I am impressed by people who live in hilly cities.

How do they get around? How annoying/challenging is it to be going uphill or downhill at all times? If you drop a ball … it’s going to roll a long way before it comes to a stop, probably in a nearby body of water.

Hydra, the Greek island we have spent four fine days in, is like that. You get off the boat, and moving into the city means going uphill. Sometimes sharply.

It makes for great views, in many cases, but it also makes me wonder how old people and injured people and small kids get around.

This was the first day we didn’t have wedding-related activities to enjoy, so after a slow morning and a nap, I decided to tour the city. Well, the village. (Population, 2,000)

I started the climb behind the hotel, and that was a steep one. No streets up there (no motor vehicles in the city; none), but zig-zagging cobblestone lanes climb up — and up and up.

Sometimes, the difference between a path leading to a home’s front door and the general path leading further uphill, is negligible. You don’t know which one you are on till it stops at a front door.

It also seems maze-like. Have I been on this staircase before? Am I going in up-and-down circles?

The hills on the southern side of the city, which rise quickly from the sea, seem to be the less-affluent part of town. More than a few abandoned places, perhaps because people got tired of climbing hundreds of steps to get to them.

Going to the grocery store has to be a major task, one left for young people, who not only can do the steps, but can bring a gallon of milk and a six-pack of bottled water with them.

I was winded, and how, by the time I got to what appeared to be the top of this sector. A fine view, below me, of the clock tower and the crowded harbor.

I could have continued to climb, but I was getting gassed.

I conceived the idea of trying to reach the soccer field. It must be the biggest flat piece of land in the town, and I just wanted to see it. (I often make a point of searching out all sorts of stadiums. A sports writer thing.)

But I absolutely could not figure out how to get at it — without climbing maybe 1,000 feet and coming at it from above, when I could see it.

I tried again and again to approach it from below, and I found a park, and the farms where the mules spend their free time, and some of the newer and bigger and sleeker homes.

But I didn’t find the soccer field. Didn’t even get close.

Eventually, I ran out of really steep and surprisingly narrow lanes to try, and when I found myself back at water level again, I gave up.

But, really, I did this for 90 minutes and was gassed. How difficult must it be to handle this day after day without even a scooter to take your stuff up to where you live?

I’m impressed. San Francisco is like this, and Rome and every city in the Greek islands.

They are tougher, more energetic people than I am.