Athens, Greece - The Acropolis

Athens. What would this day in this ancient city hold for us? We were up early, ate breakfast one more time on the Lido deck, and then waited for our disembarkation group to be called. The night before we had gone through the ritual of packing suitcases and setting them out in the hall for the crew to collect. They would magically appear again somewhere in the cruise terminal as we exited.

Our flight to Santorini where we were to spend four days was scheduled to leave at 7:30 p.m. so we had a whole day in Athens and had made plans with a tour agency who had a tour specially designed for cruisers coming into port with a late flight out of the airport. A note of explanation: the Athens airport is almost an hour drive out of the city so there is no quick trip to the airport to check bags and then into the city to explore. The tour, by Athens Tour Greece, allowed us a private car (actually it was a very nice Mercedes taxi) and a driver who not only was our guide but stayed with our luggage stowed in the trunk which meant I didn't have to lug my laptop in my backpack the whole day.

John, our driver/guide, met us at the appointed time just outside the exit from the cruise terminal. We loaded luggage quickly as he was eager to get ahead of the tour buses at the Acropolis. Like Istanbul, you don't get anywhere too quickly in Athens due to the traffic. In a sense that was good because John was a wealth of information about the history of Athens and began to set the scene for what we were to see.

Looking back through the Propylaea after entering.

We arrived at the Acropolis just a minute ahead of the tour groups which allowed us to scramble to the ticket booth, buy our entry pass (12 Euros that gets you into all the historical sites in the area) and start the climb to the top while the tour guides were still organizing their groups. I can't say I enjoyed the climb and once we stopped at the top, it was hard to catch my breath mainly because I stood in awe of the sight before me.

Through the entrance, the Propylaea (the monumental gateway), we could see the Parthenon standing before us. The Propylaea was constructed in the 5th century BC. There were rooms to the left and right. It was said that those entering there needed to be ritually clean before going on to the temples and this I guess was a place of inspection to weed out the miscreants and runaway slaves who, if allowed to enter, could claim protection of the gods. The treasury was also here so that made another reason to bolster security.

The walls of the north wing had been decorated with with frescoes and was known as the Pinakotheke or Art Gallery. To the south of the main gate, had been erected a temple for Athena Nike and dated back to about 420 BC.

Upon passing through the gate, we left our guide map in our pocket. The Parthenon was just so breathtaking that we could not look at anything else until we got our fill of it. We circled around to the other side of it that is more fully restored and away from the scaffolding where work was being done. John had told us that the marble used in the building of the temple to Athena Parthenos (Athena the Virgin) takes on various shades of color throughout the day as the rays of the sun pass over it.

Erechtheion

This was one of those pinch-me moments. How many times had I seen pictures of this and now I was standing here taking my own. Once we got past our feelings of awe, we began to look at our guide map and try to pick out other parts of the Acropolis but not before reading that the Parthenon was built and dedicated to the goddess Athena in thanks for the protection of the city during the Persian Wars. The construction was done between 447-432 BC.

Odeum of Herodes Atticus

We had walked past another building in our eagerness to take in all we could of the Parthenon, the Erechtheion which was built around 420 BC on the north side of the flat topped summit. It housed earlier cults. On the south side of the building is a porch supported by six figures of maidens called the Caryatids. The temple served for the worship of both Athena and Poseidon. At this point, I was wishing I had studied my Greek mythology a little more before coming. John's explanations were good but I kind of got lost in it. Too much information--not enough brain cells.

As we wandered, we tried to match what we saw with the map we'd been given. Were I to go again, I would do a little more research and learn more about what I was seeing. To one side of the Acropolis, you can look down and see two theaters. One, the Odeum of Herodes Atticus, is still being used and we could see modern equipment set up for a production. The other, the Theater of Dionysus, though larger didn't appear to be of use for our modern day purposes. For some reason, I only got a photo of the Odeum. Ah well, we have to go back.

The temperature was rising and our allotted time was almost up so we began our way to the exit. As we came through the gate and down the steps, it was obvious why John had wanted to get us there as quickly as possible. This last picture is what the brochures don't show you. The tour buses had arrived.

Wordless Wednesday

Through My Lens - Kusadasi, Turkey

Olives

Port of Call - Kusadasi, Turkey

Our last port of call for our Black Sea cruise was Kusadasi, Turkey, actually at the eastern end of the Mediterranean on the Aegean Sea. This would be our second time to visit the port city whose major attraction is the ancient ruins of Ephesus. We opted not to do the excursion to Ephesus choosing instead to wander through the city a bit and take in the local atmosphere. We had a wonderful time!

