Closure

We’ve been in Cottingham today, because having found buyers for Mummy’s bungalow, the task we’ve been putting off finally had to be tackled.  Though we’d already sorted out the personal treasures and taken them home for safety, there was still the tricky business of emptying wardrobes, kitchen cupboards and suchlike.  Fortunately, I’m blessed with a family who are ready and more than willing to step in at a moment’s notice, who rally round and make the job so very much easier.  Thanks to their help, we were able to get on with it with minimum fuss and bother.

For some reason, I felt it important that I dealt with the personal bits and pieces myself.  Never mind that she had no secrets, I didn’t like to think of a total stranger dealing with those things.  So, deep breaths taken, all courage gathered and some six hours later it’s more or less done.

Of course, we discovered little things tucked away.  Old letters, newspaper clippings and, totally out of the blue, a box containing my first ballet shoes, a Brownie card dated 1963 and a rather formal letter from my first employer informing me that I had “successfully completed the probationary period of my teaching career”.  Just as I was asking myself why on earth she kept such things, I reflected on what bits and pieces I squirrel away from Edward’s life and reckon I’ve inherited that particular weakness.  He hasn’t had ballet shoes to save (!) but I have still got his first little buckle sandals, never mind various letters offering university places, confirming degree results, job offers and so on.  It’s what proud Mummies do, isn’t it?

Or?

The comforting part of the day was meeting the buyers, who came over to talk about what we might leave behind for them – light fittings, curtains etc.  Having only spoken to them on the phone, we had no idea what they were like – not that it really mattered.

But imagine our delight to discover they are a couple of local teachers with two young daughters and, in seven weeks, will add a son to their number.  New house, new baby – their excitement at the prospect of making a new home for themselves was really lovely to witness and served to confirm that life does indeed go on.  Their younger daughter was so happy in the garden, collecting rose petals from the many rose bushes Daddy planted and took such pride in – he would have been thrilled to know that they will continue to be enjoyed.

Tomorrow, all that’s left to do are one or two last bits and we’ll leave it to this next generation and, though I dreaded letting go of this last link, I must say, it will come as a huge relief.

All good things

…come to an end.  We tried to stretch this one out a little longer, by lingering over breakfast watching one ferry after another leave the harbour here in Athens.  But sooner or later, we had to leave as well.

We’d had plans to visit the new Acropolis Museum but our habit of visiting cities on Mondays when such places are closed continues.  We settled for a view of it here and decided to walk in the other direction, towards the Archaeology Museum instead.

I was keen to get some photographs of the guards with the pompom shoes but again, it was a definite no go area for me due to those pesky pigeons.  Athens is absolutely full of the things and I walk in fear and trembling.  Not a comfortable place for me to be.

We enjoyed a leisurely walk along Panepistimiou Street towards the museum, loving the shapes of all these pastries.

We couldn’t resist taking a closer look at the National Academy – so much lavish decoration, so many owl motifs to spot, too!

Further along, the front facade of another of the “Trilogy” designed by Theophil Hansen  (I think this is the “Propylaea”) had this wonderful frieze along the whole length.  We couldn’t really get high enough to take better photos, but were interested to see variations on the “Meander” pattern from Ephesus here, too.

Too hot to sit in the sun drawing – thank goodness for digital cameras!

Though the beautiful classical buildings stand proudly back from the dreadfully busy traffic, sad to say that much of the street scene looked a little scruffier.  Perhaps not altogether surprising, considering the current situation here in Greece?

Thankfully, we didn’t have much further to walk until more attractive wall decorations were in sight.  I gathered a few more fragments for my collection as soon as we managed to gain access to the Museum.

I found a few hands to admire, too.

Not to mention some magnificently sculpted fabric folds

Though we’ve seen a fair bit of Roman sculpture recently, I’m a little less familiar with the Greek side of things.  In particular, I had no idea what lie in store in the next room, where the treasures from Mycenae were on display.

This was just one of around a dozen cases of gold treasures found in graves   dating from the sixteenth century BC.  The detail and patterning was remarkable and we stood for some time marvelling at the craftsmanship.

There were butterfly motifs, spirals and whorls, all absolutely regular and finely drawn.  This was so refined and not primitive in any way in spite of the great age.

In another room were small (about 1.5cm sq) pressed glass tiles which had been created to form jewellery – neckpieces and suchlike.

The subtle shades and patterns of these pieces were similarly sophisticated although rather more modern than the gold: These date from the 13th century BC.

Altogether quite awe-inspiring.  Unlike the pavement on the way back to our hotel.

Mind your step!

One last day

It was a bleary eyed room-service breakfast at 6.30am this morning, for our day in Ephesus was to begin at 7.40.  Much as we’d have liked a later start, it was a Good Thing, because we watched four huge cruise ships appear as our bus left the parking lot and we were ahead of them all.  Not only that, but it was comparatively cool still.

We were a little cool about returning to Ephesus so soon after our last visit.  Not that we didn’t enjoy it, but there were other places we’d have preferred to spend our time – Miletes, Didyma, Priene.  Anyway, here we were with Hakim, excellent guide, determined to make the most of our day.

