Knossos with its confusing maze of rooms. The ancient city may have lasted for two thousand years, but in the end it collapsed, probably after a series of earthquakes.
History and fun and games: the Neptune's staff kept them alternating so no one could be bored. Daily lectures on upcoming sites, morning gymnastics, Greek dancing lessons, music and dancing most evenings, a Greek Night show with entertainment by the crew, and more. Every time I walked into the dining room with Simone and Sherrill I felt privileged. On costume night, Simone disguised herself as a ship's waiter, including red vest and black moustache.
One lesson of this trip was that civilizations come and go. Some people believe that survivors from Akrotiri reached the island of Crete to the south. Whether that's true or not, we were impressed by the partially restored palace complex at Knossos with its confusing maze of rooms. The ancient city may have lasted for two thousand years, but in the end it collapsed, probably after a series of earthquakes.
Sherrill at Knossos, Crete
Sherrill at Delos The vast remains of Roman Ephesus (according to legend, founded by Amazons) in Turkey underlined the lesson: no matter how grand or powerful, nothing was forever. Much had been uncovered and pieced back together so we got a vivid sense of the ancient city. Visitors from around the world were maneuvering with their cameras along stone streets and on nearby hills, trying to capture perfect shots of the city—one way, maybe, for it to last a little longer. When we reached the island of Rhodes a few days later, the magnificent Crusader harbor, medieval fortress, and battlements looked as if they could endure to the end of time, but weren't even a thousand years old, yet.
Nothing is forever even though we tell ourselves that it is, will be, can be. We pretend it is, but know it's not. The people in our lives aren't forever, either. They change, become somebody else, turn into memories.
"There used to be this little girl who lived with us," Sherrill once said to me. "She was a cute little thing, but she's gone away and instead we have this young woman that we love, but I miss that little girl, too. Why can't we have both?"
She was right, of course. We never can keep anyone. It's as if all of us are made of smoke. It was strange, hearing Sherrill talk like this. She was so practical, the sensible one of the two of us. I'd always been aware that a lot went on in her head, but usually she was private about her thoughts.
I think we both felt the same thing years later whenever we looked at our handsome grandson and remembered that this brilliant grown man living his own life once had been a lively toddler. The process, of course, was gradual, but inevitably we'd be startled by the sudden realization. Now that Sherrill is gone, I find myself caught between past and present in a different way. It's sad but also, in its way, appropriate that time refuses to stand still—nor, when we think about it, would we want it to be frozen. Happiness has its bittersweet moments, too, as life gives with one hand and at the same time takes away with the other.
Back on the mainland, after saying goodbye to the Neptune at Piraeus, we rode through the Greek countryside, past more silvery olive groves, to Delphi, home of the notorious oracle. There, people came from around the Mediterranean to see the eternal flame in Apollo's temple, to watch the sacred games (almost as popular as those at Olympia) every four years, and to hear the priestess predict the future through her trance. Even before this, the mother goddess Gaia was worshiped there. Walking among the partially restored buildings, I remembered when I talked with a carnival fortune teller when I was a boy. I wanted to believe in her power, but as she tried to extract bits of information from me to add plausibility to her words, I realized that she was as much of a fake as the others.
Epidaurus, home of Greek drama, with its two thousand year-old theatre, was solidly real, though. Perhaps the most impressive site, however, was the complex at Mycenae, with the imposing Lion Gate and royal tombs shaped like enormous stone beehives. Although excavations were still in progress, we felt as if we'd fallen backward through time into the world Homer described in The Iliad and The Odyssey.
Athens, ancient and modern, brought our adventure to a sedate close, leading us from restaurants in the old Plaka district to the wonders at the Archeological Museum, from the Theatre of Dionysus to the Parthenon and other treasures on the Acropolis. I don't need to describe these places, but being there, experiencing the feeling of history and past lives, did stir something in us. Nothing is forever, but does that necessarily matter?
To be continued....
Nothing is forever even though we tell ourselves that it is, will be, can be. We pretend it is, but know it's not. The people in our lives aren't forever, either. They change, become somebody else, turn into memories.
"There used to be this little girl who lived with us," Sherrill once said to me. "She was a cute little thing, but she's gone away and instead we have this young woman that we love, but I miss that little girl, too. Why can't we have both?"
She was right, of course. We never can keep anyone. It's as if all of us are made of smoke. It was strange, hearing Sherrill talk like this. She was so practical, the sensible one of the two of us. I'd always been aware that a lot went on in her head, but usually she was private about her thoughts.
I think we both felt the same thing years later whenever we looked at our handsome grandson and remembered that this brilliant grown man living his own life once had been a lively toddler. The process, of course, was gradual, but inevitably we'd be startled by the sudden realization. Now that Sherrill is gone, I find myself caught between past and present in a different way. It's sad but also, in its way, appropriate that time refuses to stand still—nor, when we think about it, would we want it to be frozen. Happiness has its bittersweet moments, too, as life gives with one hand and at the same time takes away with the other.
Back on the mainland, after saying goodbye to the Neptune at Piraeus, we rode through the Greek countryside, past more silvery olive groves, to Delphi, home of the notorious oracle. There, people came from around the Mediterranean to see the eternal flame in Apollo's temple, to watch the sacred games (almost as popular as those at Olympia) every four years, and to hear the priestess predict the future through her trance. Even before this, the mother goddess Gaia was worshiped there. Walking among the partially restored buildings, I remembered when I talked with a carnival fortune teller when I was a boy. I wanted to believe in her power, but as she tried to extract bits of information from me to add plausibility to her words, I realized that she was as much of a fake as the others.
Epidaurus, home of Greek drama, with its two thousand year-old theatre, was solidly real, though. Perhaps the most impressive site, however, was the complex at Mycenae, with the imposing Lion Gate and royal tombs shaped like enormous stone beehives. Although excavations were still in progress, we felt as if we'd fallen backward through time into the world Homer described in The Iliad and The Odyssey.
Athens, ancient and modern, brought our adventure to a sedate close, leading us from restaurants in the old Plaka district to the wonders at the Archeological Museum, from the Theatre of Dionysus to the Parthenon and other treasures on the Acropolis. I don't need to describe these places, but being there, experiencing the feeling of history and past lives, did stir something in us. Nothing is forever, but does that necessarily matter?
To be continued....
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