Greece

A few days later than planned, here are the photos from Greece.

I've now been to Greece twice, and both times, I had trouble getting there.  Last year, there was a national general strike the day I was due to fly in, so I spent an entire afternoon on the phone attempting to get a new flight that would not result in me being stuck in Frankfurt airport for an indeterminate number of days.  This time, the baggage check-in wasn't working in Berlin, so they had to do it all manually, plus you had to stand there while they scanned the checked luggage before you could go to security.  We had to run for the gate and made it about with about two minutes to spare before they opened the airplane.  Then, because of a runway delay, we were half an hour late leaving Berlin and thus half an hour late getting to Crete.

Where there was a taxi strike.  Of course.  We hunted down the bus stop at the airport, which of course was out of service.  Thankfully, an extremely helpful transit employee showed us to the next bus stop, which was, by his estimate, two kilometres down the road.  We basically sprinted the whole way, because the next bus was the last one of the day: if we missed it, we were going to have the fortunate experience of sleeping in Heraklion airport.  And don't forget: this is with luggage, in 30 C heat, not to mention the humidity.  But we made it, incredibly.  I still can't believe it.  And we successfully located the town where we were stayed, and our hotel.

Crete was wonderful: I'd go back there in a heartbeat.  Not in August again, though.  Never ever ever.  I'm just not meant for 35 C and humidity so thick that you feel like you're walking through Jello.  March in Greece was far nicer: warm enough that you could go out in a T-shirt and shorts, but not so warm that walking for five minutes makes you feel like you're going to die.  I'd rent a car, too.  We hadn't planned on it, but the tourism industry in Greece is desperate at the moment.  The middle of the summer, and restaurants and hotels were dead.  I couldn't believe it.  The prices in the souvenir shops have dropped considerably from what they were 18 months ago, and the restaurants want your business so badly that we kept getting all kinds of freebies.  Free water (okay, so this isn't all that expensive, but you generally pay for water in Europe), free wine, free ouzo.  Car rentals on Crete are dirt cheap, too: one air-conditioned car for one day, which saved us a lengthy bus ride to Knossos (where there's a 4000 year old Minoan palace) and back, plus several cab rides up to the hotel, which was beautiful, but inconveniently located at the top of a very, very steep hill, more than paid for itself.

After a few days, we took a ferry to Santorini.  Speaking of things I'm never ever doing again...  It didn't help that it was the high-speed ferry, so it zips from Heraklion to Santorini in a little under two hours.  Your luggage is on the deck, which you can't get do... as we learned when we realized that the Gravol was in the luggage.  Oops.  We should've known, since both Stefan and I are prone to motion sickness, but I've never had a problem on a boat before, so I figured I'd be fine.  My mistake.  So I have nothing to report about the view on the ferry or anything like that, because I spent most of the ride with my head tilted back, fanning myself with the safety card from the seat pocket in front of me, trying to convince myself that I wasn't going to be sick.

Santorini, however, is totally worth it.  It's insanely steep: a volcanic eruption (plus accompanying earthquakes) ripped the centre out of a circular island about 3700 years ago, leaving the crescent-shaped island that exists today, with extremely steep cliffs on the side facing the volcano.  The sky and sea really are that blue, and so many of the houses are painted that lovely white, with brightly coloured doors.  A bit more touristy and expensive than Crete, but still wonderful.  And I didn't even go to any archaeological sites!  (To be fair, I considered it, but after five days in Greece, I was far too hot and thought that lying by the pool all afternoon sounded like a better use of my time.)

One thing we did notice: people make horrific fashion choices while on vacation.  Skimpy clothes that are far too small for them, transparent animal-print rompers (oh, there's a picture of her in the album, because it was just that horrendous).  And the orange!  Why, oh, why do people tan themselves to be that fake, gross shade of orange?  It looks terrible, particularly as so many women pair it with platinum-fake-blond hair.  Women are ridiculous sometimes.  Men aren't much better: I saw more than one man who had decided that it was so hot that he should pull the bottom of his T-shirt through the neckline, making a crop top.  No one needs to see that, especially when one has a considerable beer belly.

Anyway, after Crete, we flew to Athens.  This was better than the ferry (and cheaper, oddly), except that the Australian woman in front of me had decided in the airport terminal that it would be an excellent plan to spritz herself with approximately half a bottle of perfume.  At least twenty sprays, believe me.  Good thing it was only a half-hour flight.  Travelling would be lovely if there weren't so many people around :P

Athens is... well, Athens is not the prettiest city in the world.  I really don't think I'd go back again.  I've seen the museums, I've seen the archaeological sites, and beyond that, there's very little to see.  Well, there's the graffiti.  And the benches in the main square, Syntagma -- which is right in front of parliament, the square that you always see on TV -- that were torn up during the demonstrations earlier in the summer, presumably to be used to throw at riot police.  And the riot police, of course.  Lots and lots of riot police.  And a burned-out magazine kiosk, which still smelled of smoke, and the formerly-glass windows of the main post office, which are currently made of corrugated metal (I assume they'd been smashed in).  Not that I ever felt unsafe -- there are so many police around that you really don't worry -- but it's still not the nicest city in the world.

But after three weeks of busy, busy days, and a week of intense heat, I was ready to go home.  I like travelling, but two and a half weeks is about my limit.  You really can only see so much until your brain just can't process any more.  Plus, we've been doing so much travelling lately that it's nice to sleep in my own bed for a change.

More pictures coming soon: since we got back, I've already been to Wales, England, and The Hague, because apparently I can't stay home for more than two weeks ;)