Greek drama

Volante
On his maiden voyage to the heart of antiquity, George Rush witnesses first-hand the collision of ancient and modern cultures
Photographed by the author

The Temple of Hephæstus. Pillared structure at left of image, surrounded by trees.
Above, from top: The Temple of Hephæstus. The Caryatid porch of the Erechtheion, at the Acropolis. Owl from the Odeon of Perikles. Braided tresses of caryatid, Acropolis Museum. Descending on the Lycabettus Hill funicular.

Arriving in Athens for my first foray into Greece, I was glad to see the smoke from the recent wildfires in Marathon had cleared. But the sky was still ablaze. Helios’s chariot was pushing temperatures toward 38°C, prompting guardians of the Acropolis to bar tourists till 5 p.m. When I finally got in, the Parthenon stood unwilted, even grander than it looked in kitschy colour photos found in New York City’s ubiquitous Greek diners. Most of its marble deities—the ones the Earl of Elgin hadn’t filched—now dwelt in the city’s fantastic museums, alongside exquisite funerary monuments chiselled before Cleisthenes, father of Greek democracy, prohibited Athens’ competitive super-rich from extravagantly commemorating themselves in stone.

After a few days in Athens, I laid siege to the Peloponnese. Flanked by my long-time travelling compadre, Terry Ward, we obliterated 4,000 years of civilization in two days. Aided by Henry Miller’s The Colossus of Maroussi, we conquered the citadels of Tiryns, Argos, Mycenæ, and the Palamidi Fortress of Nafplio, among other dens of antiquity. For entertainment, I recommend the amphitheatre of Epidaurus, where thousands came to see a chorus of 50 actresses perform The Suppliants, written by a red-hot new playwright named Æschylus.

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The Temple of Zeus at Nemea, surviving from antiquity, on a sunny day. Tomb of Agamemnon, Mycenæ. Image shows a very tall walled structure. The Lion Gate at Mycenæ, with two lions carved into stone. Epidaurus Amphitheatre, with only a few visitors seated.
Above, from top: The Temple of Zeus at Nemea. Tomb of Agamemnon, Mycenæ. The Lion Gate at Mycenæ. Passage to cistern at Mycenæ. Epidaurus Amphitheatre.

Then it was on to Hydra: a rocky island ruled by lazy cats. All wheeled vehicles are banned, so mules and donkeys serve as bellhops. Most of the shopping, dining, and people-ogling occur around a snug port. There are a few bars and clubs, but nothing like throbbing Mykonos or Corfu. That may be why National Geographic Traveler anointed it Greece’s top isle for ‘integrity of place’. Climb upward and you’ll have the pleasure of getting lost in a maze of 19th-century mansions built by the seafaring heroes of Greece’s independence. Climb a little higher and you’ll reach the Monastery of the Prophet Elias, where the view made me briefly reconsider the priesthood. The holy retreat looks down upon the pines that survived a June fire which destroyed almost 3,000 acres of forest. Authorities have linked the inferno to fireworks shot from the superyacht of a Kazakh oligarch.

In the 1950s and ’60s, Greek painters like Nikos Ghikas and Panagiotis Tetsis and expats like Patrick Leigh Fermor and Leonard Cohen made Hydra, then down-at-the-heel, a bohemian destination. More recently, Brice Marden, Matthew Barney, and Kara Walker are among the contemporary sirens who’ve lured the Art Basel crowd to its pebbly beaches. During my week there, irritable pieces by George Condo were on display at the Deste Foundation’s Slaughterhouse, a former abattoir now crowned by Koons’s Apollo Windspinne sculpture. The twirling rays of his drowsy sun slice the light like daggers. The cliffside gallery is the creation of iconoclastic Cypriot billionaire Dakis Joannou. His 114 ft yacht, Guilty, gaily decorated by Koons, was moored in the harbour. Despite his world renowned art collection, Joannou calls himself an ‘anti-collector’, insisting that he lives to share his treasures with the public. Hmm—would Cleisthenes have allowed that? •

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A yacht moored in the bay, sun setting behind it. A young boy sits on a wall in the foreground. A bright blue door. Two monks with three donkeys. Garish-painted yacht, called Guilty. Church with bay behind it. Elaborate ceiling in church with a figure of Jesus Christ. Fish being weighed on scales, at 800 g. A cat stretching on a wall with a bust of a naval hero to the left. People sitting at tables high above the water, looking out at the view. Others are down below in a flat area amongst the rocks.
At Hydra: George Condo’s irritating paintings at Slaughterhouse. Yacht at sunset. A typical azure door. Monks return home on their donkeys. Dakis Joannou’s yacht Guilty. Church of Panagia. Ceiling above the altar, Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Fish lunch at Taverna Marina. Languid cat meets naval hero. Total immersion: sunset cocktails and a dip.

Greco roamin’

George Rush’s insider tips for Hydra’s attractions, expeditions, libations and lodgings

Hydra is made for easy living but there are some places worth getting off your beach towel. The Historical Archives Museum and the Lazaros Koundouriotis Mansion feature heritage treasures, as well as artwork by Hydra’s modern masters. The 17th-century Faneromeni monastery and cathedral shelters holy objects like a silver icon of the Virgin Mary, miraculously recovered from Barbary pirates. See one of the classic films shot on Hydra at the outdoor cinema off the main quay on Ikonomou.
Nearby beaches and plunge platforms include Spilia and Hydronetta, where smart bars specialize in sundown cocktails and full-moon parties. A gorgeous coastal stroll will take you to Vlichos (lunch at the venerable Marina Taverna) and posher Plakes (book ahead for its Four Seasons restaurant). To the east is Mandraki (try Lefteraki’s Taverna). Water taxis can get you to less-peopled coves, including Bisti Bay and Agios Nikolaos Bay.
Time-tested bars include Pirate (highly intelligent DJing) and 1821 Hydra (a hotbed of scene-makers). You’ll find elevated dining at Oraia Hydra, La Casta, Psarapoula, and Téchnē. For traditional fare, Douskos is the landmark taverna where Leonard Cohen serenaded Marianne Ihlen beneath an ancient tree. The Greek word for wine is cresi; it’s not to be confused with the famous resinous-tasting wine called retsina, an acquired taste. The famous highly-alcoholic milky anis-tasting aperitif called ouzo compares to what the French call pastis.
Four-star lodging includes Cotommatæ (a restored mansion) and Bratsera (a former sponge factory). Family-owned Amaryllis is a wonderful value—quiet, yet steps from the action.

George Rush has contributed pieces to Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, Esquire, The Wall Street Journal, Condé Nast Traveler, Men’s Journal, Departures, Travel & Leisure, and Spy, among others. He is a guest contributor to Lucire.

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