The port area is full of shops so matter which way you turn. We started out going to our right and wandered a bit through what our map said was the Orient Bazaar. Back in front of the pier, we passed the large Hotel Caravanserail built by Okuz Mehmet Pasha in 1618. At first I thought it was some kind of fortress but actually a caravanserail is a large structure capable of accommodating a large number of travelers, their animals and goods. We peeked into the courtyard. It looked very sophisticated and sans any camels or mules.
 
On the other side of the hotel was a pedestrian area that led back into the depths of another bazaar area with lots of shops and restaurants. At each stop in Turkey, we had noticed men, mostly shopkeepers, passing through the street with a

silver tray suspended on three chains that attached to a handle. On the tray was always a small glass of Turkish tea and some small delicacy. Bob decided he wanted to try the Turkish tea so we stopped at a corner cafe and ordered a Turkish tea for him and an apple tea for me. They came in small glasses with a pinwheel cookie on the side that had melty chocolate in the middle. My tea was almost like warm apple cider and Bob's was more a stronger black tea but both were very enjoyable. I was tempted to ask for seconds on the apple tea.

Knowing we had a birthday celebration to attend immediately upon our return home, we went shopping for an appropriate gift. We were drawn to some ornately designed tea kettles that were copper with inlaid mosaics adding a decorative touch. In one of the shops, we interrupted the shopkeeper's breakfast with our entrance but he was happy to instruct us on how precious the copper was and how his were not fakes. We decided on a little covered jar as the kettles were out of our price range and he didn't appear to be bringing it anywhere near what we would agree to pay. We gave him the Turkish lira, two bills, and he immediately dropped them on the floor explaining that we were his first customers and this would bring him good luck for the day. The he picked them up and brushed his cheeks with the money and thanked us for the business adding, "You know we are not barbarians. . .well, except for when the Ottomans were."

We bid him a good day and went our way, a smile on our faces. Those are the encounters that make a trip memorable.

Our mission accomplished, we started back for the ship. In the small square before the pier and next to the big hotel, we paused to wonder at several birdhouses that were there for the pigeons of the city. We would learn later that they were a symbol of sorts for the city.

After lunch on the Lido deck, we decided to venture out again and visit Pigeon Island which sit out in the middle of the harbor to the west of the pier. There is a long walkway that has been built to it and it didn't look too terribly far to walk. Our information said it was a rookery for marine birds although we didn't notice many once we were there and walking around.

On Pigeon Island there is a large structure called the Pirate Castle which was used in it's day to fight against the pirates. It's past also included the use by the Ottomans for military defense. Further research revealed that the island actually lent its name to the city. Originally the island was called Kusadasi which means Bird Island. Once the city took the name, the island became Pigeon Island. I think that tidbit might explain why the pigeons were given housing in the port.

The island had trails that led through and around the castle and had lovely olive trees as well as what I would call prayer trees. We've seen this in places before--the home of St. Mary, a temple in Japan, and now here. I don't know why the trees in this certain area had bits of paper tied to them but I'm guessing it was some kind of prayer or wish attached to each one. In other places, we learned that when the paper finally eroded away, the wish/prayer would be granted.

Olive trees dotted the park area with their small lacy foliage giving shade to the paths. The trees are always fascinating to me perhaps because of their scriptural connections.

We took our time going back to the ship. The temperature had climbed and we didn't want to overheat. Four large cruise ships gleamed in the harbor. I thought of all those people crowding into Ephesus and decided I was glad we'd spent our time exploring on our own and getting to meet some of the people of Kusadasi.

Cruising the Bosporus

The morning after our port stop in Varna, Bulgaria, we were up early so as not to miss the Bosporus Strait a second time. When we left Istanbul the week before, it was late at night and we were too tired to stay awake for the short sail up the 20 mile long Bosporus to the Black Sea. This was a much better day for it anyway since the sun was coming up and there would be some morning daylight to see the sights.

The Bosporus connects the Black Sea with the Sea of Maramara and Istanbul sits right where it meets the Sea of Maramara. We were already entering the Bosporus when we got out of bed and headed up to the Lido deck for breakfast, camera in hand.

Our travel guide on board ship narrated as we traveled past expensive old summer homes, castles, palaces, and fortifications. It was hard to pick out some of the buildings he spoke about since he was seeing them from the front of the ship and we were looking at them at the back of the ship. A few pictures of what to look for would have been nice.

