Welcome to Italy, Mum and Dad!

Sunday was an early start. Very early.

We had a flight to catch at 6:30 a.m. from an airport an hour outside of the city, which meant a taxi at 4 a.m.

Jay made me the English tea I had failed to drink all weekend. It was fantastic and now part of my daily routine. Despite the caffeine, the travel was largely a blur. I sat between my parents on the way to the airport and was practically lulled to sleep by the street markers rhythmically disappearing underneath the car in front of me.

The airport was far more busy than we were expecting. We started to get worried as we waited in line to check in. We had assumed the weight limit would be the same or close to what it was for their flight from the US. I was wrong.

We were 7-8 kilos over the 15-kilo weight limit for each of their 50-pound bags. (And they gave me a hard time for two 50-pound bags for four months) The charge was £20 per kilo overweight. It would have neared $500 in fees. Instead we ended up doing the same thing I did in Greece: pay for an extra suitcase instead of extra weight. We were going to be cutting it close. We ran around the corner and found the cheapest biggest bag we could. It was a rolling duffle for £40. Perfect. As my mom and I threw stuff from suitcase to suitcase in a tornado of clothes and belongings, my dad ran across the open area to a scale, frantically weighing one at a time for 1 pound.

He’d come hurtling back with our verdict. “One more kilo in here! Give me another one.”

With some random stuff shoved into our carry-ons (My mom took one of my boots on the plane. Only one), we ran back to the check-in counter. The man let us line jump, and we reweighed our luggage. 15.4, 14.7, 14.9.

Close enough.

Even better, my mom had already paid for a third bag for me when she bought the tickets. I only brought my backpack for the weekend, figuring it would save us stress and money. It still did.

On to security! I hopped from one foot to the other, anxious to get through in time, but we did. We ran all the way to our gate, barreling down the final empty hallway only to practically run into the long line to board. We stood around for 10 minutes before walking outside and up to the plane.

We took Ryan Air, which is a free-for-all for seats, but my mom and I found some next to each other. I settled in with my cough drops and bottle of water and dozed for most of the flight. We landed in Pisa around 9:30 a.m., welcomed with Ryan Air’s customary triumphant landing music I had heard about.

My parents resituated our luggage again and shoved our carry-ons into our newly acquired duffle as I went to buy bus tickets into town. I snacked on the banana I bought as I led them out to the bus stop, asking a couple times for directions to the right one. The bus arrived soon, but we were nearly the first one to sit down. Thank goodness, because we were more of sardines than passengers. People were trying to get on by pushing against the wall of people inside with all the force they could muster. Eventually the doors closed on these people and we were off.

When we got to the train station, we walked to the end to drop off our luggage. It was about €3 per bag for the day if I remember correctly. Relieved to be rid of our extra weight at least for a little bit, we headed toward the Leaning Tower of Pisa! It was nice to know the way this time, after having been there in January. Before we got too far, the first order of business was caffeine. We all needed it.

We took a pit stop in a small café that seemed to be the only one open for three cappuccinos and three pastries.

As we approached the Arno, I could hear shouting and cheering. We got closer and saw there was some sort of race going on. A few people were scattered along the wall

Some people who appeared to have finished the race/run were jogging back to run alongside people in support. We walked along trying to stay out of their way.

My parents kept noticing small things, like the shutters on the windows and the plants sitting on balconies. It was cool to see them have similar reactions as my CCI family and I had when we came here for our first trip this semester.

Rita!

We rounded the corner to see the tower. It’s still just as startling. I’m walking along simple Italian streets and expect to find another one around the corner at the end, but am instead faced with the famous landmark.

I walked around as my parents read signs about the tower. They followed me eventually around the church. We slipped inside the church to find a mass going on! There were several other tourists standing quietly in the back behind the rope that blocked off the aisle. I hadn’t gone inside any of the buildings before, so I’m glad I got to this time. It was really cool to see, but I felt weird. I can’t imagine sitting through church with people watching it behind me.

We walked out and around the baptistery, where we found a place to sit on the grass.

We were exhausted, but I reminded them we had a lot more in store for today, so we better get it together. We walked down the long line of souvenir stands. My mom picked up a few presents for Lorraine and others, and I bought a couple things I missed getting last time.

My parents took the obligatory Pisa pictures before we headed to lunch.

We went back to the same place I got pizza last time. It was just as good. My parents liked it too. My dad said he wasn’t expecting it to be good based on how it looked. It proved its worth.

Don’t judge a pizza by its appearance.

By now we were pretty much done with Pisa. And I was really excited to get to Florence. We decided to take the bus back to the train station just to save time. 

In the end, I’m not sure the bus made a huge difference. The waitress pointed us in the right direction to find the stop, and once there I asked a man at a food stand where to buy tickets. He told me on the bus.

We waited for almost 10 minutes. When we got on I asked him how to pay. He said something about “finito,” and directed me past. I was a little confused, but sat down. I guess that means we pay at the end.

