National Past Time

Chasers, starting tomorrow at 2:30 PM Greek Time (that’s 6:00 AM CST), we are moving on out.  That’s right, my time in Greece has ended and soon the Three Caballeros and I, along with 26 others, are off to Rome, Italy.  We’ve had quite the last week here in Athens, trying desperately to get in everything that we hadn’t seen yet.  Our classes officially ended on Monday, so this entire week has been spent running around and seeing as many things as possible.  So excuse me if I haven’t been around to write a blog entry, but for the first time since getting here I can honestly tell you that I’ve been too busy.

Classes ended on a high note here.  When I last wrote, I still had a History and Art test to fret over.  Why was I fretting?  No clue.  Both of them were a lot easier than I had expected, and I hadn’t even stayed up studying the entire weekend (like some of the girls on this trip did).  It was quite the relief to be done because it meant the start of two straight weeks without class.  Once again, I ask you to pray for me and my difficult life…this is far too tough of a schedule for any mere mortal to deal with.

With the end of classes came the questions of “Now what?”  But, after a week of running around the entire city, I think we’ve sufficiently answered any questions of what to do in this town.  One thing that we hadn’t done yet was to climb all the hills around Athens.  There are a couple large hills on the North and South side of the Acropolis that provide amazing vantage points of the Parthenon and the rest of the sprawling city below.  We climbed the first hill around 1:00 PM on Wednesday (the one on the South side of the Acropolis).  This hill is so important that I forgot its name.  But seriously, it is kind of important.  And upon further research the hill is called Filopappou Hill.  How did I forget that?

In the 1800’s the Venetians were sitting on top of this hill looking at their enemies across the way…the Turks.  The Turks were cooped up on the Acropolis, and both parties were firing cannon balls back and forth like some sort of deadly ping-pong game.   Pulling one of the stupidest moves in history, the Turks decided to store their ammunition INSIDE the Parthenon.  Great call guys.  Really shows your dedication to history.  Obviously, one of the Venetian cannon balls went straight through a hole in the Parthenon roof, hit the cluster of Turkish ammunition, and blew up the Parthenon.  Art historians everywhere cried and Chinese firework-makers took notes.

Besides being on of the most notorious locations in world, this hill actually had quite the view.  We hung around for an hour and took some pictures before making our way back to CYA to meet up with some others so we could (you guessed it) go climb another hill!  The point of climbing this hill (Lycabettus Hill…that one I remembered) was to go see the best view of the sunset in all of Athens.  Lycabettus Hill is the tallest hill here, towering about three times as high as the Acropolis.  According to my guidebook, it’s the #1 thing to do during a trip to Athens.  It only took me two months to listen.  Needless to say, the view was spectacular.  We got up there with a little time to spare, allowing us to take plenty of pictures of the quaint church on the top and the city way down below.  Soon, however, the sun began its slow creep down and over the mountains, putting an end to the day.  The remaining orange glow served as a perfect reminder of the short amount of time we had left here before the dusk settled on our Greek journey.

The next day was one of the busiest of the semester.  Besides having to prepare for our departure, we still had a lot to see.  The main order of business: The 2004 Olympic Park.  We set out to see Athens’ largest stadium and recreational area at about 3:30 PM.  Little did we know that we wouldn’t be back until 2:00 AM.

After a half hour of riding on the metro, we arrived.  We had originally set out to see the stadium, but it turns out that basically every other venue for the 2004 Olympics was there too.  At first we didn’t think we were even going to be allowed into the park, but we soon found out how lackadaisical Greek security is.  Every venue in the park seemed to be semi-blocked off.  There were fences that ended too early, doors that were unlocked, and guards that were oblivious to anyone’s presence.  I’m not sure exactly how many things we saw that we shouldn’t have, but we definitely saw a lot.

Since the Olympics, the whole place had turned into one giant fitness club.  The Olympic pool that Michael Phelps once dominated was filled with kids learning how to swim.  The diving pool was festooned with amateurs who kept belly flopping into the deep waters below.  The indoor velodrome, once used for high speed cycling races, was being practiced on by a couple serious bikers along with someone on a moped and two people on a tandem bike.  It was like the Olympics gone mad.

