Ancient Greece: The Parents' Choice

We spend both of our days in Athens walking in search of ruins. A new project, the Unification of the Archaeological Sites of Athens, links ruins with signs and pedestrian walkways, so you can meander from the Parthenon to Hadrian's Arch, the Temple of Zeus, an ancient stadium and other important sites.

Maddie doesn't parrot any of my exclamations of wonder at what we are seeing. She is sufficiently engaged not to complain, whatever that's worth. Several weeks after the trip, though, I realize from her laughter that seeing the ruins of the Parthenon probably helped her understand a Jay Leno joke I shared: When the president of Greece shows President Bush a picture of the Parthenon, our president growls, "Don't worry, we'll help you get the scum who did this."

Epidavros on a Dime

Maddie has been looking forward to our getting a car for the drive to the Peloponnesian peninsula because she'll finally be able to fire up her Game Boy. Unfortunately, the car's cigarette lighter is broken, so the Game Boy remains dead for the duration of the trip. That just means, though, that we have to talk and play more old-fashioned car games.

Yes, we give short shrift to Corinth. But if you do stop there for an archeological tour, look for the signs for the local woodworking shop. They have some awesome hair ornaments, made of olive wood and silver.

About an hour after our stop in Corinth we arrive in Epidavros, a definite highlight. The archeological site includes a lovely small museum and the ruins of a healing sanctuary. Tiers of seating climb the mountainside, offering a view not only of the stage but also of mountains and splendid green plains studded with wildflowers, olive trees and tall, fragrant pines.

The theater, built in the fourth and second centuries B.C., holds 15,000 spectators. Corinthian pilasters flank the entrance to one of the best preserved buildings of Classical Greece. The natural acoustics are renowned: It's said that from the highest seat you can hear a coin dropped on the stage, or the lighting of a match. Maddie hikes up the stone stairs to the top of the theater; I'm the coin dropper in the test. Turns out even a dime creates a racket.

Fortresses and Shopping

So far, our only major concession to childhood has been that my husband and I take turns having dinner alone, since our jet-lagged child gives out well before what is considered a respectable dinner hour in Greece. (One restaurant we visited at 9 p.m. graciously offered to seat us while we waited for the cook to arrive.) By the time we reach Nafplion, our third night in Greece, she's back on track.

The suggestion that we make Nafplion our base for seeing the remains of Mycenaean civilization was a great one. Once the capital of Greece, the port town begins along the Argolic Gulf and spreads up the mountainside. It is presided over by a massive Venetian fortress, the Palamidi, whose walls stretch atop a rock that hovers more than 700 feet above the town.

We climb narrow winding streets to find our hotel perched on the mountainside, overlooking the sea and the red-tiled roofs of neo-classical mansions and Venetian houses built by conquerors of old. The hotel is simple and cheap, but overlooks an idyllic scene so like what you'd expect from the balcony of an expensive Italian villa that I'm constantly reminded of the movie, "A Room With a View." We spend two evenings and a day wandering around this lovely town without boredom or complaint. You must know your child in these situations. If I had a rambunctious child, I would have encouraged a climb up the 999 steps to the Palamidi fortress. (We instead drove the winding road to the top.) Or we'd have taken the short ferry ride to the Bourtzi fortress to see where officials used to execute prisoners before throwing their bodies into the sea. (Maddie found that gross.)

We instead shop. When allotted a certain agreed-upon-in-advance stipend, Maddie tends to be very judicious in her purchases, which means we need to see most everything in town before deciding. One of the great joys of foreign travel is the odd things you can buy that you'd never find in a mall. I'm glad I've trained my child to agree.

Outdoor Classroom

Many scholars didn't believe Homer's accounts of the mighty kingdom of Mycenae. But in the 1870s, amateur archeologist Heinrich Schliemann discovered a grand citadel made of stone 23 feet wide and 42 feet high. Homer's Cyclops giants might not have been around to lift the stones, as the ancient Greeks believed, but nonetheless, there they were.