But we didn’t reach that point. About three blocks away from the train station, the driver pulled to a stop and opened the door. He exchanged a couple of words I couldn’t hear with someone standing outside, then without warning bolted. He literally just darted off the bus and took off running — sprinting. The man outside didn’t seem fazed. He just stood around as he was before we pulled up. I looked around at people on the bus. They looked equally confused. I waited a minute or so, but didn’t see any sign of him. “Guess we got a free ride,” I shrugged and led my parents off the bus. It was the strangest thing. It didn’t even cross my mind until now that it was actually April Fool’s Day. What a coincidence.

We walked the rest of the way to the train station. My cough was starting to sound worse, so my dad bought me some cold medicine and cough drops before we caught our ride back to Firenze! My parents napped most of the hour ride, and I dozed off a couple times myself. We got into Santa Maria Novella around 2 p.m. Still plenty of day left! The wonders of waking up at 3:30 a.m.

My parents showed me their address, and I was surprised to realize I actually knew where the street was. I checked with some police just to make sure and took them a couple of blocks away to their Italian home!

They were staying at an apartment owned by Barb’s brother. Barb is the woman my mom backpacked with 30 years ago. The place was absolutely gorgeous and gigantic. It had three bathrooms, two of which had lofts inside of them with desks or beds above, two full baths, an entry way, living room, kitchen, dining room, laundry room (how strange to not have your washer in your kitchen) and the best part: a rooftop terrace.

The entire CCI family could have stayed there. It’d be a little cozy, but we like each other well enough. Just give us a couple of air mattresses.

My parents admitted defeat and took a nap. I took a shower instead to refuel. Eventually we got back out there. We walked into town and around the Duomo. I showed them my school and my apartment before heading up to Piazzale Michelangelo. I wanted to do it that first day, but I didn’t suggest it because I figured they were too tired. My mom actually proposed the idea! My dad wasn’t wearing the right shoes, but we talked him into it. We stopped at Gelateria dei Neri, and I spent everything I had left in my pockets to buy three gelatos.

I hadn’t walked up to Piazzale Michelangelo in about a month. I wish I had time to do it more often. It was beautiful as usual. 

We took our photos and stood around looking over the city. I pointed out everything I knew on the skyline.

Mumsie made friends with Pinocchio

Soon hunger got the best of us, and we walked back down to the city. After a quick pitstop in my apartment, I took them to Osteria del Gatto e la Volpe.

It was delicious as usual. My dad didn’t get exactly what he was looking for, but he had all week for incredible Italian food.

After dinner we walked to Meta so they could have some food for breakfast. I wanted to walk around more, but we were all tired and my dad told me my cough was beginning to sound like the Bubonic Plague. I couldn’t really argue. Over the next week I realized I could literally part a path for me through crowds with the sound of my cough.

I led them to the Duomo, and we said goodbye at the intersection for their street. They were off to Rome for Monday and Tuesday. I wished them a safe trip and walked home.

It was such a great first day in the city. I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did! How could anyone not? We’re in Florence!

Welcome to London!

Thursday evening I landed in London Gatwick Airport around 8 p.m. My parents and I would be staying with my mom’s friend from college, Jay. I called his house to let them know I landed, and would be heading into town on the train.

I exchanged some euros to pounds, crying internally at the exchange rate, and followed a maze of signs to the Gatwick Express.

The train was surprisingly nice with big plush seats. I couldn’t complain. I arrived in Victoria Station about half an hour later and shuffled along toward the exit with the crowd. I saw my dad beyond the gate craning his head to find me. I worked my way through the turnstile to see Jay and my mom nearby.

It was so great to see them again. After many hugs and an introduction to Jay — who I apparently met when I was younger — we headed outside.

Jay caught a taxi for us. He leaned in the left window of the car to talk to the driver. I thought to myself, he’s getting pretty close if he’s leaning through the window. It wasn’t until I climbed into the back of the cab that I remembered being in England meant the driver sits on the right side.

Wait. I’m in England. I’M IN LONDON.

After a few hours in airports and a plane, I hadn’t really thought about where I was going. I got excited all over again.

The taxi ride was short, and we were inside Jay’s beautiful home within about 15 minutes. We never ended up getting to meet his partner, who was in the hospital sick all weekend. Next time I’m in London.

I put my backpack in what would be my room for the next couple of nights, and settled into the couch. Jay brought my parents and I cheese and wine, both of which were delicious, while he made us dinner.

Even though Greece had given me a week-long break from Italian food, it still wasn’t enough. Jay’s dinner of baked potatoes, asparagus and mushrooms was perfect. I wish I could cook that well — or well at all.

We talked for a little while, but my parents, who were still pretty jet-lagged, headed to bed early. I followed shortly. It had been a long day for me too.

Friday morning we woke up to a wonderful breakfast from Jay.

Coffee, fruit, juice, pastries — all delicious and fresh.

It was a good start to the day. We walked out of his flat, and I saw for the first time where I really was. The rows of apartments were exactly how I pictured England. 

