Our last night in Greece was a stupid, unorganized waste of time. And actually fun! A small dinner group turned into 20, and we didn’t even leave our hotel until 9:30 p.m. By the time we bought metro tickets, headed downtown, and walked down the famous Ermou Street, it was already 10:30. Now that’s kind of late for me to eat dinner, but we could not find a restaurant to seat us all because they were so packed! People in Greece (and all of Europe, for that matter), stay up much later, and get up much later than Americans for sure. We finally found a restaurant that could fit us all in, so we went inside, hiked up the stairs, and waited for the staff to cram some tables together. We were sitting side by side like sardines until someone noticed that there wasn’t anything on the menu for less than 25 Euros. With it being the last day of the trip, most everyone’s cash flow was running pretty short. We all started ordering appetizers, and in the middle of someone’s order, the waiter stormed off and came back with the manager. The man in a suit said “this is a place for wine, music, and friends, not a cheap dinner.” Then they kicked us out! It would have been embarrassing had it not been so funny.
When we got outside we started to split up, and I ended up in a group with our tour guide and a few others. We took off down a random street, still searching for food. In our search for food, we walked around until we got lost. But we didn’t mind because we suddenly came upon the sight of the Acropolis lit up like a star on a hill—it was awesome! Unable to find a place to eat, we finally went back to eat at the simple tavern next door to our hotel. We did have a good laugh, however, a 90-year-old Greek widow tried to sell Tyson a flower. She kept insisting that he take it (and of course would expect money in return). Apparently, she thought “no, thank you” was the cue for her to stuff if down his coat and with a toothless grin, say “gardenia” and hold out her hand for money.
When we got outside we started to split up, and I ended up in a group with our tour guide and a few others. We took off down a random street, still searching for food. In our search for food, we walked around until we got lost. But we didn’t mind because we suddenly came upon the sight of the Acropolis lit up like a star on a hill—it was awesome! Unable to find a place to eat, we finally went back to eat at the simple tavern next door to our hotel. We did have a good laugh, however, a 90-year-old Greek widow tried to sell Tyson a flower. She kept insisting that he take it (and of course would expect money in return). Apparently, she thought “no, thank you” was the cue for her to stuff if down his coat and with a toothless grin, say “gardenia” and hold out her hand for money.
By now, it was midnight and we walked into the Greek Taverna next door to our hotel. Again, it was packed, but surprisingly, with people my parents’ age. They had live music with a guy who liked to serenade us with American songs. Even though it was late, we all ordered full meals: appetizers of cheese pie, meat pie, stuffed cabbage, and bread. For dinner, lots of people ordered lamb, but I stuck with the beef and mushrooms. Everyone in my family is severely allergic to lamb, so naturally I’ve never tried it. I didn’t want my first experience to be across the world. I couldn’t imagine trying to say “Epipen” in Greek…
Tyson figured that it was pointless to go to sleep now that it was nearing 2 a.m. because we had to be out the door at 3:30. So instead of sleeping, we pulled an all-nighter and hung around and listened to music and talked about our cravings for Mexican food.
Tyson took us to the airport, and our goodbye was a little sad. I said, “Our mother duck is leaving us” because we all seriously resembled little ducklings the entire trip, following Tyson around spasmodically in a line. I said my goodbyes and exchanging emails with everyone, and got back on the plane to go home, not knowing this was just the beginning of many adventures to come.
Tyson took us to the airport, and our goodbye was a little sad. I said, “Our mother duck is leaving us” because we all seriously resembled little ducklings the entire trip, following Tyson around spasmodically in a line. I said my goodbyes and exchanging emails with everyone, and got back on the plane to go home, not knowing this was just the beginning of many adventures to come.