My hunk of burning love...

You all are going to have to let me know which blogs you like the best because I happen to think that I may do some of my best writing in the airport. We shall see, as it were, I am at this very moment sitting in my hidden restaurant in Alicante airport. The mere fact that I know about this “diamond in the rough” is a testament to how very well we have gotten to know one another, this airport and I. I shall dearly miss flying out of here to begin all my adventures. Having strayed off topic I think it important that I focus, where were we? Oh yes, quite correct, we were on a train… a train headed for an infamous floating city.

Venice, one of the most famous cities in the world, a prime destination for anyone in their right mind, was within my grasp. I don’t know what the rest of you see in your mind’s eye when you think Venice, but I think romantic gondola rides and a peaceful lunch by the water’s edge, a glass of wine in my hand, of course. I forgot to remind my mind’s eye of a few things, because while Venice was on my to-do list, in my picture-perfect world it unfolded a lot differently. I will fill you in as I go…

As soon as I stepped out of the train station, I let out a gasp, one of shock and awe. It is so different to see a city floating on water. People using boats as their transportation, ambulances floating on by, and its as if the world was flipped upside down, and Venice decided to make its own parallel universe. Luckily this parallel universe looked just as I imagined it would.

Does it look like what you pictured?

Here, however, is where my dream world started to differ immediately from the real world. First of all, the company left something to be desired. Don’t get me wrong, they are all great people, one of them being my best friend, but it was not supposed to be four girls with me. I am sure you can guess who was supposed to be with me, but in case you are a little slow on the uptake, I will fill you in. My HUNK OF BURNING LOVE! My stud-muffin, boo, snookie, cupcake…I think you get the picture. Whatever you want to call him, he wasn’t there so I had to kick myself more than a few times during the day as a reminder not to pine over my imaginary lover.

The first thing we did in Venice was alight at St. Marks Square. It was nice, but there were so many tourists that we decided to head off in a different direction. One of the travel site suggestions for Venice is to get lost walking the streets. We took the path less traveled taking multiple turns, walking over mini-bridges, and in no time we had no idea where we were. It was fun to just take pleasure where it came, whether it be window shopping, snapping a photo, or sitting on the side of a canal, not having a destination was relaxing.

While we were meandering through Venice we passed a wine store that had a great offer on their house wine. They put it in plastic bottles and it only cost 3 Euros. While in my dream world I had my wine (in a glass) sitting casually at a fancy restaurant on the side of the canal; in the real world I had my wine (in a plastic cup) on a gondola ride. Not such a bad trade off. Wine, however, goes straight to my head, and for a while I was floating in the clouds, beyond happy to be in a gondola in Venice. Something I had dreamed of, but never thought could be a reality.

After our gondola ride we went in search of lunch, and I ran smack into the next disparity between fantasy and reality. Venice, my friends, is quite expensive, and believe it or not, in my dream world I was not a starving college student. In fantasyland I was rich, dressed to the nines, and could go to whatever canal-side restaurant that tickled my fancy.  Obviously that was not the case in Venice real world. When we went to order at my fantasy canal side restaurant I realized the budget could not withstand such a hit. Lunch, in the real world, was down a small alley with a nice gentlemen waiter who sent free risotto, “for the Blondie”, as he called me. I think he may have noticed how thin our pocketbooks were.

Pity risotto:)

After our stomachs were no longer grumbling we continued on our merry way. Soon after, we stumbled on a market that was familiar. If you have seen, The Tourist, you will recognize the exact place where Johnny Depp jumped from this balcony in an attempt to escape his pursuers.

My feet walked where Johnny Depp ran...

I believe that a certain phenomenon started the second day of our trip. Around 3 or 4ish in the afternoon tempers would start to fray, nerves would be jumpy, and everyone became a little crazy. Oftentimes we added coffee or chocolate to the mix and it became the perfect recipe for wild disaster…

Take 1 of crazy with coffee in hand

Luckily the phenomenon would only last for about an hour, and then we stopped embarrassing ourselves in public.  I happened to snap a shot of this wall in an area of town that was less touristy. I love this wall. When I have a house I can’t wait to do something similarJ

growing wild

All in all, while there were some large disparities between my dream Venice trip, and what actually happened, it was a wonderful day. The day trip did convince me that when I am rich, and have a lover, a return trip might be in the cards. So if you are a stud-muffin millionaire who is interested, go ahead and call me!