We walked through the quiet street to a “tube” station (the metro for those who aren’t up on British lingo). My dad bought us day passes, and we were on our way!

We started off in Trafalgar Square, which I realized was the location of three of my mom’s pictures. I was able to get two while my parents stretched and prepared for our day of walking. Good thing I was off taking pictures. I didn’t have to be associated with this nonsense:

We crossed the street to take the final one. I kept running back and forth from one side to the other, but couldn’t figure out where she took the picture. I’m convinced she was in the middle of the street. I did my best, and we moved on. 

We walked under Admiralty Arch toward Buckingham Palace.

There were several of mumsie's London pictures I just couldn't decipher.
It was fun making her help me figure it out. Gave her a taste of what she
put me through with her strange pictures. Plus it's just nice to have help!

We had time before the Changing of the Guards, so we took our time walking down The Mall — the road that leads to Buckingham. The red road was lined with trees and Union Jack flags. It was picturesque of castles, queens and London.

St. James Park sprawls to the left of The Mall. We meandered through there for a bit. It was more green than I had seen in weeks. Everything was so vibrant, and despite the other people milling about, peaceful.

We headed up to Buckingham and pushed through crowds. My mom and I found a place up at the gates with a good view just in time. A huge group swarmed in and closed in the space behind us. A few minutes later my dad, who had gone to find coffee, found his way toward us. It turns out the Guard Change wouldn’t be happening. It was only every other day during the off-season, and we were there on the wrong day.

Oh well, I still saw Buckingham.

I snapped a quick picture of the guard and squeezed out of the clueless crowd. 

We walked farther past the palace along several streets. I had no idea where we were but didn’t mind.

We ducked into a small café for coffee and tea. I stuck with cappuccino but promised myself I’d try English tea before I left.

By then, we decided it was time to find a double-decker bus tour. We walked a few more blocks until we found a stop for the appropriately named Big Bus Tour. We climbed to the top level and sat in the sun. We listened to a tour guide through headphones plugged into individual radios on the back of all the seats. Each of the eight channels gave the same pre-recorded information about the city in a different language. I tried to listen in Italian a few times throughout the tour, but I wasn’t really getting anything out of it. I still wish I could be bilingual.

We rode up and down streets all full of incredible architecture. I couldn’t tell you the names of any of the countless styles we passed, but they were all beautiful and different from the last.

It turned out to be a great way to see the city. It was the most "touristy" thing I've done here, but there's no way I would have been able to see even a third of what I did if we were walking. Although it was a little cold on top of the bus, I didn't mind.

Marble Arch.

After about an hour and a half, we got off the bus to find more coffee for my dad. It was a hop on/hop off tour, so we’d just catch the next one with our same ticket. We crossed the with the help of reminders written on every intersection telling us which way to look. I hadn’t really thought about the fact that opposite traffic changes where pedestrians need to look. Although we laughed at the signs, they came in handy.

My dad got his coffee — Starbucks of course — and we split a cookie before getting back on the bus. It was a quick, but much-needed pit stop.

We got back on the bus and continued to explore London. Because we saw each place so quickly as we passed, most of what we saw blurred together for me to create one glorious image of London.I wasn't too concerned about separating them in my mind because we were going to be returning to a lot of the key places the following day. 

But we saw just about everything from on top of that bus. Hyde Park, Green Park, Regents Park. Piccadilly Circus, Madame Tussaud's, Victoria and Albert Museum. The BBC, Royal Courts of Justice, the Bank of England. St. Paul's Cathedral, the London Eye, Parliament. Everything.

Royal Courts of Justice

St. Paul's Cathedral

Bank of England

Royal Exchange

We crossed Tower Bridge and got off the bus at Tower of London around 3 p.m. As luck will have it, my mom also had a few pictures here. When my dad asked me what to do here Thursday night, I said if I made an itinerary it would be roughly based on my mom's pictures. We didn't really focus on that too much Friday, but it worked out pretty well anyway!

We bought some souvenirs and Ben & Jerry's ice cream and walked around outside the Tower of London. I wanted to go inside, but we needed to be heading back by 4:30 p.m. to make our dinner reservation. We decided we'd come back the next day to go inside. If there's on thing I love it's castles. Castles and climbing.

We took the tube to Jay's neighborhood and walked back. We freshened up and fancied up for the evening. We went out with Jay for a nice dinner. I got fried courgettes and that's all, if I recall correctly. I do remember they were absolutely delicious. We got blood orange meringue for dessert. It was very different, but still good. I love blood oranges.

After dinner, Jay escorted us to the theater where we were to go see "The King's Speech." I was so excited to see a play. I haven't in ages. I never saw the movie in its entirety. I sadly fell asleep after the first half (I'll chalk it up to a long day). I enjoyed the play. The set was simple and clean, but very effective and the lead actor was great.

Unfortunately, it looks like the play will close early due to poor ticket sales. Sad.

