Eastern Mediterranean: sailing "Italian Style" to the Greek Isles and beyond with Costa Cruise Lines

Cruise Travel, July-August, 2005 by Jim Kerr

No tours were offered for this evening stop, one of the preferred party islands in the Grecian archipelago; you are expected to exercise your own devices. A crowd had gathered at a waterfront restaurant to watch the sunset. On a nearby hill, ancient windmills stood vigil over the sea below. As darkness fell, inviting light came from myriad shops along the narrow streets of the village, and we stopped to enjoy delicious gyros and souvlaki at a cafe.

Early the next morning we docked in Rhodes, described by a guide as "the most complete medieval city in Europe." The Colossus of Rhodes, said to be 100 feet tall and stationed at the harbor entrance, was destroyed in an earthquake in 227 BC, but the walled city still holds a treasure of ancient architecture, with terraced roofs, arched windows, and elaborate mosaic courtyards. We opted for a tour of Lindos, one of three ancient cities on the island, and its nearby Acropolis before returning to the main city of Rhodes, where we proceeded to happily lose ourselves in a warren of intriguing but baffling narrow streets in the old town. Palaces and a museum rounded out cultural attractions, but colorful plazas with fountains and cafes also offered rest and refreshment during a long day.

Dubrovnik, our last stop, was 750 nautical miles away, and the ensuing daylong cruise from Rhodes was a welcome respite from sightseeing on land. There are approximately 2,000 Greek islands, and as we passed close to a dozen or more, their all-but-empty harbors and quiet little seaside towns beckoned to us as we stood on the balcony of our stateroom. Dubrovnik offered a fascinating final look at a fortified 15th century European city. Abolished as an independent state by Napoleon in 1808, and now part of Croatia, Dubrovnik was bombed by Serbs during conflicts in the 1990s. Photos depicting renovations that arose from the rubble are proudly displayed at bookstores, and the still very independent population seems pleased with the city's re-emergence as a major tourist attraction.

That evening we found ourselves squarely back in Italy at the farewell gala dinner aboard the Costa Victoria. French, Americans, and Brits could order their Filetto di manzo Wellington prepared rare, medium, or well done, but otherwise the menu this last night was strictly Italian. Appetizers included Petto d'anatra affumicato (smoked duck breast with pear marmalade and seasonal greens) and crema fredda do ciliegie (chilled cream of cherry). Main courses included Aragosta (lobster), Costolette (grilled lamb chops), and Scaloppine (veal). All choices went well with a bottle of Villa Jolanda Barbera, a dry red Italian wine, vintage 2002.

Early morning light glowed off the venerable buildings of St. Marks Square as we cruised slowly past en route to debarkation at the pier in Venice. The ornate Basilica and Doge's Palace gleamed, but there was something strangely missing from the scene. The sunrise had caught the celebrated attraction devoid of tourists. No one fed the pigeons, crowds were absent from the square, lines were not forming at the Doge's Palace and every table at the pricey sidewalk cafes was empty. In the extraordinary and perennial Venetian light, it could have been centuries earlier.