The island of Rhodes may not be as well-known to travelers as Santorini or Mykonos, but it’s my favorite of the three. There’s a lot going on here. Neat-looking buildings. Interesting-looking people. It’s exotic. Especially in the narrow lanes of Rhodes’ Old Town.
The hustle and bustle in Old Town takes place in the shadow of the Palace of the Grand Masters of the Knights of St. John. (Also called the Knights Hospitaller).
The Palace of the Grand Masters
A citadel has existed on this site since the 7th century. In the 14th century, the Knights Hospitaller built it into the fortress we see today.
A wide stone path called the Street of the Knights leads to the palace entrance. Seven inns – one for each country from which knights came – line the street. It’s just a street, but it has a regal air, even now.
Back in Old Town, the crowds were starting to come out. Shops are crammed in along both sides of the narrow lanes. Wide awnings provide shade, inviting you to stay and ogle the merchandise just to be out of the sun.
We walked up, down, and all around Old Town. People were milling around everywhere. The air smelled of spices and something tasty being roasted somewhere nearby.
The Place was Starting to Grow on Me
When you’re in Old Town, it doesn’t take much effort to imagine that it’s back in the day. You’re in the bazaar, looking to get a good deal on a hookah or a lamp. (Preferably a magic lamp!) The place was starting to grow on me.
On a quiet side street, we came to a stately building with two tall, nicely carved wooden doors. They looked like they’ve been there for hundreds of years.
On one of the doors there was a brass, or maybe bronze knocker in the shape of a hand. That knocker got me thinking… In this part of the world, if you get caught doing something with your hand that you’re not supposed to, say, stealing an orange, the authorities might decide to cut your hand off, just to teach you a lesson.
I wonder… was this hand on the door made of solid brass, or was there a real hand inside, just covered up with brass? Maybe it was the hand of the last guy who knocked on this door when he shouldn’t have. Or maybe it belonged to a tourist who got too curious.
What’s Behind those Doors?
But the real question wasn’t about the hand. It was about what was behind those big, wooden doors. The gap between the two doors looked wide enough to see through if I got close enough. But there was no way I was going to go up and take a peek.
I glanced over at my always-innocent-looking Better Half. Perhaps she’d go up to the doors and peek inside. You never know – she’s pretty gutsy at times.
Just then the left-side door creaked slowly open. Yikes! Talk about timing!
A little lady came out and left the door open for any curious tourist – should there happen to be one in the vicinity – to peer inside.
The doors opened onto a courtyard. A mosaic made of white and gray stone covered the ground in the courtyard. It was a diamond pattern like a diamondback rattlesnake. Very nice.
What was this place? Was this the back door to some modern-day sultan’s palazzo? Was it the entryway to the house of an old soothsayer? Hmmm… well, there was only one way to find out, and that was to head on in.
Are you kidding? No way I was going in there! There could be a dozen Seljuks with razor-sharp scimitars behind that door, waiting to pounce on the first unsuspecting infidel that wandered in.
We moved on, back into Old Town. A vegetable vendor made his way up and down the bustling streets. The veggies looked good.
And speaking of veggies, it’s time for lunch.
To be continued…
