Rhodes part 1

Rhodes was my favorite part of Greece, so take a breath this is going to be a long one. After a restful nights sleep on the boat I woke with just enough time for a quick breakfast before we arrived at the port of Rhodes. On approach I was amazed by the harbor and the ancient fortified walls of the city, which I had not expected. The Rhodes harbor is home to one of the ancient wonders of the world.
The colossus is a huge statue that at one time served as the gate to the port of Rhodes. I would learn later that the statue only stood for 66 years before an earthquake toppled it. Excitement to explore made me eager to leave the comfort of the ship to the unknown and unplanned island of Rhodes. No sooner had I stepped off the boat then I was approached by a small old lady holding a picture. “I have room” she said. Instincts initially told me to avoid the solicitation, but curiosity won out and I asked for more details. Her name was Fona, and she was the best thing that could have happen to me. She explained that she had a room for “let” very close by in the old town. She also helped me make arrangements at the travel agency nearby for my remaining ferry tickets and rental car. I had expected to pay 100 € a night for a room, so when she gave me the room for 50 € it only felt like a near miss to the baby maker.
We left the travel agency and I followed her into Rhodes old town. Rhodes is a fortified city, which means it is completely contained within very high and strong protective walls. As soon as I passed through an entrance into the city I felt I had gone back in time. This was the Europe I had been hoping to see! The very narrow and intimate streets are paved with black and white beach pebbles. The pebbles are stacked tightly edgewise which makes them look very organized.
In places the contrast of white and black pebbles is organized to make intricate patterns and designs. It is staggering to think how many long man hours it must have taken to pave almost every inch of street this way.
Centuries of walking and grinding from carts and wheels have polished the tops of the stones making walking a texturous treat for the feet! The pebble streets would make heels impossibility even for the most skilled runway model. Every inch of space within the city walls has been cleverly inhabited or resourced.
This makes the streets, which are really alleys, very tight. It feels like you are roaming the dark mysterious paths of an amazing labyrinth. Doorways are spaced randomly which enter to amazing houses some nearly a thousand years old! In the most preserved buildings the pebble stone street flows into the building and supplies the flooring. Modern advances and technology are discreetly blended in to preserve the medieval style village that has stood for thousands of years.
And my room is right in the middle of all of it, down an unassuming quiet alley! As I unsling my pack and lay down for a moment on my bed I try to fathom how old the room I am in is and how many hundreds of people have spent a night here in the last five centuries.
I waste no time with rest almost immediately rebounding to head out and discover this magnificent place. Immediately after leaving my room I discover an old world synagogue. The Jewish people or Rhodes have a painful history, as is true for Jews everywhere I suppose. When WWII reached Rhodes all remaining Jews were captured. Most were murdered, very few survived and almost none returned to Rhodes. Most of the details of this tragedy were connected for me by a small Italian-Turkish man I met in the temple. His family had narrowly escaped before the soldiers arrived. He walked me around the old Jewish parts of the city pointing out where the original synagogue had stood, or other related facts. Some of the buildings had been bombed out, so not much remains besides rubble or lonesome staircases that reach into the sky with no destination. The house where his mother lived still stands and he points it out nostalgically. One colorful native catches one to what we are doing and invites us into his home which he explains use to be a Jewish household. The guy is straight out of a Grecian daydream. The skin of his face hangs loosely; his nose bulbous and pink from a lifetime of labor and alcohol. He explains in broken English that he has raised five children in this house and right next door was the site of the old Jewish university. Stepping outside and walking to a nearby playground he gets excited. Stomping on the ground he tells us that the old Jewish temple still exists underneath the dirt. He says he has been down there when the before the entrance was filled in and that the hidden room contains beautiful architecture and ornaments. The Jewish people I have ended up on this spontaneous tour with are skeptical, but I can’t help wondering what I might find after a few hours of digging. The tour group dissolves as each person returns to thought of their original agenda. I have no agenda so my wandering continues. I weave in and out of street after street, each one displaying unique characteristic of the people that live within the walls. After a while I follow a line of cannons pointing out into the harbor into the entrance to the main castle. The castle was partially destroyed at one point by a gunpowder explosion in one of the towers, but has been reconstructed. Another 12€ gains me admission.
The castle is exactly what my little boy imagination tells me a castle should be. Long halls with 30 foot vaulted ceilings open into massive rooms with even taller ceilings. Each room is decorated with amazing detail. The floors are mosaics made from tiles the size of dimes. The woodwork is richly engraved each small piece taking hundreds of hours no doubt. Some rooms have artifacts and exhibits but many are empty except for several pieces of original furniture. The awe inspiring architecture and furnishings do not elicit as much of my attention as the many locked doors and gated passageways I find however. Many times I end up gazing out a window or down a long tunnel at some off limits portion devising ways I might gain access. After a few hours of roaming, I estimate I have only seen about 20% of the castle. Above all, I wish to find a way onto the castle wall and up one of the towers. Most people would leave this desire to rest and move on. Not me, and the next morning, I find a way to drink my coffee at the top of one of the towers!