The one unmistakable landmark was Rumeli Hisari Fortress. It is a huge fortress that upon more research I found is even bigger than it appeared from the water. It is at the narrowest part of the Bosporus. Obviously a a strategic spot for what Sultan Mehmet had in mind for conquering Constantinople (Istanbul). His generals were in charge of building the various parts of the fortress and each was pitted against the other for who would finish first. The fortress is open to the public and is on my list for our next stop in Istanbul. There are also lots of ways to cruise the Bosporus and see the area's sights by ferry boat and/or special tours.

There were two bridges we needed to pass under. Since we were headed to Istanbul, the first bridge was actually the second--named Fatih Sultan Mehmet after the conqueror who ended Byzantine rule. The bridge just before entering the Istanbul harbor is just called the Bosporus Bridge. It connects the European side with the Asian side of Istanbul.

Of course once we were past the last bridge and by passing the port, we could once again see the familiar skyline of the old part of Istanbul. This time though we knew what each of the building were. The Topkapi Palace stretched out along the shore. The Blue Mosque with its six minarets and of course, the magnificent Hagai Sophia.

As I watched Istanbul disappear in the distance, I knew that we would need to return. Another cruise, another time.

Books For The Road - Through My Eyes, Tim Tebow

Football fanatics take notice! This book is for you. In his memoir, Tim Tebow takes you through almost play by play action in many of his high school and college games. It was interesting although I must admit, I didn't need to relive the trouncing of Ohio State by the Florida Gators one more time.

Tebow and his co-writer, Nathan Whitaker, take you from his earliest beginnings when his mother chose not to abort her baby to the NFL draft. Along the way you learn about the influence of his faith and family that has shaped his character, the character that has garnered him praise and criticism both.

What you will enjoy from this read, aside from all the football action, is learning a bit more about what goes on behind the scenes, in the huddle (where do they come up with the naming of those plays and how do they remember them?), and in the pile of players on the field. Some of it may not be surprising to you. Some may be. All in all it's an engaging read--a book for the road, maybe as you travel to the next away game.

Wordless Wednesday

Varna, Bulgaria - The Walking Tour

We stood in front of the Cathedral of the Assumption in the center of Varna and watched for a sign that would show us where the free walking tour would begin. All of a sudden my eyes caught sight of a young gentleman standing on the steps with a "Free Varna Tour" sign held in front of him. With a sigh of relief, we walked over to him and were joined by quite a few others in the crowd milling about the Cathedral looking for the same sign.

Nicky began by giving us some background history to the Cathedral as well as Varna. He was very engaging and extremely knowledgeable as we learned as our tour went on. He led us into the Cathedral one more time. I was surprised to see that all the lights that had illuminated the sanctuary were now off. Apparently the tour buses were done for the morning. We walked around once again under the watchful eyes of the two ladies in charge of the picture takers and back out again.

Across the street, we stopped for a bit more history just as the sun began to break through. Varna looked much nicer in the sunshine. (I found that to be true in Venice as well). Before we moved on, a plain-clothed cop took Nicky aside and pulled out his badge. They spoke in their native language and when Nicky returned to the group, he told us that the police wanted to warn us of being approached by people who wanted to exchange money with you. Once you gave them the money, they would take it and either short change you or not give you money back. Those that we had met earlier who we thought were panhandling were actually scammers.

Roman bath

We started down the pedestrian was and passed by a museum and a beautiful red colored theater, one of several that were in the area. More people were now in the pedestrian way and now that the shops were open, the sun was out, and we were in a group, it didn't seem so intimidating.

There was less graffiti along the side streets we traveled to visit several small Armenian churches that were very old. Along the way we lost the group of students that had started out with us. I'm guessing there was more history than they wanted to hear. And there were a couple in our group who disagreed with some of the statements that Nicky made about past conflicts with other countries/groups of people and Communism. They weren't willing to let him have his opinion and they dropped out of the tour as well. He really wasn't political--just relaying the history as he'd learned it.

Probably the most interesting place was the huge area of remains unearthed of a Roman bath. It was quite a spa in its day and we heard how water was transported there and heated for the wealthy to enjoy.

In front of one of the churches, we came across a bulletin board of sorts with all kinds of leaflets with people's pictures on them. Nicky explained that instead of putting obituaries in a newspaper, family members posted them at the church or on trees or telephone poles through out the city in memory of them and as a way of letting others know they had passed.

