Emily's Vacation, Episode III: Zeus, Isis, and the Beautiful Land of the Beans

It seems that we made it to Turkey just in time. Yesterday's ekathimerini (the source of all Greek news in English) reports that Greeks have been advised not to travel to Turkey because of bird flu. I'm glad we made it before all of that happened, because Turkey was totally worth it.
However, the two days after Turkey were also quite memorable, so I'll relate all of that as well before I return to my usual life of posting about adolescents and cats.
After our return from Turkey, we spent an afternoon day relaxing, seeing the old town in Thessaloniki, and figuring out how to rent a car. The next morning, we headed off to Mount Olympus, and Dion. Dion is the ancient site of several shrines to various gods and goddesses. Actually, there used to be a whole city at Dion. Nowadays there is a museum there (which we did not spend much time in, as it was nearing closing time when we arrived) as well as the ruins.
I thought Dion as quite impressive. It reminded me of Pella to some degree, though I think I prefer Dion. Pella, the ancient center of Macedonia, is a nice site, but it is right off the highway, which makes it less stimulating for the imgination, in my opinion. Dion is a bit more atmospheric, in part because it is right below Mount Olympus. (see the picture above). My favorite part was the shrine to Isis, which I somehow failed to take any pictures of. It's half-sunk into a sort of pond, so you walk across a little bridge over the water through the ruins and look down, where you can see remains of the shrine just below the surface.
After Dion, we started driving up Mount Olympus, but we didn't make it very far, because the roads were all icy, as you can see from the following photo:

We did stop for some hot chocolate at the Stavros Refuge, which I assume operates as a sort of hostel place during climbing season, but was mostly a restaurant/cafe in the winter.
The next day was a slightly longer trip, up to the Prespa Lakes. The Prespas are rather secluded, and right up by the Albanian border. We set off rather late, at about 10am, and made our way through Giannitsa, where we stopped to pee, Pella, Edessa and Florina, which is a town to the north that the Rough Guide highly recommends and Lonely Planet is rather disparaging of. Personally, I really enjoy reading multiple guidebooks and often finding completely different perspectives on similar things. However, we didn't stay in Florina long enough for me to develop any lasting opinions of it.
We arrived at the Prespas in the early afternoon, and they were spectacular. I love snow, and I had been missing it dearly, so this was perfect. Take a look at this picture, and you'll understand why my sister proclaimed it to look "like Narnia!" At least, like Narnia if it had highways.
We drove through a very nice little town, the name of which I do not remember, although it seemed to have a lot of massive trucks passing through, and not a lot of space on the road for them to pass on. That was a little nervewracking. However, here's a picture of the place. I think it's quite a pretty one.

Finally reached the lakes themselves. They were simply gorgeous, tucked away between the snow-covered mountains. I can't believe I don't have pictures of the lakes themselves.
We stopped at a taverna in a town called Psaredes, right on the lake shore, where we drank tea and ate some very good fasolada, or bean soup. Fasolada is the specialty of the area, and every taverna seemed to have a big signout front advertising their soup. This was unusual, because for the most part, the Greeks don't seem to be big bean eaters. The dorm kids usually turn their nose up at fasolada when it is served in the dining hall, and one student in a class I subbed advised me to "go to taverna, but don't ever, ever try fasolada. Never!" I don't know what beans did to inspire so much distaste. I practically lived off of several varieties of bean soup last year when I was cooking for myself.
We left the Prespas before dark, so as to avoid those mountain roads at night, though we did swing past the Albanian border and briefly contemplate leaving the country for dinner. We eventually took a route back to Thessaloniki that went right through Kastoria, a lake front town that is named after the beavers that used to live there. Unfortunately, the beavers got turned into fur coats, and now Kastoria is the fur center of Greece. Every other shop seems to be selling fur coats. Since I need a fur coat even less than I need a Turkish carpet, I didn't do any shopping. Apparently the Russian Mafia shop there, though, and indeed, many fur stores advertise in Russian.
(Actually, I already have a fur coat. Well, it's something fur-like, anyway, and it was purchased on Halloween 2002 for only twelve dollars from the Rags to Riches consignment shop in Grinnell, IA. I really like it. My mom does not. She is probably going to go find it and throw it away as soon as this reminds her that it is sitting in my closet at home. The Russian mafia would probably not find it very impressive, but in its defense, I don't think any small animals died for it, unless there are synthetic mink running around somewhere.)
Unfortunately, once we got into Kastoria, we could not get out. We drove around for a good hour, looking for the exit ramp to the highway. We saw multiple fur shops in the process, as well as several streets over and over and over again. Finally, we somehow managed to get ourselves back on the highway and back to Thessaloniki, where I proceeded to get us completely lost once again, this time in pursuit of a taverna that I swear has moved at some point in the past few months.
And that concludes the chronicles of my vacation. Back to life...