By evening, we rolled into Nafplio—a true feast for the senses. After days spent wandering through ancient ruins and archaeological sites, it felt refreshing to step into a lively modern city again. Sailboats bobbed in the harbor, fashionable cafés lined the promenade, and gleaming yachts floated just offshore. Some were so massive that several in our group mistook them for cruise ships. Overlooking it all, the Palamidi Fortress kept stately watch from its perch high above town, a perfect reminder that in Greece, the past and present are never far apart.
The views from the hotel were spectacular. We were provided freshly squeezed lemon juice on the breakfast terrace from the family orchard in the hills you can see in the picture above. Just above the hotel, Palamidi Fortress still stands as a stalwart sentinel.
After an orientation walk with Angelos, we were turned loose to explore on our own. Eight of us eventually gravitated toward the same charming corner of town and decided to grab dinner together — perfect timing, as a heavy rainstorm swept in just moments before and we were a bit waterlogged. I ordered a simple chickpea soup (revithosoupa), a classic Greek comfort dish I would later recreate at home in a much larger pot.
Above: One of the many Nafplio squares as well as a typical street near the waterfront.
Below: The waterfront included a monument honoring the French Philhellenes who died fighting the Turks during the Greek Revolution—a quiet but powerful reminder of the international support that helped shape modern Greece. Nearby stood a 900-year-old olive tree with its thick, knotted trunk serving as a living witness to nearly a millennium of history along this coast. As we walked along the shore, a storm rolled in, sending dramatic clouds sweeping over the bay and whipping the flags into a frenzy. It made the whole scene feel even more cinematic, as if history itself were stirring in the wind!
When the skies finally cleared, a few of us made our way to the gelateria Rick Steves recommends to avoid walking up the wet cobblestoned hillside in the rain. It was a delightful little stop—the kind of place where the gelato is rich, the flavors bright, and you immediately understand why it earned a spot in his guidebook. Another person on the tour jokingly stated that our tour predominantly consisted of walking up hill and eating. Even still, I lost 10 pounds on the tour, so you will not catch me complaining!
Later that night, the quiet rhythm of rain lingering over the harbor lulled me to sleep—a peaceful end to a full, memorable day.
This morning, we made our way to the ancient citadel of Mycenae — a place so old it feels as though it exists half in history, half in myth. Dating from roughly 1600–1200 BC, this hilltop stronghold rises above a landscape of silvery olive orchards and rugged mountains. It was here that archaeologists uncovered Circle Grave A, the royal burial site that yielded many of the treasures now displayed at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens—including the famed “Mask of Agamemnon.” Our local guide, Patty Staikou, was engaging as she brought this site to life.
Mycenae remained largely forgotten until 1876, when German archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann arrived with a shovel, big dreams, and a flair for headline-making discoveries and brought this ancient world back into the light. These treasures are highlighted at the Archaeological Museum of Mycenae.
The pottery was exquisite, and the two potters in our group were especially captivated by the traditional techniques and natural pigments still used today. On the left, you can spot several beautifully decorated pots including one with a wonderfully animated octopus curling its tentacles across the surface. Above is a terracotta larnax, essentially an ancient cremation urn, offering a fascinating glimpse into how the Minoans honored their dead.
Religious symbols were found throughout. These clay representations of animals were often substituted for animal sacrifices by those who could not afford the live version.
Even the museums have felines! Isn't she adorable?
At the archaeological site, we approached through the iconic Lion Gate, its once-imposing guardians now headless but still powerful in presence. From there, we wandered through the ruins of palaces, storerooms, and ancient walls, imagining the bustle of a civilization that thrived here more than three thousand years ago. Every turn of the path opened up another sweeping view. A patchwork of orchards, hills, and distant peaks that made it easy to understand why the Mycenaeans chose this commanding perch.
In its heyday, the gateway and the citadel beyond would have stood as potent symbols of Mycenae’s wealth and influence, especially after Troy’s fall around 1200 BC. By 1100 BC, the city was abandoned, left to weather centuries of wind and silence as Greece slipped into its four hundred yearlong Middle Ages.
Above: The ginormous 13th-century BC Treasury of Atreus (also called the Tomb of Agamemnon) immediately reminded me of the beehive huts along Ireland’s Ring of Kerry—only this “hive” is on an epic Mycenaean scale. The tholos chamber spans 47 feet in diameter and soars 42 feet high, its stones tipping the scale at five tons each. The lintel block above the doorway is the real showstopper: 26 feet long, 16 feet deep, and weighing an astonishing 120 tons!