I didn’t want to take the same photos again, so looked for different aspects.  As is often the case, I was glad to find patterns in the stones.

Of course, the sight of the arch with no other person in view is too good an opportunity to miss.

And really, how could I pass Nike by without taking a photograph?

More patterns

Hakim was good at finding shady spots and we did well at keeping ahead of the game.

Even so, we didn’t want to miss anything.

It was starting to get rather warm.  Hot, even.

I’m admiring the wonderful lettering, finding it hard to imagine the age of these stones and wishing I could read ancient Greek.

Our tour then takes us to somewhere new to us – the Terrace Houses.  Described as the biggest jigsaw puzzle on earth, archaeologists are working to piece these stones together to get a better picture of what these houses were like.

It being Sunday, no-one was at work but it was fascinating to see a process underway.

I’d say that they’re doing pretty well so far, with these beautiful frescoes bright and detailed.

Looking over the site from a steel and glass walkway, there were fine mosaics and beautifully preserved wall decorations.  We had seen none of these on our previous visit and were thrilled to be able to visit this part today.

We were also lucky that it was Sunday, because the Marble Street was open for us to walk along – it has been closed on weekdays because of the work taking place using that crane.

Looking back at the library from the Marble Street, it’s easy to pretend we had the place to ourselves…

But that was far from the truth, of course.

The Marble Street leads to the Theatre, where St Paul spoke to the Ephesians.

I don’t suppose he encountered quite the number of shopping opportunities, though.  Genuine Fake watch anyone?

Back in Kusadasi, the shopping is a little less tacky but equally good natured.

Our ship was never far away!

Retracing our steps

Is it possible to do that in a ship?  Probably not…

But today we took a south westerly route towards the Bosphorus and around 9am we took on a pilot to guide us through that busy stretch of water.  We were on deck to watch for all the landmarks we would be able to recognise from previously.

We were sailing pretty fast, considering the traffic levels.

We sailed past beautiful villas by the waterside.  I rather like the look of this one.

Under the first bridge and there’s the castle again.  We last saw it floodlit around midnight on the first night on board.

Under the second bridge and there’s that delightful mosque.

Ah, Dolmabahce Palace!  We were beginning to think our trip was on rewind as happy days from a week ago were relived.

Spectacular views.  What a fantastic city!

Turning the corner, we were away.  Bye, Istanbul.

After an afternoon in the Sea of Marmara, we entered the Dardanelles and around 7pm, sailed past the Gallipoli Memorial

Heading for Kusadasi tomorrow.

Back in the Ukraine

With a view of Margate.

I suppose to some yacht owners, Margate is a name conjuring up romantic associations of far away places.  But to moor alongside the nameplate this morning as we arrived in Yalta was enough to bring a smile to our faces.

Trying to decipher the exclamation on the back of the coach seat, we found ourselves distracted by the interior decor of the vehicle.

Two deep pelmets of brightly coloured nylon fabric, box pleated around the whole coach, including the windscreen created more than a little comment from our fellow travellers.

The tropical design of palm trees and straw huts seemed altogether out of place, too.  But we were on our way to Livadiya Palace, the summer residence of the last Tsar and his family, so we had better things to think about.

Of course, this was also the site of the famous Yalta Conference, so ears were pricked as the commentary told the story of this fascinating place.

It’s a beautiful building, very personal to the royal family, even though they visited only four times.

The ceiling of the ballroom, where the treaty was signed was superb – the architect had decided that chandeliers would spoil the design, so the lighting comes from above an architrave and is very effective.  With doors on both sides, there is a through breeze and the whole room is wonderfully light and airy.

In the next room, the chandelier had been brought from Murano and the red, white and blue colours were just enough to give it personality.  The room itself had dark red walls and was otherwise rather dreary.

Whereas the downstairs rooms were laid out as for the Yalta Conference of 1945, the upstairs rooms were furnished as for the Royal Family.  I really loved the personal details, the family photographs which were everywhere, because Kodak had given the family one of the first cameras.

Here were mementos of happy family occasions, of holidays and visits to the country.

One corridor was full of such photographs, such as this charming one of a young prince.

Sad to think that they would experience such a dreadful fate just a short time afterwards.

Shopping opportunities followed, for berioska dolls and musical boxes amongst other things.

 

More shopping opportunities by the viewpoint of the Swallows Nest, too.  Known locally as Lastochkino Gnezdo, it’s the symbol of Yalta.

Final stop was at the Vorontsovsky Palace, where the British Delegation to the Yalta Conference were hosted, including Winston Churchill.  I loved the four huge lions who were posed in front of the entrance, in particular this sleepy one.  Any child who tried to hug or climb aboard the marble beasts received a sharp blast on a whistle from the man whose sole responsibility appeared to be to keep an eye out for such miscreants.

Much of the time, he was distracted by other things and the children got away with it.  Perhaps not because he was intrigued by the knitting/crochet, though?