As we paused in front of an old museum, Nicky stopped to talk about the Cyrillic alphabet used in Bulgaria. It was invented in the 10th century to write the old church Slavic language. It has evolved over the years and been adapted to use in over 50 different languages mainly in Russia, Eastern Europe, and Central Asia. The last word on the sign pictured is Varna.

Our wandering took us back to the port area. I hadn't realized that we weren't that far away. Near the port is beautiful Primorski Park with an outdoor Naval Museum and Aquarium. It sits on the shore next to the city beach. We walked through and stopped to look at some of the historical pieces of equipment and then continued back to another pedestrian area where Nicky ended his tour in front of the McDonald's. He pointed out the good shopping areas and how to get to the Cathedral for the shuttle or to walk back down to the ship. We thanked him, gave him some money for his time and set off to find something Bulgarian to eat.

There were lots of choices in this area just a ways from the park. We settled on one that said free WiFi and sat down. Our waiter spoke pretty good English and suggested we try a plate that was a Bulgarian sample. It was great! Sweet tomatoes with some kind of goat cheese, cucumbers and sour cream like my mother used to make (ours was Bohemian style), deep fried pork balls, and something that was like a quiche. It was all very good and we enjoyed each bite.

In the park I had noticed lots of ladies who had set up shop with all of their handcrafted and crocheted items. I don't normally get souvenirs, especially for myself, but I couldn't resist a small crocheted table scarf.

We made our purchase and strolled through the shaded park back to the port entrance to our ship. What had started out as a dreary and uncertain day had turned into a wonderful excursion and a great taste of Bulgaria.

Port of Call - Varna, Bulgaria

Perhaps it was the foggy start to the day that set the tone as we arrived in Varna, Bulgaria. We ate a leisurely breakfast on the back of the Lido deck looking out at the eerie images of navy ships behind us muted and grayed even more by the mist that hung in the air. There wasn't exactly a scheduled tour or excursion that we chose for Varna but I had found online a free walking tour that began at the cathedral at eleven in the morning.

A ride on the complementary shuttle bus into town took us through neighborhoods that were full of graffiti. Not a good first impression of the city. The drop for passengers was in front of the Cathedral of the Assumption. We were about an hour early for the tour and decided to wander around the Cathedral and try to get our bearings. The area around the cathedral was dotted with sleeping bodies.

Deciding to take a look inside the Cathedral, we wound our way around several people shaking cups at us asking for money. In all the ports we'd visited, this was the first where we'd been approached by beggars. Inside the cathedral the priest met us at the door. He had a little table set up with some pamphlets, a basket with money in it under a sign that said donations and a bowl of holy water. I didn't recognize the small branch of greenery in his hand but it soon became obvious when we slipped a little money in the basket that the branch was used along with the holy water for a blessing. Bob indicated we were passing on the blessing.

Inside the Cathedral which was built in the late 1800s it was rather dark but had a lot of mural paintings. Along one side of the sanctuary were several furnace or fireplace like boxes where candles that were lit could be vented to the outside. and the sand and water that they were set in were definitely a deterrent to unwanted fires.

A sign inside the front door prominently situated said there was a charge for taking pictures. And just to be sure you didn't forget, there were two ladies who looked like they could wrestle a picture-taker to the floor patrolled the area with hand held signs that announced the price for three pictures. They never broke a smile and stared down anyone who raised a camera. I think one man was going to feign not understanding but they got him and loudly protested in their own language. I think he forked over the money. (If you'd like to see pictures of the inside, take a look at this sight of the Varna Cathedral).

I wondered what it would be like during a worship service.

After sitting in a pew a bit and walking around the sanctuary which really wasn't all that large, we went back outside. There was still plenty of time left until our meeting time for the tour so we crossed the street (by way of a tunnel under the busy main street) and began a walk down the pedestrian plaza through town.

The sun was trying to break through but it still looked kind of bleak. There was just something about the area that made me uncomfortable and then we began to have individual men coming up to us every so often and saying in English, "Change." We thought they were asking for change although they didn't look like they were beggars. I clutched my camera bag a little tighter and was thankful Bob was wearing a money pouch inside his pants rather than a wallet in his back pocket. 

Shops were just beginning to open but there was still not much pedestrian traffic. Not like in other cities where we've seen outdoor cafes and people eating breakfast or grabbing one more cup of coffee. I really was wondering if I didn't just want to go back to the ship and skip the day in Varna. I am so glad I didn't. The sun broke through. The tour guide arrived. And soon we were thoroughly enjoying this unusual city.