Gradually we made our way to the giant landmark that we had really come to see.  By 5:00, after sneaking through one more hole in the fencing, we were right in front of the Olympic Stadium.  I should mention at this point that one of the reasons for going there was because there was a scheduled soccer game against the leaders in the Greek league (Panathanaikos) and the Austrian league.  We had been told the game was at 8:00.  So, you can imagine our surprise when there was no one else at the stadium except us.  As we walked around to the East side, we started to see security.  We tried to ask one guard to let us in, but he shut us down (more about that later, though, in the European Insult section).  We continued on, hoping that maybe we’d find someone who was easier to fool.  Basically, our walk was taking us on a gradual spiral downward towards field level on the same side that we first walked up to.  We started to pass multiple guards, none of which asked us any questions.  By the time we had done a full circle, we had gone down an entire level and had somehow reached the Southwest tunnel into the stadium.  Acting as nonchalant as possible, we walked right in.  Though we were stopped eventually, we still had enough time to take pictures of the field and the amazing facility that surrounded it (unfortunately, however, there wasn’t enough time to run a race at this stadium, but on the plus side, that means my Olympic stadium record will still stand at 2-0).

After being led back out, we decided to try to get in one more place.  We walked back the way we had came from, heading back towards all the security guards.  Without pausing, we strolled right through all of them and into the main players tunnel on the Southeast side.  When we made it to the field this time, no one stopped us.  We figured that every guard probably assumed that we had been questioned earlier, so they didn’t want to bother us again.  It took about a half hour before someone finally built up the courage to ask us what we were doing.  He was a heavier Greek guard who seemed as if he’d never confronted anyone before.  He probably got a service medal for actually doing something as a security guard, because no one else was doing anything.

With the image of the beautiful 70,000-seat stadium fresh in our minds, it was hard for the five of us to pass up actually buying tickets to the soccer game.  We made our way back to the metro station (where the box office was), bought our tickets, and headed back to the stadium.  At this point it was about 7:30 and still none of the gates to the stadium were open, nor were there any fans.  This seemed kind of suspicious, but we continued on.  We got to our gate and handed the people our tickets.  Unexpectedly, the guards freaked out.  It was about now that a wave of realization started to wash over us.  There was a reason that the stadium was so deserted and why we had been able to “sneak” in everywhere without anyone caring.  The game didn’t start until 10:30.  We were the first ones there, probably earlier than any fans had ever been before.  And, on top of that, we were apparently entering into the Austrian fan section.

Though we couldn’t understand why at the time, the guards had freaked because all of the Austrian fans were supposed to be arriving together to make crowd control easier.  We were escorted in to the main concourse of the stadium where we were greeted by the head of security, a huge mobile police headquarters, and a throng of police dressed in full riot gear.  What were we getting ourselves into?  The head of security took our tickets and led us to our seats, but as we arrived, he stopped short.  He turned around and asked, “Do you really want to sit here?” as if we were signing a death wish by doing so.  We still were lost, and didn’t understand why our seats would be so bad.  They looked perfectly fine (12^th row in the corner).  But then he explained: the Austrian fans would be sitting in the second deck directly above us…all 7,500 of them.  These seats were in perfect throwing range to get hit by anything they threw over the second deck.  And apparently, these Austrian fans were coming to fight.  Uh oh.

Realizing that we were ignorant to any and all dangers of going to a soccer game, the head of security (Nikos was his name) led us to some seats at the top of the first deck, underneath the overhanging second deck.  These would be safe.  Since we all probably were looking like scared puppies, Nikos promised that he would stay outside this section and keep an eye on us.  He stopped talking mid-sentence, hearing something in the distance.

“Do you hear that?” he asked

“Hear what?” we responded

“They’re coming.”

Suddenly, we started to hear cheers erupting outside the stadium behind us.  The Austrian fans had arrived.  They were bellowing like some sort of barbaric army ready for battle.  It was as ominous as this.  They were interrupted sharply by a loud bang that made us jump even though we were inside.  “Tear gas,” explained Nikos.  This was going to be interesting.

