Rhodes

Rhodes: Cats, Moats, and One Last Greek Adventure

Rhodes was our last Greek stop before heading back to Athens, and with no guided tour planned, I’d taken matters into my own hands. The plan was simple: get off the ship early, beat the crowds, and make a beeline for breakfast in the Old Walled City.

We disembarked as soon as we could and walked through the massive medieval walls into a city that still felt half-asleep. The cobblestone streets were quiet, shutters closed, the air cool. We found our way to The Corner Bakery, claimed a table outside, and ordered coffee — strong, dark, exactly what we needed. Their homemade apple tart and apple fritter were nothing short of magical, buttery and spiced just right. We also ordered a traditional Greek breakfast, and honestly, if I could have stayed there all morning, I would have.

My brother and brother-in-law eventually wandered off the ship to join us, which gave us an excuse to sit even longer, lingering over coffee while the city slowly woke up around us. Shops were still closed, so we weren’t missing anything — it was one of those rare vacation mornings where there was no rush, just the pleasure of being somewhere so impossibly old and beautiful.

When the shops finally began to open, we made our way to the Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes. This 14th-century fortress-turned-museum is as impressive as it sounds: towering stone walls, vast courtyards, and cool echoing halls where you can practically hear the clank of armor. It’s hard to walk through a place like that and not feel how young our own country is — we just don’t have anything that compares. After wandering through the palace, we strolled down the Street of the Knights, a perfectly preserved medieval road where you can almost see the processions that once passed through.

Eventually we made our way into the more touristy part of town, weaving through the crowds to find lunch.

Afterward, we did our last bit of Greek shopping — bowls, a small painting, and of course, evil eyes to bring home. (If you’re not familiar, the evil eye — or mati — is a little blue talisman meant to protect you from bad luck brought on by envy or someone’s glare. In Greece, they’re everywhere: in jewelry, on doors, on keychains. It felt only right to pick one up before leaving. Since our youngest daughter is, let’s say, not the best driver, we thought we should get her one to hang from her rearview mirror!)

And then there were the cats. I was completely obsessed with taking their pictures, and my husband was just as obsessed with teasing me for it. Early in the morning, we watched an elderly man, followed by what can only be described as a cat posse, shuffle down a narrow road. He unlocked a door, went inside, and came back out with food for every single feline. It was like a Disney movie, if Disney made films about old men and cobblestoned streets. Naturally, I took 47 photos.

As the day wound down, it was nearly time to head back to the ship — but then I saw a sign for the moat. A moat! How could I leave without seeing it? My husband, ever the practical one, said, “Absolutely not. We’re not missing the ship for this.” My brother, however, was game. We made a quick detour and found it: a wide, grassy expanse running around the base of the walls, not a drop of water in sight. It was beautiful in its own way — the idea that this was once a line of defense, now just peaceful green space. It felt worth the minor spousal tension. (And no, we were not late for the ship.)

Rhodes was the perfect ending to our Greek cruise — slower paced, full of history, and filled with those moments you remember long after you’ve unpacked your suitcase: incredible coffee, ancient walls, too many souvenirs, and just enough cats to make my husband roll his eyes.