All in all, it was an excellent first day. Not only as it wonderful to see my parents again, but I was so excited for them to get to see London and for my dad to be in Europe for the first time!

It was also a great change of pace to hear English again. My good friend Nick studied here last spring. He kept telling me I'd need a breath of fresh air and some English by around month three. "Save London for the last month or so. You'll need it." 

I insisted that wouldn't happen to me. He was right, I was wrong. I was overjoyed. Not only was I getting to speak English again, but I got to hear it constantly with an accent. What's not to love? I'll give you this one, Nick.

When the play was over, we walked around for a little bit, but mumsie's feet hurt, and we were pretty exhausted. We headed home and relaxed before going to sleep.

I swear I fall in love with every city I visit.

Siamo Andati al Liceo

Siamo andati al liceo — we went to the high school

Thursday (March 29) Nicoletta took us to an Italian high school so we could practice our speaking skills. We would talk to students in Italian for a little bit and then switch to English so they could practice the language.
We met at the school at 10 a.m. before walking to a bus stop past Piazza della Repubblica. After about half an hour on a bus, we got off to walk the remainder of the way. The area had a very different feel, and it was great to see another part of the city.
There were much more modern buildings with shops lining the streets and apartments stacked on top. The roads were wide and paved as opposed to the narrow cobblestone alleyways in the city center. We walked along the sidewalk out of the busier area and toward greenery. We made our way down a small drive surrounded by tall grass.
When we reached the high school, a teacher met us in the parking lot. As her and Nicoletta talked over their plan for the class, we looked up at the school. It was a plain off-white building with two stories. Italian 17- and 18-year-old boys dangled out of all the open windows, even those that were barred, trying to catch a glimpse of the visitors. Nicoletta had warned us to cover up for these rascals, but it was such a beautiful day none of us really listened. Of the 10 of us, there were only two boys. Most if not all of the girls were in dresses and only half were wearing tights. We got what we asked for — drooling Italian teenage boys. They yelled to us and waved indistinguishable paper signs in our direction.
Nicoletta and the other teacher ushered us inside. As we stood in the hallway, I started to get nervous. I hadn't done anything to prepare for this. Some of my classmates had written some questions down and taken notes. Caitlin and I hadn't done a thing, and we were going to be partners. We stood waiting, and Nicoletta took us two by two into the classroom and sat us with groups of 4-5 Italian students. Caitlin and I were up next. I stood in the doorway scanning the room. It was absolute chaos. People were shuffling around trying to form groups. The scrape of moving chairs and tables barely broke through the loud babel of Italian. Students from other classes were literally trying to climb through the windows into the room. This oughta be fun, I thought to myself.
Caitlin and I got lucky. We were paired with the only three girls in the class and a very nice guy. We started with introductions — names, ages, families. They were all 17 or 18.
We asked them what music they listen to. Marco said he liked Eminem and Linkin Park. We all seemed to agree on our dislike of Justin Bieber. We asked them about their school. It was an agricultural school, which Nicoletta later explained is an alternative high school. They learn all of the basic subjects, but focus on farming skills. We asked them how long they had been studying English. They said since they were 8 or 9. I gulped. They're going to make us look like fools once we switch to English.
The conversation started to drag. We asked them about what kind of pets they had, and we told them the same. Caitlin wanted to say she missed her pets back home. She turned to me and asked how to say "I miss." I incorrectly told her "manche." She kept saying "mi manche," but it didn't seem to be getting across. Marco just stared at us puzzled. He curled on arm under to scratch his armpit and lifted the other to scratch his head. "Monkey?!? Monkey??"
"No! No! Mi manche!"
Everyone was laughing. We called Nicoletta over for help. I was off my a letter. Mi mancha il mio carne. I miss my dog.
We cleared it up with Marco, but the idea of Caitlin having a pet monkey didn't pass quickly. The girls couldn't stop laughing. They leaned over to the next table and got them laughing about it too.
Soon enough it was time to switch to English. Even though we'll feel like idiots for knowing so little, at least this part will be less awkward, right? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Their English was very rough. Most Italians who say "My English is terrible," speak it practically fluently. Not the case here. And what made it worse was we had already exhausted all of the simple topics. I'm sure they knew how to ask our names, ages, hobbies and such, but we already covered those topics with our limited Italian. For the most part, they just gave up or were too shy to try.
Claudia put in a lot of effort though. She sat across from me and we talked for a good while. She said she doesn't want to become a farmer but rather a park ranger. She'd like to go to more school after she graduates — provided she can afford it — and eventually move to France. She said she likes Italy, but she doesn't like Italians or Italian law. I'm not sure if something was lost in translation there, but it was really the only thing I got out of it. I wish there wasn't the language barrier so I could have asked her to explain more.
After class was over, the students took us outside to their greenhouses and gardens. We talked to the others as we walked out, and it seemed like Caitlin and I got really lucky. Jess and Kate said their group just kept asking how much they drink and if they smoke. Another group didn't talk at all.
As the rest of the high schoolers just started to goof around and yell obnoxiously, Claudia walked with Caitlin and I. She told us about what they do every day. I asked questions in Italian and she answered in English. It was a good way for us to both practice. She was so nice!
Eventually they had to go back to another class, and it was time for us to head back.
Being such a nice day, we agreed to walk back instead of taking the bus. Nicoletta led us through Cascine Park (an area I had tried unsuccessfully to find earlier in the semester). I wish I had brought my camera. I almost did, but ended up leaving it behind.
The park was beautiful. I definitely have to get there again sometime before I leave. The grass was a rich green color. Full trees shaded many of the long paths. We walked along one in the sun that hugged the Arno. People ran along the paths to our left while others reclined in the sun along the banks of the river to the right. It was absolutely beautiful, and the weather was perfect!
The park seemed to go on forever, but we eventually reached the edge. By that time we were all hot and tired, so we agreed to take the bus the rest of the way back.
It dropped us off near Bethany's place around 1 p.m.
Glenn, Kevin, Bethany, Michelle, Yelena and I set out to grab lunch. We wanted to go to Tijuana's (a mexican restaurant) for lunch, but it was closed. Instead I led the group to the Oil Shoppe, a fantastic sandwich shop on our end of town. After a delicious veggie panino, I said ciao and headed back to the apartment.
I watched some Netflix and finished packing for London! With my backpack nearly bursting at the seams, I walked down the stairs and over to Basilica di Santa Croce to catch a taxi to the airport. The law is that a taxi ride within the city can't cost more than €25. It always costs that much to get to the airport or more if your driver is a bastard who shortchanges you significantly.
I had much better luck with this driver. As soon as I got in, he said it'll be €20 at the end. From what I understood it should always be that much to get from the city center to the airport. He was kind an not at all greedy. One point driver. Then much to my surprise he used his blinkers. Point two! And when we neared the airport where there's a short stretch of road with four lanes, he stayed in his instead of weaving back and forth as if for fun. He even checked blindspots. Point three, point four.
I got out at the airport in complete shock. If I had change, I probably would have even tipped him.
After a good half-hour wait in line, I checked in. I chatted at the terminal with a couple of businessmen from London who had been in Florence just for the day for a quick meeting. Soon enough, I was on my way to London to meet the 'rents!