The next three hours were spent in anticipation, fear, excitement, and any other emotion that you can think of.  We waved to the guard who had stopped us in the tunnel, listened to the Austrians singing outside, and waited as the stadium lights grew brighter and the sky grew darker.

It turned out that the slow anticipation might’ve been the best part of the game.  Panathanaikos ended up winning 1-0 on a penalty kick, but other than a couple decent tries there wasn’t much offense.  However, it was an experience that I am definitely glad I was a part of.  Hearing that stadium rock with cheers and songs the entire game was amazing.  I mean, the Panathanaikos fans literally never stopped cheering and waving their giant flags for 90 minutes.  Now that’s dedication.

Alas, now that we had finally experienced the true Greek pastime, our time in Greece had officially past (see what I did there?).  I write to you now with less than 24 hours to go before I land in Rome.  My last load of laundry is drying in the window, my travel plans are neatly placed in a folder, and my last gyro at Grill and Pita awaits me.  Greece has been a pleasant surprise for me this trip, as I originally came here because I got to see Rome afterwards.  Now the icing on the cake is near and I can’t wait to eat it.

But before we get there, we have quite the weeklong trip planned.  The Three Caballeros and I are again heading out on our own, this time to see Venice, Salzburg, and South Germany.  We will be traveling to a new city almost every day until Halloween, so I will probably have a lot to write about when we finally get to Rome.  But, for the last time, I now say Kalinikta from Greece.  See you in Rome.

Here is the link to all the pictures from the last week in Athens.  Enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Nikos, the Head of Security at the Olympic Stadium.  Not only did Nikos help us to our own seats, send us a snack man, and discuss America with us, he also later got two Bennies into the game for free.  He even informed the owner of Panathanaikos Football Club that there were seven Americans at the game.  The owner responded by telling Nikos to treat us like VIP’s.  I love Greek Security!

European Insult Tally:

Bill—1

Scott—3

Matt—1

Ryan—3:  Ryan scored another point because of a quick-witted comment he used during our walk around the Olympic Stadium.  Ryan was the man we sent to ask the guard to let us into the stadium.  Moments after we were shut down, a Greek man on a bike rode up to the guard, said something in Greek, and continued on into the stadium.  Without hesitation, Ryan turned to the guard and asked a new question: “Can you tell me where we can rent bicycles?”

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

2009 Olympics

It’s been a hectic week here in Greece for probably the first time since we’ve been here.  Classes are winding down (we only have two right now, and one’s done tomorrow, the other on Monday), homework is piling up (actually, that’s a lie), and we are now done with all of our excursions.  Our final one was last weekend, a three-day trip that circled us around the entire Peloponnesian peninsula, culminating in a two-night stay in ancient Olympia.  For those of you who are completely oblivious to any sporting knowledge, Olympia was the birthplace of the Olympics, still held today every four years (including 2016 in Chicag…oh wait, they lost).  Unfortunately, for the first time on our excursions, I was unable to think of a Lord of the Rings city to compare Olympia to.  How disappointed are you Chasers?

Just because I couldn’t compare Olympia to the ultimate fantasy realm doesn’t mean it wasn’t awesome.  It was actually probably my favorite place so far.  Filled with ancient ruins of statues, temples, and stadiums, Olympia still maintained the feel of a magical place that I could envision all Greeks making pilgrimages to.  Basically, Olympia is an open field in one of the few fertile areas in Greece.  Two rivers and large trees border the city, which is a giant grassy plain.  Amongst this plain lay some of the coolest artifacts in the world.

The first important object is the Temple of Zeus.  The temple itself has fallen apart, but it once housed one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World…the 17-meter ivory and gold statue of Zeus himself.  So where is Zeus today?  Some king decided to melt the statue down and make some more bracelets to wear.  How selfish.

The most important parts of Olympia, however, dealt with the Olympic games.  There is Hera’s Alter, where they still light the Olympic torch today before it travels on a relay to the new host country.  There are the fields where the first Olympic wrestling matches were held, including the Penkration, where the only rule was “No Biting.”  And of course, there is the original Olympic stade.  If all this doesn’t spell “Time for Scott to show off his superior athleticism,” I don’t know what does.