20 lb. babies and the train mix-up....

All righty folks! I am just going to say, “I must enjoy blogging” to endeavor to catalog the events of my two-week euro trip. I am not exaggerating, I departed Murcia April 15 and I returned April 30, that is 16 days of madness. I have to give a shout out to my main motivators: my parents, grandparents, Nicole Schmidt, Brianna Miner, and the parents of my friends. They humor me by reading my blog, and it makes me feel loved.  Hopefully, you have stuck with me even though I disappeared from the blogging world for about two months!

The Euro Trip 2011 started with a flight into Milan, Italy. With Ryanair, you just never know what you are getting into, nothing proved this more to me, than my flight into Milan. It turns out Bergamo airport is an hour outside of Milan, which I did not know, and we had to take a bus ride into town. Thank goodness for the fact that we had purchased a train ticket to Verona much later then are flight landed, or we would have missed our train.

Jessica and I were meeting up with Kristen, Laura, and Tess (our fellow co-conspirators) at the train station. Since they had a later flight, into a different airport, we were able to explore a little of Milan solo. Once we got into the city we took the metro straight to the Duomo. It was extravagant, and took quite a bit of effort to climb with what must have been 20 pounds of weight on my back.

Milan's Duomo in all its glory...

Later on in the trip we learned that you could check your backpacks at the train stations for a good price, luckily, it was not that much later on.

Tip #10: Do not be muscle woman or man! If you can check your backpack, fork over the cash, and check-it. Trust me when I say it beats backpack burn, and a sweaty back. Not to mention the feeling of giving a piggyback ride to a fat baby who you didn’t birth. Also, with the terrorist scare level high, everyone assumes your fat baby is a bomb. My advice: leave it at the train station.

After the Duomo, we had our first Italian dinner and gelato (what can I say we were excited to be in Italy) then went to meet up with the group at the train station. Turns out we were lucky and conveniently ran into them in the HUGE Milan station. They bought tickets for a different train so we had just enough time for an excited embrace before they boarded an earlier train to Verona. Little did Jessica and I know that we would not be seeing them until the next morning.

Jessica and I boarded our train at around 9:00p.m. and arrived in Verona at 11:00p.m. The other girls were supposed to be waiting for us in the station but when we disembarked they were nowhere to be found. We ended up meeting this boy who was also vacationing, he spoke some Italian, and we all decided instead of paying for a taxi the three of us should walk to the hotel, 40 minutes later we arrived at our hotel, 20 pound babies and all! Surprise, Surprise…when we went to check in the girls were not at the hotel either. That is when I started to worry. After all, they had taken a train that was supposed to arrive an hour earlier, and we had spent a good 45 minutes with the bright idea to walk to the hotel. If they had been kidnapped or something it was really going to put a cramp in my style, so I did what I do best, I called my dad. Turns out they had gotten on the wrong train and were going to arrive at the hotel really late. I left a note at the front desk telling them what time we were going to wake up, and then Jessica and I went to bed.

We got ready the next morning and went down for the continental breakfast only to find that the girls never checked in the night before. There it was…the charlie-horse sized cramp in my style. I had looked forward to a wonderful day in Verona renting bicycles from the hotel, eating gelato, seeing the romantic Juliet’s wall, going to dinner, and it all came crashing down.

Jessica and I were eating breakfast when I said, “You know what would be great? If they walked in the door right now.” Two minutes later the three weary travelers barged their way through the hotel door. I got my wish, and brick by brick my wonderful day in Verona re-built itself. While they were all exhausted we only had this one day in Verona so everyone decided to push through the pain and go for the gusto.

We rented bikes and headed in what we hoped was the right direction. It was such a breath of fresh air to be in control of the transportation. No bus driver, no pilot, no cab driver, no metro computer, just us in control of getting to our destination. We biked up and down the hills and streets of Verona; it was a blast!

