Finding ourselves with some time to kill before extending our car rental, my friends and I did a little exploring. Armed with a map of the island marked up with "what to see" by our friend the bride, we decided to visit the Cave of Olympi, a 200,000 year-old natural wonder filled with stalactites resembling pipe organs and wedding cakes. As we descended into the cool, musty interior, our bi-lingual tour guide described (via a script from which he didn't dare stray) the climate and chronology of the cave. He ushered us along grumpily, almost as if he resented our presence. Humorless tour guides always amaze me. Why and how do they get into it? If you would rather play with rocks than talk to people, wouldn't you be a geologist and not a tour guide?