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Unfortunately, I spent most of the past school year mourning the loss of my wasted summer, a summer with (almost) three months in it that were all spent in Texas. Boring! This was instead of traveling to a new place, as my mission had been for every break I have. I spent the summer mooning over a boy. Not the best use of my time.

I was determined not to repeat the scenario this summer, and so it was that my friend Maria, a pharmacist was left without a new place to visit for the summer, and I, slightly terrified of traveling to Europe alone, said this.

“Why don’t you come to Greece with me?”

“OK!”

I wasn’t expecting to get that response.

But I rolled with it, and because of that I had a proper adventure this summer.

We had a time getting into Dallas, and then making a pit stop. Our friend Nathalie driving us went in an exit only section and just managed to squeeze by a long line of annoyed drivers who pretended they didn’t have room for her to get by.

If only I knew how much I would struggle with that stupid bag…

We made it to the airport, and a suspicious TSA worker asked if I was eighteen. Considering the fact she was about to have my passport in her hands, I was wry and said, “I’m twenty three ma’am.”

“That was a yes or no question, I don’t need to know you’re 23.” She said sternly, checked my passport and stared at it a moment longer than necessary. She handed it back to me and waved me away, ready to harass more baby faced women. Maria glided through the line without a word.

We had our connection flight in Canada. Before boarding our nearly eight hour flight, Maria and I headed to Starbucks to get a sandwich and a coffee. When my turn came in line, with a rather boring appearing ham sandwich in hand, the cashier took in no doubt my young face. “The sandwich is eleven dollars. Do you still want it?”

Actually I’m a little offended you assumed I can’t afford an eleven dollar sandwich. Just because I was stopped at the security checkpoint and sternly asked if I was old enough to be alone and was told “it’s a yes or no question,”, and am dressed in a DC ensemble shirt with Wonder Woman that Maria went between calling a “Batman” and “Superman” T-shirt doesn’t mean I can’t afford the damn sandwich.

But you know what I did? I didn’t buy the sandwich. I don’t like any kind of lunch meat that much.

One of the not so great things about our first day was struggling with my luggage, the eyes of other people lingering on me while I pulled on the handle which was stubbornly stuck inside and simultaneously kicked the bag. Everything went much smoother for Maria, so I stole the window seat on the international flight to compensate. She was unconcerned, and fell fast asleep with me staring at the dirty line in the ceiling and wondering “is this mold? Do they know this is here?”

One of the definite perks of our flight was dealing with actual babies/children screaming, just like in the movies. I wasn’t sure if I was annoyed or excited to be a part of a stereotype. Our flight was full of snoring men, a trio of exhausted teenagers, opportunist line cutters (seriously? How uncouth of you), the overly romantic couple that couldn’t stop kissing/stroking each other, and the frustrating reality of notifications on your phone with no real result in the end, just reminders of things technology is hiding from you. One thing that you discover about airport Wi-Fi is that it doesn’t actually work most of the time. I love not being able to use my technology…

And I thought we were tired…

We didn’t sleep much on our eight hour flight. The overly touchy couple were conversing with a loud woman next to them about how much they love cheese (how did they get to this topic of discussion? Did I actually care, or just want them to shut the hell up?). And it was so that when we arrived in Athens at nine AM Maria and I were exhausted and grateful we weren’t allowed sharp things on our flight, otherwise we might have found ourselves poking the cheese lovers.

We took two trains to arrive at Acropolis, the stop of our hotel, which had an amazing view of the site. The hotel did not want to accept the fact our travel agent had paid for the reservation ahead of time, and insisted on charging my card. Seeing as I had already paid for it, paying my travel agent, I was deservingly miffed and irritated.

We took a short walk from our hotel and found a cute little place where Maria ordered some gyro (she insisted on pronouncing it guy-ro despite my corrections) and I a traditional Greek sandwich. It was just the pick me up we needed after a long night of travel.

It had been an emotional start to our vacation, because when I tried to pull cash from an ATM my card wouldn’t work. I ended up paying 9 euros for a quick international call to Discover to fix it, and then Maria and I took a much needed rest from our day.

Our day had included the oh so sweet nap, checking in issues, money issues, but following the nap was a classy dinner. We were fed excellent food, and plied with free wine and one shot of some kind of licorice flavored liquor.

Our waiter decided he wanted to be in the shot.

I flirted with the young, cute restaurant worker (it was a family restaurant and he was the nephew) who had called us to the restaurant, and the mother and daughter we were sitting with suggested he take us out. We waited for him to get off of work, then he and the restaurant’s cook drove us by scooter to Why Sleep, a dance club. The ride was exhilarating, more fun than the actual dancing. I could have just continued to ride through the city of Athens all night, with the wind wiping my hair back and giving me that exhilarating feeling. As for my driver, I don’t remember his name, but it’s because it wasn’t a name I already knew, like Kevin. Let’s call him Kevin. Kevin was unfortunately a smoker, as most Greek men seemed to be, and so I planned for that to be my last close interaction with a guy in Greece.

Of course, we did make sure and ask if they were serial killers first. 

After a good bit of dancing, Maria and I left, and our friend made sure to talk to the taxi driver so he wouldn’t overcharge us, an unfortunately frequent occurrence there. We made our way back and promptly collapsed and fell asleep. It was a full day!

Summary

1. Get hit on by your waiter. It will end well. VERY well. Not that well, I can tell you’re going there in your line of thinking. I mean he’ll end up driving you through the city of Athens on his scooter, which was more fun than the place he took you before dropping you off at your hotel. Plus, free transit!
2. Divani Palace Acropolis is a nice hotel with archaic, non-flexible rules, which aren’t a way to do business. If it was paid online, HONOR IT.
3. Always get euros before you leave for Greece. Way too many places don’t take cards.
4. Make sure you don’t take faulty luggage. You will struggle with that huge suitcase all over the country and everyone will laugh at you.
5. If you can, bring ear plugs on flights-to avoid the cheese-lovers

1. “Going Home for the Summer Archives – NYU Local.” NYU Local. N.p., n.d. Web. 12 Aug. 2016.