January 5th, 2011

When I try to put my finger on most days gone by and try to regain that feeling by reliving that one moment lost...I squint my eyes...try so hard to conjure up a vivid memory...and...I...can't.  Even yesterday?  Can't remember it really.  I'm taking vitamins, I'm doing Sudoku, I'm trying to exercise my brain, but my poor, sad memory is a feeble creature.  Things come and they go all too soon.  It is bothersome.

But this one day, this day January 5th, 2011, I remember like yesterday...oh wait...can't remember yesterday.  You get the picture.  On this one day Cory and I were flying back from Israel into Athens at 6 am.  We were meeting our next Couch Surfing hosts Olga and George at 2 pm.  It was my 29th birthday. 

So although we were deliriously exhausted from our 3 am departure from the Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv...poor as poor could be...I still needed to be the birthday princess.  It was a challenge.  Cory started out the pampering at the Athens airport Mcdonalds with an eggless sausage breakfast sandwich.  I can not tell you how happy this made me.  We sat in front of the big windows, watched the airplanes take off, sipped our McCafe and smiled.  I don't care how American it makes me sound...I love a breakfast sandwich.  After that we made our way outside into the cool morning air to catch our bus into the city.  It was there that Cory surprised me with the second best thing an impoverished traveling Anna could receive...a English fashion magazine.  These glossy pages filled with anemic women and the clothes that I covet are much more pricey than they are here.  Anywhere from 8 euros to 12 euros...which converts to way too much.

Some views from the park...

By 8 am, I was flying so high from my treats and lack of sleep, it could have been January 6th and I would have been completely happy with how my birthday went.  Alas, we had a big day ahead of us, so we hopped on the bus to central Athens.  Being semi familiar with this city by this point, we got of at a bus stop I recognized the name of from our Christmas there 10 days before.  The central city stop was called Syntagma and it ended up being a perfect location for two weary, droopy eyed vagabonds to kill 6 hours.  There is a beautiful park here where we laid on benches, walked around the palm shaded paths and explored the sweetest patched together zoo I've ever seen.  It was full of Peacocks, frogs, turtles, Ibex, goats and baby bunnies.  Total score for two sleep deprived animal lovers.

After a while, old wise one Cory decided we need to give ourselves plenty of time to get across the city to our meeting place with our CS hosts.  I was skeptical of this plan until we got to the subway stop to find all bus and subway workers were on strike until 4.  Being that we had to meet them at 2, this would simply not work at all.  Oh Greece...how inconvenient your strikes can be.  So after about 20 minutes of running around weighed down by our packs and screaming at each other about what we thought the best new plan would be, we made it to the tram.  Apparently the tram was not on strike, and it would take us half way to our distant destination.  When we got to the Neos Kosmos (pronounced "Neosh Koshmosh") tram stop, we hopped off and spun around searched for a cab.  We didn't want to take a taxi all the way from the city because Greek cab drivers are notoriously shady, and we couldn't risk the potential bill on the full ride.  Thank goodness the driver we hailed was legit, and he zipped us through insane Athen's traffic, right to our stop.

Try getting around this city during a transportation strike...

There we met up with half of our Couch Surfing host couple, George.  He took us to the apartment he shares with his girlfriend Olga and let us sleep in our new surrogate bedroom.  I mentioned to him on the ride home that it was my birthday, and his eyes lit up.  He said they had plans to go out that night and we were coming.  I had no idea what we were in for.  Cory and I rested for a couple hours, showered off the airport grime we had covering us and met lovely and bubbly Olga.  We then went out to the area of the Parthenon for a special birthday dinner.  My wonderful parents had given me some precious birthday moolah, so we decided to have a real meal.  Sitting outside under the lights speckling the Acropolis, I was surprised with a traditional candlelit Greek birthday cake from the wait staff.  I thought this was as good as a birthday could get.  I was so wrong.

Our new friends: George, Olga and Dimitra

When we got back to Olga and George's it was about 9:30, and they were just getting ready to head out.  Cory and I were in and out of consciousness at this point and were unconvinced we could make it through the rest of the night.  That simply was not an option.  We were going to go out, and we were going to enjoy it.  They took us out to a Greek tavern with their friend Dimitra.  And then it started.  The wine, the food, the wine, food...it was flowing to our table in a steady stream of deliciousness.  They did all the ordering of course, and we found out the Greeks do not hold back when it comes to food and wine.  The food was fresh and incredible.  The wine was light, fruity and abundant.  It flowed out to us by the litre in a steady stream the entire evening.  I would conservatively estimate we drank around 20 carafes of wine between the 5 of us.

I'm sure George is ordering more wine here...

And what so faithfully walks hand in hand with excessive wine?  Dancing of course...and can the Greeks ever dance.  The progression of dancers coaxed to the floor by the live band was swift.  Once someone stepped up, it was on.  Practically the entire restaurant was on their feet taking turns in the middle of the circle.  Everyone was swaying their hips slowly as their hands perched raised about their heads were methodically snapping.  When a man would get up to dance in the center, all the women would get down on their knees and give the slow rhythms their utmost attention.  Dimitra commented to Cory about how masculine that form of dancing is.  This struck him as such a difference from American culture, as masculinity isn't frequently judged by their slow and snake like movements on the dance floor.  The confidence exuded was in fact very raw and in fact more masculine than any over muscled American guy screaming at a football game.  Dimitra also told us that once you spend a year in Greece, you have no choice but to dance slow and seriously as heaviness inevitably takes over your steps.  Olga eventually convinced me to join her in a dance, as she taught me of the rhythmic and patient way they dance.  "More like a snake!" she would yell over the music, as I tried to tame my wild moves.


Around midnight they had a huge piece of their traditional chocolate cake sent out with a big candle on top.  I was so thrilled.  I had only known these people 10 hours and they had made me feel so special.  The combination of moist cake, fudge layers and incredible company made this the best chocolate cake I've ever had.  We continued to dance and laugh and drink until about 2:30, and by that point Cory and were feeling the 24 hours of no sleep again.  The restaurant was still as lively as ever and being that it was a Wednesday night, I was shocked at the number of people that showed no sign of slowing down.  We eventually found out that this is just the Greek way of life.  Live while you can.

We settled into our own (this was an extreme rarity) room that night and felt the fatigue of days of travel and hours of dancing drift us off to sleep.  As I dozed off I had satisfaction in knowing this was a birthday memory that could never be duplicated and I would cherish forever.  Thank you Olga, George and Dimitra for this memory and so many others!