The Italian traveling group!

Kristen and I with Juliet (yes you are supposed to touch her boobs for some sort of luck!)

View of Verona from the tippity top of a mountain we hiked

A friend of my parents, Jay, had put me in contact with a friend of his in Verona. His friend, Luciano took us all out to dinner. We went out for pizza with his family, and it was a great way to celebrate our first night together in Italy. It was the topping on the cake to a fabulous day. I have to say a big thank you to Jay, and Luciano and his family for being so gracious/welcoming to us in Italy!

The pizza was delicious and the company was even better!

Vacation all I ever wanted...

Well everyone, it seems I have finally gotten behind on my blog. It happens to the best of us. Now I am procrastinating because it seems impossible to blog the sheer amount of vacations I have had…. my last two days in Greece (check), two weeks worth of spring break, and the island of Ibiza. My life is so hard right now.

I will soon add to that list the week my parents are here (I am currently in the airport waiting to board a plane to Madrid to meet them). Here is the effort to get some of these trips blogged! Lets skip straight to Ibiza…it is the freshest!

I have been lucky enough to travel to many island paradises in my life, all of them a part of the Hawaiian Islands. Ibiza is my first island out of the states and what made it so very different from any of my other trips in Europe is that it actually felt like a vacation. I had almost forgotten what one felt like. I wasn’t running around like an insane tourist trying to climb the Duomo, explore the Louvre, and catch a bus, train, or plane. No wonder they call what I have been doing a trip or adventure, while it is just as fabulous as a vacation, it certainly has many different qualities. For one thing, on trips you arrive home more exhausted then when you leftJ

My vacation to Ibiza differed, in that, I arrived back to Spain rested and relaxed. Islands, it seems, no matter if they are in the United States or somewhere else in the world have that affect on people. Everything slows down, and all that seems to matter is the way the sun and sand feels, how the crash of the waves sounds, and the smell and taste of the salty air.

We landed in Ibiza at about 7:30p.m. on Friday and the sun was still shining. The sun doesn’t go down until much later at night and I love that the daytime stretches into nighttime. Gretchen and I hopped on a bus from the airport into Ibiza town, and from that bus we went directly onto another from the Ibiza town to Sant Josep (a pueblo farther inland) where we would be staying. This is not where your typical tourist stays most are in hotels in Sant Antonio or Ibiza town itself. At the risk of my grandparents, parents, and basically any adult who reads my blog freaking out, I am going to be honest and say we couchsurfed. That is why we were staying out where locals lived in Sant Josep. I thought about leaving it out of my blogging but a true blogger wouldn’t, and I want to look back on these blogs and remember exactly how I felt and exactly how it was. 

We got dropped off at the ¼ mile marker in Sant Josep and were picked up by our host Valery. We were lucky that his brother was there for the weekend, working at the medieval festival, and had brought his truck. Valery was able to pick us up and bring us to the guesthouse where we would be staying. As it turned out, Valery was a caretaker for a family who had a vacation home in Ibiza, and he let us have the run of the guesthouse for the four nights we were staying on the island. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect place to stay. While it was a little out of the way (harder to get to with transportation), Gretchen and I were able to see the greenery and beauty of the island, there was a peacefulness and lack of disturbance that was greatly appreciated. Here are a few photos. I have only ever seen vacation homes like this in the movies, and it was an unexpected surprise to see it in real life.

Guesthouse *please note: the black cat in midair...I planned that!

Comfy beds!

When we arrived we thought it best to head straight for Valery’s house and imagined there would be a store afterwards we could walk to for food. It turns out that his house was not near any stores and so he ended up making us dinner that night. Valery is a vegetarian so dinner happened to be lentejas with vegetables and bread. That night we asked him a good place to go to the beach the next day, he recommended Les Salinas.