Voting in Ancient Greece

While my posts about our visit to Athens will not appear for a couple of weeks yet, I wanted to share what we found in a museum in Athens in the ancient Agora. While our guide insisted that the Greeks were the first to use the vote for government, I'm sure that over the ages there was a system of selection for leaders that could be defined as voting. But I did think that their take on how to weed out political leaders in the ancient times was interesting.

Here's what the sign in the picture says:

Ostracism was a unique type of voting intended as a means of protecting the city against aspirants to despotic power. The result of the ostracism vote was valid only if there was a quorum of 6000 present. Each voter scratched or painted on a potsherd the name of the man he thought most undesirable. The "candidate" with the greatest number of votes against him was obliged to withdraw from Athens for ten years. Ostracism was decreed by Kleisthenes and was used through most of the 5th century B.C. In many cases it came to be used as a tactical manoeuvre between rival politicians.

That last line says it all. No matter what the system, politicians are politicians and will find a way around. Still, the freedom to vote, to have a choice in the system is precious. Don't forget to exercise that freedom on Tuesday.

Balaklava, Ukraine - The Submarine Pens

From Alupka where the palace is that was the place where Winston Churchill stayed during the Yalta Conference in 1945, we drove back toward Sevastopol and along the route where our guide had pointed out the valley where the famous charge of the Light Brigade took place. We pulled over and stopped at a monument that was on a rise looking over the large valley where it all happened.

On the day of the battle, October 25, 1854, Russian forces had installed themselves on hills surrounding the valley. Guns pointed into the valley from several directions. The Light Brigade, a British Calvary unit led by Lord Cardigan received orders from Lord Raglan, overall commander of the troops, to pursue and harry a retreating Russian unit. Somehow the orders were miscommunicated and the Light Brigade had the understanding that they were to forge ahead with a full frontal attack. They did so suffering extreme casualties but not without doing a bit of damage of their own to the Russians. The charge is immortalized in the Tennyson Poem. Here's the second verse:

Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

It is often called The Valley of Death but it looks very peaceful now. There are several grape vineyards and farms and what appears to be a little town. As we looked over the valley after our guide's very thorough recounting of the battle during the Crimean War, Bob and I decided we must have been out of history class when it was all discussed. We had no idea of what the Crimean War was all about but we were learning.

A little while later, we arrived in Balaklava just southeast of Sevastopol where we had begun so early in the morning. We were beginning to wear down a bit but our next place to explore was just too good to be missed--a secret Russian submarine base. Well, at least it was secret during the cold war.

Balaklava is a resort town nestled in a thin channel off the Black Sea. Tunnels were built into the mountain between 1957 - 1961 where Russian submarines could be stored and/or repaired. It was built to withstand nuclear attack and even built with saving the people of the town in mind. There was room for them to gather there should the need arise. Walls almost 10 feet thick would protect them from a 100 kiliton bomb. Doors weighed almost 10 tons and were designed to close out the effects of a nuclear blast. (As one in our group noted, all this while we were learning in school to crawl under our desks and hide our eyes from a nuclear blast.)

The base was active until 1993 when the decommissioning process began and warheads were removed. In 1996 the last Russian submarine left and in 2003 it became a museum.

It was an eerie walk through the tunnels having grown up with all of the Cold War fears and anxiety it created. Amazing to think of the operation that went on there as they repaired subs, replenished weapons and stocked more warheads.

Our guide was delighted to see that we had time to see one last thing on her list. "If you don't see the Panorama, you haven't seen Sevastopol," was her comment. I couldn't imagine what she meant. I was soon to find out although we came close to missing it.

When we arrived at the museum, a large white round building, and waited for the guide to get tickets, I noticed several men posted in a few spots who looked like stereotypical secret service men. Then suddenly from around the corner, several police in flap-jackets arrived with a huge German Shepard in tow who was already straining at his leash and sniffing everything in sight. Were we in the middle of a bomb scare?

The dog unit went inside and the guy in the dark suit spoke into his lapel. Now this was getting really crazy. As I turned to tell Bob something, I noticed over his shoulder at the edge of the woods another guy in a dark suit talking into his lapel. We had just finished hearing about the James Bond movie that was filmed in the submarine tunnels was I overreacting?

