Greece Is The Word . . . .

By Dan

Remember the theme from a previous entry of ch-ch-changes? Well, it is continuing. Thursday night the 11th, we said arrividerci to Italy, hopping on Aegean Air for the short flight from Rome to Athens. (For those of you who remember the old routine of taking the train from Rome to Brindisi, and then a ferry across to Greece, times have changed: tickets for the 90 minute flight cost about 25% of what the 18 hour land/sea journey cost. Maybe some economist can explain that to me. Go figure.) Athens Airport is modern and slick, and but it all felt very new and foreign as we were surrounded by Greek writing and, generally, a different look. It was a long drive to our hotel, made much more entertaining by a friendly taxi driver who spoke English only a small bit better than I speak Greek, but who was convinced that we were bonding in a big way. His fancy touch screen set-up in his taxi let him play a variety of traditional Greek songs for us, give us a tour of Greece on the GPS map, and encourage us to try raki (much better than ouzo, if I understood correctly) at every opportunity. I’d have preferred that he keep both hands on the wheel, but lacked the vocabulary to make that request. We even got a distant view of the Acropolis, at no extra charge. Definitely a good introduction to Greece!

We had done www.Priceline.com again, for our one night in Athens, and had ended up at the Intercontinental, which was absolutely lovely. Too bad it was 1 am, and we weren’t really in a position to appreciate it! Walking in the front door, looking a little scruffy (well, as you have seen from photos, I always look very scruffy these days), dragging our duffel bags, we passed some well-dressed folks in suits and dresses leaving a party or something. I had this odd feeling of not belonging at a nice hotel – knowing that in my prior life, I would have been perfectly appropriate being there, and that in my future life, I would again, but not right now. It is sort of strange, but sort of cool, to be able to morph from one sort of traveler to another as we go through this trip – we’ll be low budget dirtbags from time to time, but slightly more well-heeled (despite appearances to the contrary) every once in a while. The Intercontinental was a very nice 12 hour pause with plenty of space, loads of clean towels, and even a 110 volt outlet so that Grayson could charge his GameBoy for the first time since leaving California.