9/30/2000 -- Rhodos, Greece
Sept 30th 1756pm
Hotel Oceanis, Room 248
Its Sunday night here in Greece, and the air is a warm reminder of the ancient mid orient culture which we are now in. We arrived to the small Island of Rhodos on a late Thursday night after significant delays departing Italy. Unable to get clearance to fly into Turkey, we decided to press on to the Greek Isles.
For our flight plan to Rhodos, we file 3 hrs prior to departure, preflight the aircraft, double check all systems and call ground control for an engine pre-start clearance. Chiampino tower announces that they don’t have our flight plan. Twenty long blistering minutes go by as we sit under the Mediterranean Sun for further news only to discover that Greece didn’t accept our flight plan. We get a ride to the air-center on the opposite side of the airport and discover that we need re-routing around Athens control airspace. With their help we file a new flight plan, get the latest weather, and start our engines, now 1hr behind schedule. With the sun setting over the horizon, I decide to continue the flight and revise our estimated time of arrival to Greece to be 930pm.
We depart Chiampino and head into the inland skies of a cloudy and stormy Italian evening. Our flight path takes us over the tall peaks in center Italy at an altitude of 12,000 feet where frozen air begins to take it’s toll on the aircraft. Climbing higher and higher, the air becomes only colder and colder and the constant rain immediately turns to snow and ice. With our weather scope giving sporadic readings of storm congestion and location, we decide to continue the flight. Only a few minutes go by and I can hear the ice beating our aluminum craft like a snare drum. I see the left engine glazed over with ice, beginning to obstruct the air intakes. As we know, an engine requires fuel and air to function and without either, our dream will have to find a new home amidst the frozen and cloudy peaks below us.
On a scratchy radio with turbulence shaking the aircraft sporadically, I plead with Rome for a lower altitude hoping to find just one additional degree of warmth. The calm man behind the microphone on the other end reminds me of the hidden peaks lying hidden among the clouds, and suggests an altitude of 10,000ft momentarily. We immediately start down and somewhere around 10,500ft the ice and snow turns magically to rain and the ice begins to breaks off in sheets as Dreamcatcher begins to fly again now free from the grasp of cold man winter.
We continue the flight through Italy as clouds begin to break up over the Adriatic Sea into a splendiferous (I don’t know if that’s a word, but it should be) vista of moonlight, stars and a few stray clouds. We flew through the night and with the lights in the cabin dimmed we could look straight above into the sky and for that instant, we were kings-- flying through a dream somewhere between heaven and earth, pinching ourselves as we wondered if this was really happening.
Just looking up at the Mediterranean canopy of stars, one can come to understand how ancient cultures theorized the God’s revealed their presence as constellations.
Below us lies the Island of Santorini known in Greece as Thiara. On and around this island is believed to be the magical Lost City of Atlantis. Tonight, the city lights of the island reflect off the turquoise water and create a euphoric glow between us and the island and as we fly into the night we can only envision the undiscovered islands Odysseus must have visited traveling the high seas, using only the same stars to navigate the open waters. And here we stand, some several thousand years later, traveling the same seas, looking up at those ancient stars which appear each night—humbly lost among them as our man made satellites of GPS guide us home.
MEDICATION DOESN’T REMEDY ALL FORMS OF GAS
The island of Rhodos is only 300km large by perimeter. Just walking down the old streets and peaking in the old vendors shops we could see that different parts of the island had so much to offer, ranging from beautiful tourist coastline, ancient Olympic stadiums, medieval castles, whitewashed churches with round blue roofs and open countryside.