His brother headed into town at 8:30a.m. to set up his ice cream stand at the medieval festival so we caught a ride into town with him. We then took a bus to Les Salinas, when we arrived it was around 9:00a.m., and we had the entire beach to ourselves. The sun was perfect and the water felt great. It has been a long time since I went swimming at the beach, for one reason or another. It seems you get older and just reading in the sun sounds more appealing. A few years go by, and then you forget how nice it is to be in the water. Granted this wasn’t like Huntington Beach, where you can’t see a few inches below you, this water was crystal clear, and you could see everything! Even though the water was freezing when I first got in, once I was used to it, I didn’t want to stop swimming and paddling around. I loved it.

Crystal clear waters and perfectly empty, Les Salines!

Once the beach started filling up I began to notice a few things. All of a sudden there were more topless women than women that had on tops. I also noticed that some men were wearing Speedos and not just any kind of Speedos, thong Speedos. I kid you not, I saw a 50 year-old man strutting around in a thong Speedo. He also seemed to strike poses at random times which could be a little awkward. At first, I was just stunned, when I was in Nice, France for euro trip we saw one or two women topless, but you should have seen this beach. Everywhere you looked there was a women sunbathing, or swimming completely bare. They would walk around or chase their children around, and it was no big thing…completely natural. Well…I began to get a little curious…it was weird to be the minority (not topless) and I just can’t help but try all things native. Eventually I just whipped off my top and started sunbathing. Naturally, the first 15 minutes I tried it I was slightly uncomfortable. That day I put my top back on and was happy to say that I tried it, and it might not be for me. After we spent the day at the beach we headed back to our guesthouse and Gretchen made spaghetti for dinner. 

The next morning we woke up and the weather was overcast, we decided it would be a great day to go to the medieval festival. I had more fun at the festival than I thought I would. First of all, the stands were set up at the top of a castle overlooking Ibiza town, and the views were wonderful. They had stands selling all sorts of knick-knacks…jewelry, soap, bread, ice cream, magnets, and ceramics. It was fun to stroll through the stands, and see all the artisan work. While we were walking up I happened to catch this scene between a grandma and her two grandsons. They all had balloon swords and were having a duel. It was adorable! When they went to leave she looked over her shoulder at the two young boys, and with her British accent shouted, “Forward knights,” and the two boys scurried after her. It made me smile because I thought, “my grandkids and I are going to do stuff like that.” Here is a picture of them racing up the hill and their grandma trailing behind…

Grandma with her two grandkids...digging the blue sword she is wielding!

We found Valery’s brother while we were at the festival and he set us up with two free ice creams as we continued on our way. We bought some bread for dinner and I also found some presents for family members while I was at the festival. All in all it was a successful day. Along with the bread, we had leftover grapes from lunch, and then we went to the store and bought olives and cheese to have a thrown together “tapas dinner” with Valery. I thought it looked so yummy, in the end, I had to take a picture.

The next day we went to Les Salinas beach again in the morning, and this time I was a little bit more comfortable with the topless thing. It is weird because I know I would never feel comfortable doing it in the U.S. but I think that is what is so great about traveling. What is something that is not normal in the United States might be completely natural here in Spain. They are so much more comfortable with nudity. Flipping through magazines here, it is a common occurrence to see nudity. They are not nearly so censored as we are. It makes me think of how it used to be before Adam and Eve took that forbidden bite out of the apple. They were just running around naked and it was quite natural….well here they just run around topless and it starts to feel natural. Nobody gawks they just continue along with their own business. Here’s a risqué tip coming at ya…

Tip# 9: When in a new place do as the locals do…If you are in Morocco, by all means follow the cultural standards, and cover yourself. However, if you are in Ibiza…let loose and embrace your inner 60’s hippie…go topless! You may feel uncomfortable, or you may love the freedom, but if you don’t try you’ll never know! Here is a picture of me topless...hahahaha NOT!

Since Gretchen and I are both white patties we could not stay at the beach all day. At  1:00p.m. we went into town and decided the best way to get out of the sun would be to see a movie. We went to go see Thor in Spanish. I actually just started seeing movies in Spanish and have found that it is really helpful for my language learning. Every time I go to see a movie I hear a new way to say something or I feel good about how far my listening skills have come. Now I have seen Fast and the Furious 5, Thor, and Agua Para Elefantes (Water for Elephants). They were all good and I got the gist of what was happening, if not all, of what was happening (points for meJ).