One more day in paradise

Friday (March 23) was our last day in Santorini. I'd call it bittersweet, but I can't think of a reason anyone would ever leave this place.

I woke up early to see the sunrise with Bethany after failing to do so every other morning of the week. We sat on the ledge of our balcony huddled in blankets and watched the day begin in silence. It was so peaceful.

Once the sun was well above the clouds and I was sufficiently cold, I hopped down from the wall and slipped inside. Bethany crawled back into bed, but I had plans. Or rather, I had a mission: find the red beach. We had failed miserably at this task earlier in the week, and I just couldn't leave without getting to see it! Erika planned to meet me a little after 7 a.m. so we could explore. My preparations for the day woke up Amy about 5 minutes before I was supposed to leave. She stirred awake and asked how much time she'd have if she wanted to join. She threw her stuff together and followed me out to the ATVs.
Just as we were walking out, Erika came around the bend with Kelsey on the back of her four-wheeler. So two became four and we set out to find the beach.

It was a chilly morning to begin with, so once we started zipping along the island I was practically shivering.

As a navigator who left the map in the hotel, I was left with gut instincts to get us to the southern end of the island. I think we took a couple of extra roads and detours, but I got us there relatively promptly.

Once we reached the area of Akrotiri, I followed signs to the Red Beach. I was a little nervous since that was exactly how we tried to find it last time, but I had since found out the place where we gave up our hunt last time was right around the corner from the beach. We weaved back and forth along a narrow road and this time took the right path at the fork. We were in the right spot in less than two minutes. I couldn’t believe we were so close yet so far last time.

We parked our ATVs and began to climb a narrow path at the end of the parking lot. Just around the bend the red beach beamed at us. Although I’ve never opened a treasure chest of gold, I imagine the feeling would be equally as victorious and satisfying as seeing this:

I led us down a gravel path, sliding more than actually walking. Kelsey was only wearing flip flops, so about halfway down she decided to turn around. Amy, Erika and I kept going. We climbed up again, this time over large boulders, and back down again. We were finally standing on the red beach!

I looked back and yelled to Kelsey, point out a different path she could take. Erika, Amy and I sat down and threw rocks into the sea as we chatted about our trip.

After a while, we realized Kelsey wasn't coming to meet us. We walked farther along the beach. A tall cliff towered above us to the left. There were several out-of-place doors along the base. They made me anxious for some reason.

Amy ran over to peek inside the tiny dwellings. She backed up and gasped.

"Oh God. What's in there?!?"

She paused before uttering in complete shock, "a kitchen!" I looked in the next one and the one after that, and sure enough they looked like fairly modern quarters that had been abandoned for a few months. Most had construction equipment inside.