What impressed me most was the engineering genius of the relieving triangle above the entrance, which cleverly distributes the enormous weight of the dome so the doorway does not collapse under its own ambition.
This was once the burial place of royalty—kings laid to rest in the center of the chamber with lavish grave goods. Sadly, grave robbers reached them first, leaving archaeologists with little more than an empty monument and tantalizing questions about who exactly was entombed here and what treasures accompanied them into the afterlife.
Walking up to the Lion Gate at Mycenae felt like stepping straight into Homeric legend. The massive stones seem almost impossibly large—no wonder later Greeks believed giants had built these “Cyclopean walls.” Passing beneath the famous lions, you can’t help but imagine ancient Mycenaeans doing the same thousands of years ago as they entered this mighty Bronze Age citadel.
The famous Lion Gate still guards the entrance to Mycenae, its two proud lions poised above the doorway—though their heads are long gone. Patty explained that the missing heads were likely carved from precious stone, making them irresistible targets for theft at some point over the millennia. Even without them, the imposing relief still projects the same message it did 3,300 years ago: “You’re entering the realm of serious power.”
Grave Circle A (1550 BC) was the final resting place of Mycenaean royalty and one of the most important archaeological finds in Greece. Excavated in 1876 by Heinrich Schliemann (the same who uncovered the site of ancient Troy) the discovery helped lend real-world weight to Homer’s epic tales. Among the treasures found here was the so-called Mask of Agamemnon. Though striking, it actually predates the legendary king by some 300 years, a reminder that history and myth often mingle in fascinating ways.
The views from this vantage point were absolutely stunning. We made yet another climb up the hill to explore the remains of the ancient city, imagining what life might have looked like here at the height of Mycenaean power. It is sobering to stand among the stones and ponder why the city was burned and abandoned around 1100 BC, or what kind of journey Mycenaean warriors would have faced when launching their attack on Troy around 1200 BC, the era when Mycenae ruled the Aegean world. After its fall, the trail of history goes silent for centuries, a period we now call the Greek Middle Ages (or the Dark Ages), when virtually nothing was recorded and much of the culture simply disappeared in the annals of history.
Back we went to Nafplio for an afternoon of free time—a perfect chance to wander deeper into this charming seaside town. I joined one of the couples in our group for a taxi ride up to the Palamidi Fortress, the dramatic stronghold perched high above the harbor. Built 1711-1714 during the Venetian occupation, it is remarkably well preserved.
From its ramparts, the world seems to unfold in every direction. To the west, sheer cliffs drop more than 650 feet, offering jaw-dropping views of the Aegean and its distant islands. Below us, the tiny Venetian Bourtzi Fortress sat like a stone crown in the middle of the harbor. It was easy to imagine how effectively this hilltop citadel once guarded the town from invaders arriving by land or sea.
Exploring the interior was a workout in itself—a maze of stairways, bastions, and lookout points—and I felt entirely vindicated in our decision to skip the famous 999 steps from town. Even with the taxi assist, it was quite the climb, but absolutely worth every breath.
Pro Tip: Consider taking a taxi to reduce any discomfort you experience ranging from sore feet to tired backs. It is not worth your enjoyment to save a few euros!
The fortress towers above the harbor—a proud reminder of Venetian power during the height of their maritime empire. From this vantage point, it is easy to imagine galleys and merchant ships once coming and going beneath the watchful eye of Venetian rule.
Sometimes it is best to wander with no plan at all, letting your feet decide where you go and what surprises wait around the next corner. These are just a few of the sights I stumbled upon while doing exactly that in Nafplio.
Above: Green thumbs sprout up around every corner in Nafplio!
Right: A big shout out to this traveling German family who traveled with three young children!
In the early evening, we regrouped for a leisurely stroll through Nafplio’s charming streets on our way to yet another memorable group dinner. As we settled in, musicians filled the air with traditional Greek melodies (including Angelos featuring his finger cymbal talents); the kind that make you slow down, savor the moment, and feel utterly rooted in place.
"Misirlou,," the traditional Greek song that Tarantino used as the theme song in "Pulp Fiction"
We feasted on classic dishes, including one of my personal favorites, gigantes plaki—those tender, oven-baked giant beans that taste like pure comfort.
Between the music, the food, and the easy camaraderie around the table, it felt like the perfect send off for this lovely town; a place rightly celebrated for its postcard views and unhurried, restorative atmosphere.