The next day we paid for Valery to rent a car and he drove us around the island showing us fantastic places. I was so thankful to have someone who had lived in Ibiza for a long time because he showed us some beautiful views. I know if we hadn’t have met Valery we never would have been able to see some of these places and our experience in Ibiza would have been quite different.

First, we went to Es Vedra, it is a rock/island 3 kilometers out to sea, and 400 meters high. Some say it forms part of a magical “triangle of silence” within the Balearic Islands, similar to the Bermudas. We were the only three people on the cliff viewpoint, and it was quite magical. It was a stunning view and I am very glad that we were able to see it.

Es Vedra

After Es Vedra, we headed to a little cove where we got our first taste of some strenuous exercise. I couldn’t even tell you what this place was called but we went down past rocks, bushes, trees, and finally sand to get to the bottom. The last 150 ft was pure sand and we raced to the bottom, it was a lot of fun. The water looked so inviting I was all ready to jump in, and had made my way past the treacherous rocks when I spotted a school of jellyfish. I was never so mad to see a jellyfish in my entire life. Usually I love spotting marine animals. I wasn’t stupid enough to jump in there with them so there was no swimming for me. Here is a picture of the cove.

the water was unbelievable...except the jellyfish happened to think the same thing!

After the cove hike that took about an hour and a half, we headed back to take showers, because we were disgusting. We had lunch, then kept going on our road trip around the island. We saw many more great viewpoints but another one of my favorites was the Partinatx’ Lighthouse.

indescribable

Valery dropped us off at the airport just in time to catch our flight. It was so nice to have really taken advantage of a day and caught a flight. I find so often that we have lost entire days to traveling when flying unless our flight is really early in the morning. In this case it all worked out and we had a full day of fun, and caught the flight.

Now…the trip didn’t quite end with us flying back to Alicante and taking the bus back to Murcia. Why? Well, because the buses stop running at around 10:00p.m. and our flight didn’t come in until 10:45p.m.  The options were to take a 90 Euro cab ride to Murcia, or to find accommodation in Alicante, then come back to the airport in the morning to take the bus. Neither of these options seemed appealing at 10:45p.m so I have finally joined the club of airport hotel members. That’s right I slept in the airport! I feel like it was one of those necessary milestones to being a poor world traveler. If you haven’t been a hobo in an airport it is a must. In Alicante it was not that bad. I think I got four hours of sleep and the rest of the time I was listening to my i-pod or reading. I was even able to make all my classes the next day.

Next time I do it I am going to plan a lot better. If you are interested, my friend just posted an interesting website on facebook that has great airport sleeping tips, http://www.sleepinginairports.net/tips. Since Kristen is flying in late when she comes to Spain I may be joining her to sleep in the airport (I am such an amazing friend, aren’t I?) and I may have to try some of these tips! Let me know what you think.

Riding solo!

The next day Kristen and I set off bright and early! First we caught me, and a picture of the running man!

This guy ain't got nothing on me!

Then, we were off and running to the Acropolis. This semester one of my spanish classes was Greek and Roman art so I had learned all about the Acropolis. It was so nice to learn about something and then get to see it in real life. I felt like I was younger and got to go on a field trip. I really miss field trips.

Here are some pics of the beauty that is the Acropolis...

 What I imagined typical Greece would be like...

After we had taken a sufficient amount of pictures at the top of Athen's we went down to take a serious picture at the changing of the guard...

serious face

We then took the long tram, and bus ride back to Kristen's apartment where we dropped off our luggage and prepared to go to the beach...First, we had to get a gyro for lunch. It was yummy and only 2 euros! Then we were off again to Yabanaki beach. It was some random beach on the way to the Temple of Poseidon. We just got off at what looked like a good place. It was pretty windy so we ended up writing postcards to Breezy and Kyle!

Afterwards we headed back to her apartment and stayed up all night until I had to leave for the airport at around 4:30a.m. It really wasn't our brightest move ever, but it was fun:) I had such a wonderful time in Greece and I feel so lucky that this is one of the countries I was able to go to. I have to say a big thank you to the Horton family for letting me crash their trip. I could never have gone to Greece without them!!!