It’s pretty easy to still get pumped up heading towards the Olympic stadium.  The original tunnel still remains where the athletes would enter to thunderous applause, along with the original stade (or 200-meter long track).  The best part yet?  You can still run on it.  This of course prompted all of us to have a 30-person race—Bennies and Johnnies—with the winner getting to brag for the rest of their lives.  Gametime!

Since the guys here are all good Johnnies, the women were given a 25-30 meter head start (it could’ve been because they specifically had their own starting line, but we’ll just say we were being gentlemen).  Once the camera was ready and we had taken plenty of starting line pictures, it was time to race.  The girls requested to have one more picture, causing all the guys to wait nonchalantly at our starting line.  It was the perfect trap.  With us looking around the grassy bowl that made up the stadium, the girls jumped off the line and started running.  Cheaters!

Not wanting to be shown up, all the guys sprinted off the line, already having been fooled by the girl’s genius ploy.  For the first 100 meters, we played catch-up, gradually making our way towards the girls pack.  Fatigue began to set in.  Girls started dropping back like flies.  We were picking them off one-by-one, moving swiftly towards the front of the pack.  With 50 meters to go, we were free…or, at least some of us were.  Some of the Johnnies had gotten tired as well and started to back off, but I pushed on.  There was only one person between the finish line and me…Ryan.  Now Ryan is no athletic slouch himself, having played high school football and run track.  This was going to be a fight to the finish.

As we barreled down the line, our professors cheered.  We both were in full sprint, but Ryan didn’t yet know that I was right behind him.  I used my timeless old track tactic of pulling right behind him before making a move, but there was precious little space left.  With ten meters to go, I went for it.  I pulled around Ryan like a slingshot, switching into my sixth gear and pulling up beside him.  We were neck-and-neck, going down to the wire, ready for a photo finish.  We reached the line and I leaned forward, breaking the plane just before him.  I had done it!  Like Michael Johnson in his heyday, I had now won the 400-meter at the Marble Stadium and the 200-meter at the Original Olympic stadium.  How many people can say that?

The rest of the day was spent resting up our legs, playing cards, and trying our best to crash a Greek wedding at our hotel (we failed, but still were able to snag some pieces of candy).  Also, I had one of my biggest moments of cultural immersion when the Greek national soccer game came on.  The TV was quickly surrounded by over 30 members of the wedding reception who were clearly more interested in soccer than dancing.  It was surreal to stand there with a bunch of people who I couldn’t speak to, but that were still cheering for the same thing as me.  When one of the Greek forwards scored a bicycle-kick goal to take a two-goal lead, we all went nuts (Here's the highlights).  I felt so Greek.  I was later brought back to my American roots when a Greek man came over after the game ended and asked me some question in Greek.  He pointed to the TV, so I assumed he wanted the score, which I told him was 5 to 2.  He gave a different reaction than I expected, making a shocked face and quickly running downstairs to the rooms.  I stood there questioning my answer, hoping that the man hadn’t asked me the time.  Oops.  Early night for him.

The next day was our final day in Olympia.  Like the mature college kids we are, we spent the day going back to the sight and taking pictures of us doing some wrestling moves in the Olympic wrestling arena.  Just look at the pictures at the end.  It’s too difficult to describe.

Now that we’re back in Athens, we’re down to the home stretch.  Like my race against Ryan and the rest of the group, everything seems to be quickly moving towards the finish line.  We’ve made our plans to travel between Athens and Rome (we are going to Venice, Salzburg, and the Eagle’s Nest), and have already found out our flat-mates.  At long last, the Three Caballeros have been officially split up, with Ryan and Bill in the four-person room and Matt and I in the seven person room.  Since we are spread all over the city, we will be a good 40-minute bus ride from the other Caballeros.  But that’s what the rest of the group is for.

Lastly, I’d like to congratulate the Minnesota Twins on a great year.  Though it is too bad that they got swept by the Yankees (who I hate more than any team in the world), it may be for the best because we now can stop staying up until 5 AM every other night.  So, I guess what I’m saying is thank you Twins and thank you Metrodome.  Better luck outdoors next year.