Photo by Amy

Erika and I sat on the beach as Amy ran farther down and climbed around on some rocks and a little building. Just the usual.

We didn't have a whole lot of time there. The idea was more to just see it than actually spend a day there. We had bigger plans for the rest of the afternoon. We summoned Amy and headed back to the ATVs, where Kelsey was waiting patiently. With the sun much higher in the sky, the beach was showing its true colors. The red was glorious.

We rode back to Fira to Erika, Yelena and Kelsey's place. They had to pack up, so Amy and I walked up the street to get a crepe. I don't know why I haven't been eating them all semester. We split a nutella strawberry one. Yum Yum Yum!

We waited by the ATV place until the other four girls arrived. We couldn't return them without all of us there. I started to get anxious as it neared 10:30 a.m. We had to be down by the Old Port by 11 a.m. to catch our boat. We saw Erika, Kelsey and Yelena across the street getting breakfast. Amy talked to them while I paced back and forth waiting for Caitlin, Bethany, Jess and Kate. They showed up eventually. It turned out Squirt ran out of gas and they had to push our little yellow ATV to a gas station.

We ran/walked all the way down the donkey path to the Old Port, where an old wooden boat was waiting for us. We clambered on, claimed our seats and turned around to see where we were headed: the volcano!

The ride was short, but beautiful. We looked back to see the Caldera from afar. We could see the donkey path zigzag down the steep incline. It looks even more intense from this viewpoint..

Soon the water beneath us turned from a blue to a startling green. We pulled up and docked next two other boats. The crew led us over and though the other two ships and onto land. We had an hour and a half to explore, so up we went!

A couple of benches and two straw umbrellas sat at the first fork in the path. People seemed pretty evenly split on which way they took. We settled on left.

The black lava rock crunched beneath my sandals. Red and green lined the sides of the narrow paths. I never expected a volcano to be bursting with this much color.

The higher we got, the more we started to see of the sea. It only added to the vividness. Every time I thought to myself, “It doesn’t get better than this,” it did. Just a few more minutes. It always did.

Kate, Bethany and Caitlin disappeared ahead of us around one of the very first twists in the path. This didn’t surprise me with Kate the explorer leading the pack. Jess, Amy and I took our time and reached the top in about 40 minutes.

Of course I made someone take the usual picture:

There were all kinds of rocks people had stacked on top of one another. It reminded me of Ruby Beach, Wash., where I went with my family a couple of summers ago.

We wandered around the edge of the crater. It's hard to believe the power the earth holds right beneath my feet. 

From the far side of the crater we could see the hot springs tucked between where we were and a smaller island of volcanic rock. We were headed to that teal strip of water next!

A little further around the edge I saw a round, squat cement cylinder post. I had seen this a couple of other places but didn't know what it was. When we were out by the lighthouse Wednesday there was one on top of one of the tall cliffs. I didn't have the guts to climb on top of it there, or really I was smart enough not to, but I couldn't resist sitting on this one.

It was windy, but beautiful. Jess passed my camera to me so I could take a picture of my view. I rotated around to get a full 360, but this is one of my favorites. You can see the crater, the colors, the lava rock, the sea and Fira along the edge of Santorini in the distance.

We finished our loop around the crater and took a few more pictures before walking back down.

I hadn't really paid attention to how dusty the walk was, but I started to feel how grimy I was as I watched small clouds puff up under Jessica's feet in front of me.

We got back to the boat almost exactly on time, followed closely by the last people left on the volcano. We pulled out and rounded the island to the hot springs!
Caitlin wanted nothing more than to swim in them. The woman who sold us the tickets the day before warned us that we'd have to swim through cold water to get to them. Now it was nice out, but certainly not swimming weather. We all knew we were pretending it was warmer than it actually was, but no one spoke this truth.
Caitlin and I were committed to the swim. "If not now, when?" Besides, it was only about 20 meters in cold water to get to the springs. Jess and Bethany seemed ready, but nervous for the cold. Amy didn't have a swimsuit and was therefore the designated guard of our belongings. Kate was terrified she'd just jump in, freeze/panic and sink to the bottom. We did our best to get her excited.
An older couple sitting across from us was going to do it. If they can do it, we certainly can! The boat anchored about 20 meters from the entrance to the hot springs as promised. The man of the aforementioned couple started to get ready, disrobing to his swimming trunks. His wife apparently hadn't known about the 20-meter swim and started to get cold feet. He talked her into it as we continued to do the same for Kate.
A couple of other tourists had already jumped in, but about 75 percent of the boat sat in their warm clothes without any sign of moving.
Well, this is it, I thought. "Guys. Now. Let's do it."
I took off my shirt, took several determined steps toward the edge and jumped right in without another thought. I approached it with the same attitude as I did when hurling myself into a canyon in Switzerland. If I did that in below zero temperatures, I certainly shouldn't have any issues with the Aegean Sea.
Ha.
I had just thrown myself into an icebox. This is not Greece. I am in Antartica. I am a penguin.
My entire body went tense. Crap. Kate's not going to be the one to panic and sink like a pathetic rock. I am! Focus Lydia. Focus. Move your arms. Swim. Your legs too.
I started to paddle with a stroke that can only be described as a cross between a dog and a frog.
Out of nowhere, Kate came up next to me. She propelled herself past me with flawless form. I hadn't even heard her jump in behind me. She looked like she had been swimming all her life.
Excuse me, but what? 
I pulled it together and started to swim. As I scooped water behind me, I could feel small hard things brushing against my arms, hands and shoulders. We still don't know what it was, and I think I'd prefer to keep it that way. Jess swears something bit her. I swallowed more water than I pushed behind me, but eventually I made it to the springs. I was kicking when I thrust my foot hard against a rock on the bottom. I tried to stand and walk the rest of the way, but the air started to feel colder than the water and the rocks were slippery.
I practically crawled the rest of the way through the water to meet Kate.
"Kate! What the hell was that?"
"I don't know! I panicked, and I didn't want to look dumb to all the tourists on the boat so I got to warmth as fast as I could."
I just shook my head and laughed.

