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Down the cliff, a night-lit city spread before us. Above in the star-studded sky, bats swept through the spotlights. Within, there were only three of us, travelers raiding a silent fortress. We crept about the shadows, discovering the silence of an overcome fortress, and when daylight rose, we left toward a theatre; one of the largest, most grandiose and well preserved of the antiquities. Upon the very top of its limestone steps, the singular pluck of a violin reached our ears soundly while various tongues bellowed in a one-minute fame of limelight.

Beheld By Rebellious Mythos: The Peloponnese

Camron Karsten
2006-10-07 12:45:57

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where I met two companions.
“Nafplio?” I asked.
They nodded, yet I already knew.
Her name was Jenny from White Salmon, Washington. She was traveling with Josh; a brother and sister duo. Previously, I had only met her. They stayed at the hostel back where I loaded my three mornings’ filling of carbohydrates and sugar, and it was there Nafplio in the Pelopennese
I learned of her and her brother’s journey southward into the Peloponnese after three nights in Athens. Likewise, my two nights and three days had laid out the city like the back of my hand. I was ready to move on. The city of Nafplio with hourly bus departures from Terminal A sounded like a pleasing option.
Crossing the Corinthian Canal into the Peloponnese, the countryside spread wide. Buildings disappeared. The air cleansed into an original blue. Asphalt became less prevalent. Roads turned to dirt. It was the idyllic Grecian bucolic setting where gentle hills rose up and down. Few were patterned with wine vines while the others were consumed by the region’s olive and citrus groves. Slowly, the bus came upon the minor peninsular town of Nafplio.
Having been Greece’s first capital after its independence, Nafplio is a preserved town of Venetian homes and quaint shops leading to a quayside boardwalk painted with the elegance of modern furnishing cafes. Though the years have been graceful. It was 1827 when Nafplio reached its height as capital, and seven years later when the Prince of Bavaria, 17 year-old Otto, moved it to Athens in 1834. So one could say Nafplio was spared, given over to the boutique industry, café dwindling and a small layout of Venetian homes and mansions of the neoclassical era. All lay quietly beneath the mighty Palamidi Fortress and the lesser impressive Akronafplia Fortress. From our room, Jenny, Josh and I set upon the town like a crafty wind sent to pirating thieves with eyes emblazoned on a child’s cookie jar.

Given Over to the Throne
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