The Plaka is a colorful and pleasant area of many sidewalk cafes and tourist shops, medieval buildings, churches and ancient ruins. As we strolled along we were solicited by the restaurant hucksters at every turn. The shopkeepers called out, "Hello, Lady", trying to get us to stop as did the African boys sitting on the pavement with their boards of goods, knockoff Gucci purses, fake Rolex watches, sunglasses and reforming tomatoes (red jelly balls with eyes and a green topknot that you splat on a hard surface and then they reform into a ball again). They all tried to entice us to buy, but Don told them all that we were on a mission to get to the changing of the guard and they seemed to accept that.
We crossed the busy Amelias Avenue and proceeded to the front of the Parliament building. There the hunky Greek guards, dressed in their short, white, pleatedskirts, white tights and shiny black shoes with huge pompoms attached to the toes, were standing at attention while tourists stood next to them for photos and the odd lady fed droves of pigeons.
Pretty soon, marching along the walkway, came the guard replacement team. Three soldiers high-stepped along, loudly slapping their 'tsarouchi' shoes, then sticking out a white-stockinged leg at a right angle from their body, bending their knee at a right angle and slapping down their shoe before raising the next leg to repeat the process.
The soldiers selected for this duty are all big, strapping boys, at least 6'3" tall, handsome and muscular. They marched along, making a smart left turn to approach the raised platform which houses the Tomb of the Unknown Solider in front of the Parliament Building. Then an officer in cammo marched up and inspected each costumed soldier, untangling their tassel and shining a button here and there, and saying something secret to each one. Then the soldiers who were going off shift did their special march away from their posts and back towards the wall and the new duo marched up the steps and diagonally over to the other soldiers. Eventually the very structured process was completed and the relieved soldiers kick-marched their way out of the area and the new men took their posts, to stand at attention for the next hour, rigid and unsmiling as the tourists ran up to take photos and try to get them to smile. The three-man guard team, dressed in cammo kept them safe, preventing tourists from touching the guardsmen or distracting or hurting them in any way.After the ceremony we returned across the street and back into the Plaka for lunch. I had a chicken and spinach dish and Don had sausage and pasta.
From the Plaka we meandered along the ancient roads to the famous flea market, the Monistraki. The big market is on Sunday, and since today is Saturday, we won't see that, but really, there was plenty to see. As we entered the plaza a fellow was calling out, Strawberries, one kilo for one Euro. The berries were beautiful and ripe, piled high in a huge mound on his cart. Dangling from the sides and roof of his cart were nice banana and bordering the strawberry mound were oranges and other fruits. It was all so colorful and appealing. I bought a kilo of berries and a bunch of bananas, all for $3.
We strolled through the bazaar, looking at the furniture, clothing, purses, jewelry, shoes, junque, and tchatchkes. Even though it is Saturday, there is plenty to see and buy. We finally made it to the other end of the bazaar, and headed up the hill along the Acropolis, and back to our car.
Don scooted us out of town and back to our nice home in the burbs. He has the route down pat now, but we still program Trexie just to keep us out of trouble.Another great day in Greece.
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