Photo by Amy. She said tourists were laughing at us and taking pictures as we froze. I'm sure they thought we were idiots. I don't blame them. I'm in the front and Kate's jumping in behind me.

Jess, Caitlin and Bethany trickled in behind us, shivering. We moved farther into the "hot springs." I wasn't a huge fan of them. The bottom was about 6 inches of mushy goop. There were weird mud clumps and clear jelly-like floaties circling us. I twisted my arms around me wildly the whole time to keep them away from me. I don't like not knowing what's all over me.
It was significantly warmer than the sea. I'll give the springs that much, but it's not a lot. It was more like patches of luke warm water. I'm sure it would be better in the summer.
We didn't have a whole lot of time, so after about 10 minutes we headed back. Even though I was going from warm to cold, I was more prepared for the swim this time. It didn't feel like it took quite as long. We climbed up and huddled in towels.

I warmed up surprisingly fast and ended up giving my towel to Jess and Kate, who were shivering wildly.

…. Our boat dropped us back off at the Old Port. We were immediately swarmed by people offering donkey rides back up to Fira. We declined. No one wanted to do it again, and I certainly wasn’t getting on a donkey again after the previous day’s allergy nightmare.

We all decided we'd rather just take the cable car up. It was only €4. Kate was going to walk, but I just bought her ticket. There was no point in any of us hiking up that disgusting path. We had about half an hour before the next one went up the lift, so we just sat in the sun drying out and wiping salt from our eyelids and elbows. Yes, in the short swim salt had collected in the creases of our eyelids and all other places. The entire half hour we waited there, one very persistant donkey man continued to pester us.

"Donkey? Donkey? Donkey? Up! Donkey! Donkey!"

"No grazie"

"Ohh... donkey?......... donkey?"

He reminded me of the seagulls in Finding Nemo. "Mine? Mine?"

He didn't give up until we were walking into the cable car ticket office. I applaud your persistance.

The view on the way up was really pretty — although I doubt you could find a bad view if you tried in Santorini. Even what's blocking what you want to see is probably worth looking at.

At the top we wandered through shops buying our final souvenirs. I still can't believe how many I bought here. We made our way back to the center of town. We all got gyros for a late lunch. I'm getting hungry for one now just typing it. It was absolutely delicious. Bethany and I walked up the street in search of gelato, but returned with frozen Greek yogurt instead. I certainly wasn't upset about it.

I got one with walnuts and chocolate syrup. It was delicious!

We went across the street to an internet cafe so we could check in online and print off boarding passes for our flight the next day. It took several trips downstairs to buy more internet time, and a lot of frustration, but after about 45 minutes we were successful. 

We split up a little bit to walk around and shop more. Jess and Kate went off on their own, and the rest of us hung out together.
While Caitlin, Bethany and Amy were still in a shop, I wandered out and along the edge of the city. I looked out over the water at the volcano we climbed earlier. Behind it to the left I could see the tip of the island where Kate, Jess and I had climbed down the rocks and cliffs. To the right (a little out of the picture) was Oia where we had seen the sunset the night before.

I absolutely love this island.

I found Amy, Caitlin and Bethany and we kept shopping. I had two more things I really wanted to get: 

1. Something with my name written in Greek

2. Necklace with lava stones and the blue and white charm used to ward off evil.

I never did get my name in Greek, and I almost thought I wouldn't get the necklace either. Just before we went back to meet with Jess and Kate, or as they should be called Jate, I found a jewelry shop. I asked the shopkeeper if she had anything with the charm I was looking for. She started showing me €100+ necklaces.
"I'm looking in the less than €20 range," I told her.
"Ahhh. OK."
She showed me a glass case of simple pendants — just what I was looking for. I found one I liked for €8. I was hoping she'd give me some sort of chain with it, but she did one better. She handed me a small box of beads and told me to make my own pattern.
Bethany helped me find some lava beads and set out my perfect necklace! She made it for me really fast. Total: €15. Perfection.

We found Jate and headed home. On the walk, we realized we had never tried baklava! This was unacceptable, so when we got back I went and asked Poppy if we could order it for delivery. It wasn't a problem. She helped me call, and I threw in some stuffed vine leaves just for the fun of it. Bethany and I had been eyeing them earlier in the week and said we'd try them at some point. 

In about ten minutes, a man knocked on our door with our food. Surprisingly fast, especially in Greece.

The vine leaves were so good. Caitlin said the restaurant where she works makes some pretty good ones and she'll have to take me there. I'm going to hold her to that.

The Baklava was huge. and very very sweet.

We relaxed and packed for the rest of the night. At some point in the evening, I stepped outside for a little bit to walk around and take pictures. I sat out by the pool for a while in complete bliss.

I absolutely love Greece.






Saturday we had an 8:25 a.m. flight. The same guy who drove us from the airport would give us a ride back to it. He assured us that leaving by 7:30 a.m. would be plenty of time, but I was pretty anxious. We all were. We ended up outside with our bags ready around 7:15 a.m. He came out soon after. "Now? OK!" He lifted our bags into the back as we piled into the van.
After a short ride to the airport, we thanked him and said our goodbyes.
Our flight to Athens seemed to be the only one leaving from the tiny airport. We waited in line for a while to check in. I felt like things were moving oddly slow. Caitlin, Amy, Bethany and Kate checked in before Jess and I. They went over to scan their bags and then headed to security. Jess and I dragged ours over to the belt for checked bags and waited for someone to scan our bags. And waited. And waited. A line began to form behind us. Soon a security man came running from the other end of the airport, which was really probably as long as our swim to the hotsprings. He silently began the machine and our bags disappeared under black rubber flaps. We shrugged and headed over to security to get into the terminal, where we waited again. Then it dawned on me. This airport has one security officer. One.
"Jess. How much do you want to bet that guy who checked our bags runs over here in 5 minutes to do gate security?"
He did. Now that is the definition of a small airport. We waited for a few minutes at what seemed to be the only terminal (I believe there were two), before lining up to go outside onto a bus. We shuffled forward and look who was there taking our tickets! The same woman who checked us in around front.
Two employees to run the airport. Plus two to stand around in the snack stand. I could hardly contain my laughter.

The flight was quick and uneventful, other than the sighting of this island that looks like a goat:

Less than half an hour later, we were landing in Athens.

Airplane-window photography. Athens.

We had to pick up our bags here. Since we didn't book our flights together, we couldn't check our luggage all the way through to our final destination. So we grabbed our bags and headed upstairs to check in again. Our next flight wasn't for another five hours. Kate and Caitlin's layover was worse: nine hours. It was a little too early to check in, so we headed outside to wait.

We spent the next hour or two playing Charades, Simon Says and a little bit of Karaoke. Jate showed us the secret handshake they had apparently spent the week perfecting. Everyone walking past either laughed at or with us. It was fantastic. 

After a while we headed inside and checked our bags. Kate and Caitlin still had to hang on to theirs. We looked at the shops in the airport mall for a while, and I ended up buying a slice of Dominos Pizza. I am ashamed. I didn't want to be buying American fast food while I was here, but it was honestly the cheapest thing I could find. What can I say? It happens to the best of us.

As does illness, apparently. Friday night I started feeling a little bit of a tickle in my throat after jumping into the sea. It was sore in the morning, but the copious amount of water and a smoothie I had downed wasn't doing anything. I bought a couple boxes of halls and popped them for the rest of the day.

It was getting close to our boarding time, so Amy, Jess, Bethany and I headed to our gate. Bethany felt so guilty leaving Caitlin and Kate there. They were flying into Rome and taking the train to Florence Sunday morning. I'm not sure why she was so torn up about leaving them for less than 24 hours. I suppose we had spent all day every day together for the past week.

We said our goodbyes, went through security and boarded our Swiss Air flight to Zurich. I want to fly with them again just so I can get more complementary Swiss chocolate. 

We had a layover in Zurich, and the final leg of the flight was also Swiss air. Two free chocolate bars!

While in Greece, I had decided I wanted to get a flag from each country I visited. Not a little souvenir flag, but a giant one I could hang on my wall at home. In total I would be seeing four countries this semester: Italy, Switzerland, Greece and the UK.

I was pretty disappointed that I had decided this after I went to Switzerland, so when I realized that's where our layover was, I made it my mission to find a flag. I figured I wouldn't be able to, but Amy helped me find one!

Even though it was sad to leave Greece, I'd say charades, free chocolate, a Swiss flag and this view from the plane add up to an all around good day. 

Plus it was nice to get home.

But just as I said after Switzerland..... until next time, Greece. I refuse to say goodbye.
This does not count as our next meeting, Switzerland)

I swear I'll be back to both.