As one might imagine, some things never go as planned. We arrived to the island late on Thursday and after clearing customs, and procedural paperwork with the Greek Airport Authority, we head to the airport terminal to get a taxicab to the hotel. We find out that all the Taxi’s are on strike protesting the continued increase in gas prices throughout the EU. What had started, as a steady increase in petrol (gas) prices had now become an increasing problem for the world and Europe truckers, beginning in England. In rebellion to the continued gas prices, truckers are currently striking throughout Europe and now in the Greek Isles, where tourism is the heart of the economy, movement has been immobilized by the lack of petrol. We were informed that there was not one gas station on the island selling petrol and the harbor was barricaded against ships bringing in food, supplies and petrol to the island. Without a taxi and with 7km to walk with all our gear we decided to get an early start. Around 2am we stop for water at a local pizza shop, which stays open late and for $15USD, we get a lift to our hotel. Our heads hit the pillow just as the sun was rising and our first night’s sleep in Greece turned out to be a very long one.
The very next day in search of transportation we attempt to rent a car or a moped to see the island in it’s entirety. With no petrol on the island, all agencies were unwilling to rent vehicles for fear of abandonment. We asked locals how long the the taxi strike and the shortage of petrol were expected to last only to be answered by a reluctant shrug of the shoulders, “Who knows, better sometimes not know, yes?”
On our third day in Rhodos a friend of the owner of the hotel dropped us off in the Old City of Rhodos. After visiting the old city, Greek ruins, and some 30km from the hotel, we quickly begin to look for a taxi or some form of transportation back to the hotel. A long half-hour goes by and not a taxi in sight, so we begin to walk down the street in search of any form of mobile transportation. We come up to a line of over 100 people all lined up along an old wall around a street circle. There was a man directing people to vehicles as taxis were lining up to pick up people. As we watched the makeshift operation happen, we saw what was really happening. Each taxi was allotted 20litres or 5 gallons of gas for the entire week. With such little gas, the taxis only left the circle completely full. One or two people would be placed in a taxi and the other seats would then be filled by others in line going in the same direction. On a hot afternoon anonymous against the wall, it was amazing to see how the makeshift operation maximized the utility of every last drop of petrol on the island. Couples going to the same hotel would be separated and placed in different taxis headed in the same general direction, and hopefully arrive at the same destination via separate routes, drivers and other people on board. It was amazing to see how the people of such a small island in the middle of a vast sea could come together, locals and tourists, and with no petrol to power the common luxuries we so often take for granted, bind together and make the best of the situation.
I guess sometimes it’s not always the distinction of accomplishment that commands attention, but rather, the tales of how we arrive at our destination that become the greatest lesson.
The Old Town of Rhodos
We entered Ancient Rhodos on a lazy Monday morning unknown what to expect and what might lie inside the old walls protecting the once ancient city. As we walked through the old streets, the paved cobblestone beneath our feet and crumbling bricks making up walls the medieval times came to life on that crisp morning.
Arched doorways and hidden alleyways, which used to house vendors of fresh fruits, bread, and goodies, remain forever empty except for a random moped or tourist shop. Hanging plants still cover most of the windows, while overlooking the desolate cobblestone streets.
A few left turns and a right turn find us on the main street, called The Street of Knights where the knights of the castle used to live. Tall wooden doors open to small rooms, stone staircases, and small porches overlooking each other. Adjacent to the street lies the main tourist attraction—a busy street probably a quarter of a mile long lined with a multitude of shops, cafes, and restaurants on either end.
On this street one can buy anything from a traditional Middle East “blue eye,” a T-bone steak or even a fur coat for the traveling tourist. Outside of the shops, storeowners sit vigilant on small chairs proud of the hand-made trinkets or goods hidden inside of their store not much bigger than a public bathroom. At the top of the hill is the typical ancient castle prominent with towers, moat and robust walls. Because the old city overlooks the harbor, a stronghold on both sides of the harbor overlooks all incoming ships and where there once stood cannons pointed at sea now is a small outside restaurant with untouched chairs and tables perched upon themselves. A few feet away, an old cat lies sung to sleep by the sound of the waves crashing only a few feet away.
Most of the city now lays quiet and the deadly harbor once safeguarded by cannons is now occupy seasonal ferryboats and cruise liners surrounded by a kaleidoscope of small fishing boats gently bobbing in the surf.