Our guide rattled some things off in her native tongue to the ticket takers at the gate and waved us through. She said we must hurry in because we would be the last visitors before the Prime Minister was to arrive with his guests. I breathed easier. The building was probably very secure by now.

The Panorama turned out to be a giant piece of artwork. It was like being in a Cinerama where the movie takes place all around you only this was a painting. But what a painting! It depicted one of the days of battle in Sevastopol during the Crimean War. The date was June 18, 1855. It was painted in such a way that it looked 3-D--without the glasses!

To view it, you walked up a flight of steps which put you into the painting as if you were on the hill where it was taking place. All around you was the battle painted on canvas walls but with a foreground of real props. The thing was, you couldn't tell where the prop ended and the painting began. It was that good. One wooden beam stretched from in front of us and into the painting and only with extremely careful observation could you tell where it ended and the painting began.

It truly was an experience. I would love to post pictures but there was quite a fee to be allowed to take any and I passed. Besides, a picture would never have done it justice. Our guide was right. It was the not-to-be-missed sight in Sevastopol.

Port of Call - Sevastopol, Ukraine

It was an early morning arrival to the port of Sevastopol and it was a good thing. We were expected to meet on the pier by 7:15 for a private tour arranged by one of our contacts on the Cruise Critic message boards. We grouped together just outside the gate to the cruise port and found our guide who led us to a nice mini-bus and we were off.

Word was out that excursions to the Livandia Palace, the former summer home of the Csars and the place where the 1945 Yalta Conference took place between Churchill, Stalin, and Roosevelt, would be canceled and/or changed to another place. Apparently there was a summit to be held there with representatives of the European Union and the area would be closed.

Along the way, we stopped for a photo op of the Church of Christ's Resurrection or the Foros Church (its near the town of Foros). It is perched on top of a 1200 foot sheer rock cliff and was built in 1892 in commemoration of the miraculous escape of Alexander III and his family from a train crash.

As we neared our alternate choice, the Alupka Palace, just a bit southwest of Yalta, our mini-bus was stopped by authorities and our driver had to pull out all his certifications to show one official as the other looked through the windows at us. Had to hand it to our guide though, she just kept talking through the whole thing as though nothing was happening. Satisfied that we were who we said we were, they let us continue on to the palace.

The palace was quite impressive from the start as we gathered in the outer courtyard and waited for our guide to purchase the tickets. Meanwhile some made a restroom stop after the guide shelled out some Ukrainian money for each who needed to use the facility. We Americans are so spoiled by free restrooms.

We made a short walk to the entrance of the palace glancing up at the huge granite-faced cliffs above. The gardens would have been lovely to stroll through but I knew we were probably going to be on too short a visit. Inside, the palace was not quite as opulent as those we'd seen in St. Petersburg but even so, it was impressive.

I am a lover of wood and throughout the whole palace wherever we went there was amazing wood paneling, inlaid designs, carvings, and complicated floor patterns that played with geometric design. We strolled through the bedroom that had been used by Churchill when he stayed there for the Yalta Conference. The Livandia palace was not too far up the road where the conference was held. Roosevelt stayed there apparently because of his ill health so he wouldn't have to travel back and forth.

There was a huge dining room with a table suitable for any conference as well. Our guide assured us that Churchill and his delegation probably strategized there. We walked through a long room that was all glass windows and doors on the side that faced the Black Sea. It was full of plants and marble statues and called the Winter Garden. True or not, it was said that Churchill stood next to the fountain there and said how nice it would look with some fish in it. The next day there were fish in it. He walked up to the fountain and said, "Thank you. It looks nice." (Implying there was a hidden mic in the fountain).

A Wedgwood blue room with plaster relief design on the walls was stunning. The room contained white furniture trimmed with gold paint as well as gold accents in the drapes and upholstery. I could just imagine having high tea in the room and listening to a refined young lady play the piano.

Outside on the front facade that faced the Black Sea was a most imposing entrance way. Along the steps leading up to it were several lions all in different poses. One was sleeping with his head on his paws and it is said that Churchill decided he and the lion looked alike except that the lion didn't have a cigar.











On our way back to Sevastopol (it was an hour's bus ride), we stopped at a place with a view the Swallow's Nest Castle. The castle was built on a 130 ft. high cliff in 1911-12 by a Russian architect, Leonid Sherwood.  It was also another "pay-to-pee" stop as the guys in the group dubbed the restrooms and a chance to grab a light snack as we decided not to stop for lunch so we would have time to see all that we wanted to in Sevastopol.