Finally, I have pictures up from the last two weeks.  Enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Snickers.  Apparently it is difficult for dogs to Skype with people in Greece, but Snickers gets a shout-out for at least giving a good effort.  This makes her the first non-human shout-out recipient, which I think she should get a treat for.  Just tell her it’s from me, please.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-3

Matt-1

Ryan-2

I could give out points for us trying to get into a Greek wedding, but that’s more of a compliment than an insult, isn’t it?

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves 

Buzzed Lightyear

If any of you Chasers were to ask me what superpower I would want most, I’d say that I’d want the ability to fly.  Think about it.  What is more impressive than flying?  Being invisible?  Yea, it’s really easy to impress people with your superpower when they can’t even see you.  How about being invincible?  Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you can't feel pain, which would suck.  And don’t even get me started on slinging webs from my wrists.  I live in a suburb:  lots of good that superpower will do me without any big buildings.

Yesterday, though, my wish of flying was finally granted.  You see, ever since we went to Crete there’s been a group of girls who’ve wanted to go bungee jumping.  Two of them skipped out on the Crete trip just so they could go jump off a bridge instead, but ended up having their plans ruined by inclement weather.  They tried to go again on Saturday, but found out at the last minute that the place was closed.  They decided that if they didn’t go on Sunday, it wasn’t meant to be.  And that’s where I come in.

I’m always on the look out for interesting things to do on this trip for two reasons:

1. To entertain myself because normally our downtime is spent playing cards, watching movies, or eating 1.80 euro gyros.
2. To try and find some experience that I can fill a blog post with (you’re all welcome for this one).

So, after I found out on Saturday night that the girls still hadn’t gone bungee jumping after their second attempt, I decided to join in.  Third time’s a charm, right?  Well, it kind of is.

On Sunday we woke early and departed from our apartments at 10:45 AM so we could catch the changing of the guards at Parliament (basically a mini parade of soldiers and a band) and then catch the bus down to the Corinth Canal where the bungee jumping place is.  We took the subway to a bus stop, took that bus to the bus station, and got in line to purchase tickets to Corinth, which is another hour away.  At this point we decided it would be a good idea to call the bungee jumping place one last time just to make sure they were open.  Of course, they didn’t pick up.  We tried three more times.  Still no answer.

Now we were getting a little angry and had no idea what to do.  If we got on the bus and the bungee jump place was closed, that would be 15 euros down the hole.  So, we walked over to the information desk and asked the lady if she could check anything out for us.  She, too, was of little to no help.  Without wanting to risk losing money on a pointless trip, we decided to go back home.

When we got back (now at 12:00), we were pretty down on our luck.  It was starting to feel like maybe this was a sign that we shouldn’t ever go bungee jumping.  But, with one last-ditch effort, we figured out a cell phone number for one of the workers and gave it a try.  What do you know, they picked up!  Better yet, they told us they were open until 6 and would wait for us to get there.  Gametime!

We went through the whole process again, this time in more of a hurry.  We walked past the information desk at the bus station, planning to give the lady a piece of our minds, but saw that there was a new lady working there (the other one must have promptly been disposed of for her lack of knowledge).  After an hour of riding the bus in nervous anticipation, we had arrived at the Corinth Canal.

The bungee jump place looked like a beach cabana hangout.  The workers were all relaxing, making it seem as if going bungee jumping was just another Sunday.  We strapped ourselves up, paid way too much (but what’s money in the long run, eh?), and made our way across the bridge.  This was about the time that it hit me.

I’m normally not much of a nervous guy, but getting out on a small platform in the middle of a canal and knowing that I would soon be leaving it was a feeling I hadn’t experienced before.  80 meters down (262 feet, or for those of you who need a visual example, 55 feet taller than Wild Thing at Valleyfair) was the water, surrounded by sheer cliff sides.  It was a pretty cool location, but I wasn’t really admiring it right then.  Did I mention that I was first in line?

After adjusting the rope to my weight, they called me onto the jumping area and attached the rope.  A cameraman who was filming the DVD for us got in my face and asked me how I was feeling, to which I could only respond “I’m not sure why I’m doing this, but here goes.”

