Outside the Acropolis Greece was amazing. The moment we left the USA the student riots went into high gear and we stumbled right smack into the middle of a boat strike, the longest in a lifetime according to the locals, and were stuck on the island of Paros for a few days longer than initially planned.
Even with all that it was absolutely, breathtakingly, fantastic.
We made it by on the kindness of strangers, the people at the inn in Meteora arranged a moped rental for us after hours when the owner of all the mopeds had left for "Motocross" or somesuch.
The kind lady outside the airport on Paros, who recognized we were clueless American tourists told us to sign our names on the waiting list so we could get onto the only plane that was leaving the island that day.
There were stray cats and (large!) homeless dogs everywhere. There was also graffiti everywhere. Outside ancient monuments and along the crumbling walls of antiquity, a sort of cultural slamming of the new and problematic with the old and beautiful.
Still, once you got outside of the city, it was amazing.
Here is Meghan taking pictures of us on the moped in Paros. At first I am not ready, then I am mad because she keeps clicking pictures. I made that middle face a lot on this trip.
I climbed so! many! stairs! and mountainsides, and island roads, and my ass feels fantastic. I just have to tell you. Seriously, go on vacation to a place where you have to climb around all day in the most epic surroundings you can find and when you get home your legs and bottom will feel like they are 23 again. I am flexing my cheeks for you now...
Meghan was fun to travel with. We got along splendidly. She only snapped at me once, telling me it was my hair that was blowing in her face. Please do see the film evidence below:
My hair? Oh, Really.It had been a rather stressful day and I was, by that point, drinking wine out of a plastic bottle at roughly 9 in the morning (it was 2am here, drinking wine at 2am is a perfectly acceptable practice). We were not sure we would ever make it off Paros-catraz, our island prison, and so tensions were high.
At the monasteries we had to wrap long skirt over our pants (all the ladies had to) and here, for your viewing pleasure is me in a dress:
Also, rather remarkably, no one, not a single person in all of Greece thought I was a dude. I am constantly mistaken for a guy in the USA, especially when I am entering a women's bathroom. Ladies routinely do a double take, or check the sign over the door to make sure they are in the right place and rather often waiters will address me as "sir."
Not once this happen in Greece. It was so strange to me. And sort of cool.
Across the street from Hadrian's ArchIt was the perfect way for me to celebrate my arrival in the 30's. What some folks argue is the best decade of your life. I have to say, from this vantage point, things are looking pretty good so far.
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
~Tana
(who is older than rocks)
