Travel Day of Death From Hell: Take 2

Angry Trolls

Perhaps this day is my punishment for breaking the dryer at the Yellow Hostel... I accidentally overloaded it with our freshly-laundered clothing. It worked as hard as it could for about 10 minutes, then came to a sputtering death. Our only option was to hang our soggy clothing out the window of our hostel dorm, and we thought we were fortunate to have the line right outside our room.

That is, until we woke the next morning, hangover from an awesome last night in Rome, to find our clean clothes absolutely covered in...

“What is that?”

“Ice cream?”

“How would it get all the way up here?”

“…………………”

“NOOOOO – IT’S BIRD %$#@!!”

Miraculously, not a drop of feces from our feathered friends landed on my clothes. Not one! Meanwhile, some of K’s clothes were so ravished by the birds she had to throw them out. I am pretty sure KB just wore her poopy clothing for the rest of the trip… I kid.

It was another mad dash to the train station after that fiasco, where we just caught the 7am train from Rome to Bari. Somewhat refreshed from naps during the 5 hour trip, we then ventured to the ferry to Athens. “Woo – a boat! I sleep so well on them!” I thought to myself.

Little did we realize that the €30 ticket did not actually purchase us a room, nor a bed, nor even a cushioned seat. Upon our ferry check in, we were unceremoniously ushered to the deck, which was decked out in plastic benches and little else. Oh, can’t forget the covered pool – this plays an important part in the story later on.

We accepted our fate and decided the best way to sleep that night would be in an alcohol-induced coma, so then it was off to the gift shop to purchase whatever bottle of wine we could find. Options were very limited, but we found one for €8 that seemed reasonable enough. Back on the deck, one swig from the bottle for each of us brought the quick realization that this was not wine, but in fact a cruel alcoholic joke. It tasted like liquid earwax, and despite all the things we guzzled in college, we could not bring ourselves to drink it. The label being in Greek, we never did learn its name.

K and KB opted to try to sleep on the plastic benches, but with the deck’s stadium-style lighting, I thought sleeping under them was a better option. Which is what I did, wrapped in my beach towel for comfort and protection:

I was awoken by gentle tapping on my shoulder in the morning, and my first thought was “If we aren’t in Athens, someone is going to die.” I was confused to see that I had been woken up not by one of the Ks, but by a Japanese tourist, who was frantically gesturing first at me and then at the pool, some 15 feet away. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and then saw to my horror that the covered pool was LEAKING SCUMMY WATER, MERE INCHES FROM MY HEAD.

Had the foul, stagnant water, which had combined with balls of lint, loose hair and bits of food during its 15-foot journey across the deck floor touched me, I might have pulled a Carrie. A million thank you’s to that Japanese tourist, who unknowingly saved the lives of many that morning.

Several more long, obnoxious hours remained on the ferry until finally we were at our destination: a bus station 3 hours outside of Athens. Wearily, we boarded the bus and prayed our time on the ferry would make this feel like a treat. It did not. Finally in Athens, we learned we had to take a bus to yet another bus… and making it all the more difficult was the fact that we couldn’t read the Greek symbols on all the signs. Through KB’s ingenuity (e.g., somehow gleaning the correct direction from a butcher shop we stumbled upon), we FINALLY arrived at our hotel – only 50 hours of traveling later. The hotel was humble and sweet and could not have been a better sight for sore eyes (and butts and backs and heads and...).

After some long baths and a few delicious gyros, we are ready for bed. Please excuse me while I sleep forever.


xo,
L

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