Who needs an island, when you've got Poseidon...

Forgive me for that really cheesy title, but I couldn't help myself...I enjoy a good rhyme:)

As you would know, if you read my last post (if you didn't, you should) the Hortons and I went to bed dreaming of the sweet island adventures we would be having the next day. Little did we know that the company Mrs. Horton so dutifully booked, would be a royal  _ _ _ _-up! Fill in the blank.

It turns out that they told Mrs. Horton the wrong time so we were late to arrive at the meet-up point.

*Mrs. Horton do you happen to know the company name...so I can bash them on my blog? Because 1000's of people read it and I know it will make a huge difference in their business.

Obviously, we were all disappointed. We trekked our way back to the apartment, and had to come up with Plan B. I have to say, at the time it seemed a little daunting, considering that any Plan B we came up with would be hard-pressed to be as awesome as the island visits aforementioned. But, that my friends, is not the way of thinking that gets anybody moving in the right direction. Things happen, and for the Hortons it seems to have been one of those vacations where things just kept happening to try and keep them down. However, I was really impressed because they all seemed to enjoy themselves, and as my Grandma would say, "make lemonade out of lemons." In the spirit of this vacation here comes....you guessed it...

TIP #8: Not just when you are on vacation, but in everyday life things are bound to surprise you. The dominos don't all fall, the cards don't always line up. This is what is so wonderful/frustrating about life. You have to take things as they come, and remember to keep a good attitude. We could have all let this ruin our day, but we didn't. Instead, it has become one of many fond memories I have of Greece, and the Horton family.

Kristen and I set off straight away looking in the travel books searching for something else to do. We stumbled upon the Temple of Poseidon and ran to the bus station managing to clamber on a bus going in the right direction. Trust me people...this was not an easy feat when you don't speak Greek, and spirits are flagging.

Here we are on the bus where I managed to embarrass everyone and take a picture of them in their happy spirits, or at least, pretend happy spirits:)

Happy Hortons

The ride to the temple was b-e-a-utiful! There were all these little coves, and crystal clear waters. I enjoyed the bus ride! When we did reach the temple we were all hungry and sat down for lunch. The food was delicious. I tried another greek specialty recommended by Kristen, called Moussaka.

Moussaka

We then headed up to the temple where I was charged with getting a good picture of the Hortons. Let me tell you this was no simple mission. Mr. Horton is a good photographer, and he was a tad bit picky about how I took a picture. First, I was accused of making the pillar come out of someone's head, then it was a little too zoomed in, etc. Did I say tad bit picky? I happen to think I take great pictures, don't you?

Mr. Horton posing... he loves his pictures

Kristen being some sort of animal, nice action shot!

Now, these are just a sample, but if you are interested call me. My rate is very affordable.

There was this wonderful grassy area and cliff on the other side of the temple, and we got some great pictures. Here is one of me and my BFFL!

The hills are alive...

Once, we were done visiting the temple we headed back into Athens and visited the flea market. Then we were hungry again, it is a constant problem. We went to a restaurant recommended by George, the wonderful taxi driver. I had another greek specialty, I have no idea what it is called but it was finger-licking good!

It turned into a great day, but we were all a little sad because Stephen, and Mr. and Mrs. Horton were leaving to fly home the next day. Kristen and I would be riding solo...

COME AND GET THEM!

That next morning we ate breakfast by 7:30 and left by 8:00 a.m. to go see three more monasteries. Again, even though they were all similar, I think we broke longest time records in a few of them. We had a lot of fun exploring, taking pictures, and admiring the views. George had to keep us on strict time limits so we didn’t spend too much time in each monastery. This day involved a little more exercise since it was a trek to reach the entrance to some of the monasteries…lots of stair stepping. Here is a picture of the biggest monastery. Notice that I appear a lot cleaner in this picture…

I love this picture with the largest monastery and a hint of the snowy  mountains in the background

The next few hours we spent exploring the monastery…some highlights:

I happened to find a nice monk and he took a great picture with the Hortons! Now you know what the monks looked like.