Once I was strapped in, the two helpers led me over to the ledge and hooked up the last couple attachments.  I looked down and saw the impending drop ahead of me.  My mind swirled with vertigo as I started imagining the feeling of dropping that lay ahead of me.  As the woman at the front desk had told us, “bungee jumping is not a physical problem, but merely a mental one.”  Hmm, yes.  Quite.

The workers finally had me all strapped after giving me ample time to ponder my fate.  I was told that I would be given a count down from 5, after which I had to jump.  If I didn’t jump within 1 minute of the countdown ending, I would be pulled off the ledge and wouldn’t receive a refund.  That was the point of no return for me.  I stretched out my arms and awaited the countdown.

5…4…3…2…1…JUMP!

With a leapfrog-style jump outwards from the platform, I was off. The drop was so sudden that I couldn’t even let out a scream.  For the first half of the jump, the rope was still dropping with me without any tug, making this the equivalent of a free fall.  But after what seemed like an eternity, I began to turn face down, the rope started to catch, and I knew I was safe.  When the rope finally caught, all the air inside me was released with a loud yell of approval and I was flung back upwards towards the bridge.  I turned over in midair and pumped my fists, leading to applause from the people above before I plummeted back down again.  On the second rebound, I was able to control my body and turned to face the bridge again, flexing and screaming as I did so.  The feeling I had inside was one of sheer joy.

After bouncing around for a minute, I finally came to enough of a halt that I could release my feet from the bungee cord and sit right side up.  I was given a minute to sit and contemplate as a second rope was slowly dropped down to me that would pull me back to the bridge.  It was only then, sitting halfway between the bridge and the water, that I truly admired my time here in Greece.  This was something I would’ve never done had I been bored at St. John’s.  I mean, who jumps off a perfectly good bridge?  I thought of the sensation that I had just felt, and knew that my wish of flying had been momentarily granted.  Or maybe it was just falling with style.  You can decide for yourselves.

The rest of the day was spent smiling for more than any day I can remember.  All I could think about was that feeling.  We talked about how we could ever top that experience, and how good it felt to feel like we could do anything.  All I know is if anyone ever asks me, “If he jumped off a bridge, would you?”  I can answer with, “No…I’d jump first.”

Overall, the whole weekend was pretty awesome.  The Twins made it into a playoff, getting to play at least one more game at the Homer Dome (which I recently found out is now called Mall of America Field at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome).  And better yet, the Johnnies won their homecoming game in dramatic fashion, coming back from 14 down in the fourth quarter and winning.  Woo hoo!

Also, in case you still don’t understand the “Buzzed” part of this post’s title, it’s because I buzzed my hair down to a half-inch for the first time since I was in grade school.  So now you’re all Chasers to a 10-year old with a receding hairline!  Woo hoo again!

In other news, Saturday night was spent waking up the echoes of the old Olympic Stadium outside of CYA.  Though we technically aren’t allowed to go into the beautiful Marble Stadium, we found a way inside when no guards were around.  We ran up the large stairs, admired the marble seats, and eventually decided to race where only the Olympians had.  The track is an old design, so the turns are only 25 meters long, which made me think that it was probably only a 200-meter track.  Wrong.  After unleashing my ungodly speed for half a lap, I realized that I should probably slow down before I pull a hammy and finished with a slower, but still respectable 400-meter time.  Need I say that I won?  Somewhere above, Zeus smiled.

Finally, I invite all of you Chasers to feel free to comment on the bottom of each blog.  As I’ve said before, my ego is unnaturally large, and if you could please feed it that would be wonderful because it’s hungry.

Special Shout-out of the Day:  Ashley Aggen, Melissa Kirchner, and Brittany Vaplon.  Without these girls, I wouldn't have a blog to write about today because I wouldn't have gone bungee jumping.  Thanks for finding interesting things to do around here without me needing to do any work!

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 3

Matt: 1

Ryan: 2

Nothing more from this post, but if that information lady had still been at the bus station, I’m sure I would’ve put up another point.

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves