There are no free lunches….

I would never have imagined a year ago that I would be going to Greece, but to Greece I went. It’s funny where life takes you. This flight was my first solo flight in Europe and it turned out to be quite the experience. It all started with this nice old man offering to buy me a cup of coffee, and of course like anyone else would think, I thought, “this vacation is getting off to a fabulous start, going without a hitch.”

Then, I missed my connector flight. And then I had my first, and hopefully my last, public breakdown in Spain. I guess the moral of this story is, when a nice old man offers to buy you’re coffee in the airport, be afraid…be very afraid.

Details? …You want details?

Oh all right…

I made my flight out of Alicante airport and into Madrid airport, but the flight was running 20 minutes late and I only had 40 minutes to get to my next gate. Adding onto this I was in the back of the plane, the extreme back, as in the last row. Concerned that I would miss my connector I turned to the Iberian flight attendant and asked if I would be able to make it. She assured me I would, as long as I ran, once I debarked. She lied. I am still quite upset about that. Turns out that I should have pushed and shoved past all the wonderful people in my plane, but being the trusting person I am I believed I would be fine if I ran once I got off my flight. After I was finally in the airport I ran to my gate, which happened to be the gate right next to the one I got off of. Literally, it was the next gate over, and I could have only missed them closing the doors by about five minutes. I know this because I happened to see someone walking in through the clear glass ramp as I was begging the two people manning the gate to let me through. It was like a scene in those romantic movies when the man is running to catch the woman he loves, but before he reaches his destination, he is held up by someone or something. I must have looked very similar to that hopeless, helpless romantic. At that point, I certainly felt hopeless and helpless.

Those unhappy employees at the gate directed me to Iberia’s customer service. This part is a bit shameful. Instead of channeling my mother, who can cajole the outcome she wants out of most situations, I started sobbing. Especially, when the woman told me I might have to spend the night in Madrid. A red nose, running mascara, and lots of sniffles later I had a free 15-euro lunch, and a plane flight to land in Athens at 11:30p.m. (7 hours later than originally planned).

The one good thing that came out of this situation: I now understand the true meaning of the phrase,  “there are no free lunches.”

Don’t you just love that about getting older? You finally get to understand things you always wish you did when you were younger, just in time to realize, you don’t want to understand.

View of Athens at night:) Don't worry my trip only went up from here...