Nicest monk around! (second christmas pic anyone?)

Also, in this same monastery there was a man who got behind these ropes and started making googly monster faces…it was hysterical. He had glasses that just amplified his eyes. I tried to get a picture of him because I never wanted to forget what he looked like but I missed the shot. So…I tried to recreate it…

Pretty much an epic fail he looked so much weirder and funnier than I did

Apparently no one in the monasteries is as tall as Mr. Horton. It turned out to be quite dangerous for him.

Ouch!

Shenanigans....

didn't quite make this one haha

showoff!

I am sure from the pictures above you can surmise why we may have had problems with some of the time limits. However, we made our way down the mountain and headed out of Meteora. We were lucky enough to have two more stops. The first was at a place where they made the icons that went in the churches of the monasteries and other famous churches around the world. Here is a photo. The Hortons purchased a very beautiful icon if you ever get the chance to see it!

This man actually signed the back of the Horton's icon!

The second stop was at a very historical place made even more famous by the movie 300. You guessed it…we went to the infamous battle site where Leonidas, king of Sparta, faced off against the Persian army. Welcome to Thermopyles.

Tribute to the Spartan soldiers who gave their lives...

Monument to Leonidas

We were all pretty exhausted when we got dropped off back at the apartment so we went to dinner. My first real greek gyro, delicious! 

Then we went to bed for the big island day ahead of us…or so we thought.

Paños, What did he do to you?

I did finally make it to Athens and Mr. and Mrs. Horton were waiting for me when I came out. It was so great to see them! This night Kristen, Stephen, and I had planned to go out to see the nightlife in Athens,

but since I arrived so late they had to leave without me. Mr. and Mrs. Horton took the taxi straight to where Stephen and Kristen were, and I was still able to participate in the night’s festivities. (Thank you so much Hortons!)

The next morning we got up, on about two hours of sleep, and boarded a van for Meteora. It was a four-hour drive to our destination, and I loved every second of it. I know what you are thinking… you are thinking I had an awesome nap. Nope, napping is for weaklings. My best friend and I got to have much needed girl talk for four hours. I am not too sure that the rest of the Horton family enjoyed are giggling and inane conversations, but I certainly did.

When we arrived in Meteora, George the Taxi driver dropped us off at a fabulous restaurant and I not only had my first taste of Greek food but also a fun cultural experience. In this restaurant you go into the kitchen and “Momma” tells you what is what, and that everything tastes wonderful (which is true) and then asks you what you would like. It may be a little hard to imagine so here are some photos. She looked exactly like I would picture a Greek mom would, she was so at home in the kitchen. I can’t remember exactly what this meat was (a little help Horton family?) but the peas were so good, and I don’t normally like peas all that much.

Momma in the kitchen...she is so cute!

Stephen and Mrs. Horton picking out their food...

first greek meal...delicious peas and mystery meat (a.k.a I forgot what it was... I think pork)!!!

After we ate, George took us to our hotel to drop off our bags. It was run by a family and was extremely comfortable and elegant. We  just had time to drop off our bags before we went to visit the first monastery. These monasteries are located up on huge rocks and it was breathtaking. I remember when we got out of the van George said we wouldn’t need more than an hour and would probably be done in 45 minutes or less. Boy did we prove him wrong. We were in the monastery for more than an hour. In fact, I think we set some sort of record. That’s right we like to break records:)

Honestly, I have never seen anything quite like these monasteries. They were peaceful and stunning. The aura around them was something else. I feel a little lame saying this, but I wish I knew how to do yoga or was in touch with meditation because it had to be one of the best places to have a spiritual or unearthly connection. It was so hard to capture on film, but take a look for yourself.

Holy Monastery of St. Stephen (of course we had to visit Stephen's namesake) 

The Horton's plus one...

In the monasteries women have to wear skirts, which are provided, by the monastery. Some interesting things about the monasteries:

Exhibit A: The Toilets

I don't think further words are necessary. However, I would like to give a shout out to Mrs. Horton who was the only women in the group to brave this contraption. I would also like to point out Stephen had a profound theory. He surmised that the nuns didn't wear underwear and that is how they were able to go to the bathroom with ease. After all they are minimalists, right?

