So there I was, earbuds in, travel pillow strapped around my neck, when I realized there were still nine hours left on this flight.
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Yes, folks, I recently took a trip. Didja miss me? Didja notice I was gone? Probably not, but I missed you, Riverbend, and I’m happy to be back.
I’ll tell you all about my trip in next week’s blog, but first, I’m giving myself some much-deserved kudos for those first two days of travel, when I spent literally 48 hours getting to my destination.
The fun began on a Thursday morning, when my very kind father dropped off my friend and me at the airport and we boarded a flight to Toronto. I’ve never been to Canada before, but I was nervous and pumped in equal parts. Excited for where the day was taking me, terrified about handling the airport and the plane ride.
I am a nervous flier. I learned this when I traveled to Colorado a few years ago, and again when I navigated LAX by myself. But those trips helped build my confidence. If I can do California solo, I reasoned, surely I can manage a long flight and TSA and customs.
The stress started many weeks in advance. I looked up how to best prepare for a long flight and found myself ordering compression socks — compression socks! — to manage the swelling I was sure to experience.
I also splurged on the aforementioned neck pillow, a luxury I’ve never allowed myself before but reasoned might actually be worth it for a transatlantic flight. I even bought a portable charger to ensure my phone and earbuds remained charged and usable. I was gearing up.
The flight to Toronto took about two hours. Not bad at all, compared to what was to come. Our three-hour layover in Toronto was jam-packed with finding food, filling water bottles, and watching the World Cup as we waited to board the plane once more. And then we were on a nine-hour flight to Athens.
Again: nervous flier. I closed my eyes as we ascended. And then we were in the air, and the flight attendants were passing out warmed-over airplane dinners, and I was queueing up “Bridesmaids” to watch on the little TV screen built into the seat in front of me. Not bad at all.
Luckily, I passed out not long after this and awoke when we were an hour out from our destination. And then we arrived and followed the mostly-Greek signs in the airport to baggage claim and out onto the streets of Athens.
We had arranged for a car to pick us up, so we were fortunate to catch a ride from the airport to the ferry port. That’s right, dear reader; our journey wasn’t over yet. We had an hourlong car ride through the city and then a five-hour ferry ride ahead of us.
The ferry was fascinating. We sat in seats similar to an airplane’s row but with seaside views. We jetsetted across the Aegean Sea to a little island called Naxos off the Greek coast. It was exhilarating to realize most of the conversations happening around me were in a language I don’t speak. I was in for a wild ride.
Our plane landed in Athens around 2 p.m. Greek time on Friday (that’s 6 a.m. St. Louis time). By the time we got through the airport and onto the ferry and landed in Naxos, it was nearing midnight and pitch black outside except for the city lights on the water.
We met our rental car folks and loaded up the trunk, so full that the backseat was unusable. And then our group split in half as two of our group headed up the hill to the Airbnb to unload the luggage and three of us remained in downtown Naxos, waiting for our ride. And so we began to walk, enjoying the sights of the town (still bustling even after midnight!) and stopping in for some late-night ice cream.
It was about 1 a.m. by the time we finally got up to the Airbnb, and that concluded my literally 48 hours' worth of travel. But it was absolutely worth it. The rest of the week was full of trying new foods, walking over 10,000 steps a day in Birkenstocks (don’t recommend), snorkeling in the Aegean Sea (highly recommend), and exploring Greece.
A once-in-a-lifetime trip, with an equally impressive journey to get there and back. That 48 hours of travel time was intense but worth every minute.
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