Well, we had to skip our scheduled hike up to the Acropolis of Lindos on the day we were in port at Rhodes. Stupid being sick. We substituted a walk across the street to a pharmacy. Seriously—off the boat and across the street. Of course, they had nothing I needed because Europe.
Before we left, though, I quick checked on Google to see if there was anything at all nearby that might be worth seeing. I saw a couple things, but the most promising was the blah blah Palace something blah.
After finishing our business at the pharmacy buying “medicine” that was mostly “useless,” I asked Rick if he wouldn’t like to just walk along the street in the sun and let’s see what’s through this cool gate in this ancient stone wall. Whoa, a little town? Cute!
“This is cute!” I said.
“It really is,” he said.
“There are so many people, though,” I said. “Let’s walk along this way just to see if there’s another wall gate thing we can use to get back.”
“Okay,” he said.
“You know,” I said, all innocence and rainbows, “I may have seen somewhere that there’s a cool palace or something here, probably just around that corner up there.”
“Really,” he said. “That could be cool.”
“Heh heh,” I thought, “I win again!”
“What did you just say?” he asked.
“Oh crap,” I said, “I forgot I was writing this and you can see everything.”
And that’s how we ended up at the Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes, or as they say in Greek, the Παλάτι του Μεγάλου Μαγίστρου των Ιπποτών της Ρόδου. Roughly.
The palace gates were imposing—far more than I expected on this small island. But, you know, it is right next to the Turks, so maybe they needed big gates. From the moment you enter the courtyard, the grandeur of the palace is obvious. The sheer magnitude of the walls whispered tales of chivalry and valor. The Knights of Rhodes were one of the many flavors of the Knights Hospitaller, a medieval Catholic military order. A mix of monks and soldiers, so pacifists with swords? Or Starfleet when they got all girded up for war with the Dominion?
The palace did not disappoint. I expected dusty, barren rooms with enormous, disused fireplaces. And there were, but there were also magnificent mosaics with vibrant colors and intricate designs. Some rooms were outfitted with period furniture and cool statues. You know, mostly of avenging angels, but still cool. And the place was immaculate. Every inch of the place was crafted with care and precision. You could almost hear the clinking armor and the whispers of plotting knights from the corners. All the drama and none of the danger.
Some rooms were more complete than others, like the Hall of the Council with its heavy, ornate furniture, or the imposing Grand Master's chamber, or a bunch of the smaller rooms housing an array of medieval artifacts—all from a time of power, strategy, and grand designs now vanished.
The palace also has its own ghost stories and legends. It seemed unlikely ghosts would choose to haunt a place so overrun with tourists. But I guess if I was a ghost, I might choose a busy palace over a random killing field somewhere, right?
The best part was coming out of the palace into the surrounding flower gardens with the Mediterranean lurking in the background as a counterpoint to the stone and history inside.
Our “accidental” detour had turned into the highlight of our day.
“Pretty cool, huh?” I said.
Rick just rolled his eyes like he does. I’ve decided over the years that means he completely agrees with me and just can't find the words.
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