Exhibit B: Alarm Clock

·    

The nuns are woken up by hammering on a wooden block at four in the morning. That people, is what I like to call, serious dedication to your craft. 

Exhibit C: No Photos in the church

·      You are not allowed to take pictures in the churches. Of course, double-trouble next to me decided she needed a praying picture in the chapel (very reverent). Whom, do you think, the nun scolded for taking a picture? That would be me! 

The best thing that happened in this monastery was that the namesake, Stephen, with the wonderful theories on the use of the bathrooms, actually scored some free postcards. How, you ask? Well a nun happened to be carrying some large boxes, and Stephen offered to help. He carried the boxes for her and returned a short time later. About two minutes after Stephen came back the nun came by with some free postcards and thanked him profusely, in some of the only English she knew, “Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!” Later she told Mrs. Horton what great kids she had.

Stephen making his mom proud…

 After Kristen and I were showed up by Stephen's good manners we headed back down the mountain to take a 2 hour break before dinner. All three of us were exhausted, and when we got back to the room we pretty much collapsed on the bed. One of my favorite quotes from Greece came about in this moment. We were all laying there and Kristen says, "I feel like we are Kings and Queens, this hotel is amazing." Abruptly after we hear Stephen's abrupt response, "Kristen, I'm on a futon." 

Since I was on the trip, Kristen and I shared the bed, and Stephen had the futon:)

I took a shower, since worse than being tired, was the feeling of  my germ-infested body. I had traveled in the airport, and been on airplanes all day è then I went directly to a club è followed by a four-hour ride to a monastery. Finally, at a place where there was a shower, I was so happy to no longer smell like an ashtray. 

That night we went to dinner at another place George had recommended. This time George joined us to eat, and he was full of insight into the Greek culture. In addition to his insight he was hilarious. Some of the best one-liners of the trip were provided by George. A few of my favorites were at this dinner...

Mr. and Mrs. Horton were talking about how Mrs. Horton sleeps as still as a statue, and how Mr. Horton moves and wiggles all over the place while sleeping. George, in all seriousness, commented that "it would be impractical," for both of the Hortons to move. I don't know if it was his accent or how calmly he said it, but the logic of it took us all aback.

George explained to us at this dinner that dogs were treated very differently in Greece. The people tend to adopt a dog, but leave it on the street. They put a collar on it and feed it every day but then they just leave it be. It was fascinating to see a country treating their dogs so well. When I went to Chile it was quite the opposite. The dogs were in a bad way, all of them starving, sick, and unhealthy. I hadn't noticed, that all the dogs roaming Athens, were very healthy looking. Until George told us how the Greeks treated them I hadn't thought about it. The Greek people are very culturally different in many ways then any country I have been to. It is so much fun to realize how different we all are, and how exciting that makes the world. 

On the topic of dogs, George told us a story about how he was once on a tour waiting for his group to come out of a tourist stop; he saw two dogs fighting. Two bus drivers who were loading up their vans immediately jumped into the fray while the onlooking tourists watched in astonishment. The drivers proceeded to break up the dogs and have a conversation with them about their behavior:

The bus driver, yelling at the dog, asks it, "Paños, what did he do to you?"...apparently along with feeding the dogs they also name them and talk to them as if they are humans:) The tourists got a nice show that day!

Here are some photos of the great food we ate at dinner during our conversations...

Fried cheese thing that was ohhhh so good!

Chiken Souvlaki....yummyness

After this we went and got some gelato before heading back to the hotel. I remember on the way back to the van I was talking to Mr. Horton and saying how it would be interesting to live up in the monastery for a few days. He told me that he didn't really have any desire to do this and I asked him why. He said, "They try and take all temptation out of their lives. We only have one life, and I want to enjoy it." It was a different perspective then I had ever heard. I have always wanted to try living in a Tibetan monastery or something like that. I think to test my control, find out who you really are, break everything down to see if you would enjoy your own company. Mr. Horton's answer was thought provoking and it was something to think about over the next few days...