Were down to single digits in the countdown to Canada ladies and gentlemen! In fact, I can count the sleeps on one hand. I am so adjusted to everything European, it is going to be so difficult to adjust to home again. Please be patient with me upon my arrival. I will most likely wake at a normal time, but when it comes to lunch, I will probably not eat it until 2 o’clock. Lunch will possibly be followed by a half hour siesta (think I should put that on my resume?), and I won’t start preparing dinner until at least 7 or 7:30. I am going to want some form of bread every day and probably won’t have butter in my fridge (sorry Wendy). Some words in my English vocabulary have been permanently replaced by words in other languages, particularly Italian (duh). I’m not attempting to be one of those kids who go away for a few weeks and return thinking they have the world in their hands now, it’s just become habit because frankly, some words just sound so much better in a different language. If you are with me when I start using these strange words, feel free to ask for clarification. Everyone could use a few Italian words in their vocabulary. In fact, if you learn a few random words in Italian, you can really impress people, and when someone asks you, “say something beautiful to me in Italian” (because you’ve obviously told them your cool friend Jody went to Italy and taught you some language) you can reply confidently, “per che il cattivo cavolo salta arcobaleni” ….. Literal translation: “because the bad cabbage jumps over rainbows”. Seems legit, they’ll never know…
Since I wrote last time, oh what an interesting week I have had. After getting to Madrid I checked into my hostel, which was basically set up like a hospital with five cots right next to each other, no where to lock up any of your belongings, and a really weird “vibe”. To keep unpleasant details to a minimum, I will sum up my experience there by saying that I slept with my important items in my underwear, avoided all contact with the guy in the next bed for fear of being the product of “Taken 3” without Liam Neeson to save me, and didn’t shower for three days to avoid contracting any possible diseases I didn’t already have from the bed itself. Hostel aside, I was actually able to meet up with two girls who I met through work in Italy and went boating, toured some museum (shows my enthusiasm there), and attended a Flamenco dance. That part, that part was nice. I was so glad to see them once more and very happy to be a part of their holidays as well.
After the two girls left, I RAN out of my hostel, but really Had no where to go. Thankfully I had met some guys from France when I was in Barcelona, and they happened to be in Madrid and told me there was room at their hostel. I ran there and told the reception I would take absolutely anything they had. Turns out this was the Madrid hostel from the group “World Famous Hostels” and it was awesome! I was so relieved when I got there. When I got into my room I met some awesome Canadians, well no, the first thing I did was shower, then I met some awesome Canadians. We walked around Madrid, met up with my French friends, and had a night filled with tons of funny memories including a limbo competition, the ceiling giving out and the disco ball falling right on my head, and exchanging some epic dance moves. But everyone has their own travel schedule, and they left several days before I was suppose to catch my flight to Greece. I was suppose to meet up with another travel friend, but unfortunately that fell through. I was very sad that I would be alone for the next five days, as I was not really fond of Madrid. However, everything happens for a reason, and after much dilemma I decided I hadn’t really done anything spontaneous on this trip yet. So, I booked a flight, slept at the airport, and hopped on the next plane to follow the Canadians to the Canary Islands near Morocco. You only live once, right? (Refusing to abbreviate that. Choosing to hold onto my dignity here a little)
The islands were amazing! I stayed at a little hostel right off the beach, went boogie boarding and also tested my balance and skills, or lack there of, at surfing! Who would have thought I would go surfing on this trip. It was so much fun and the water was so warm, but so, so dang salty. Finally, after about 40 hours of not sleeping, I crashed. After the Canadians left, I went with other new friends to a surf competition (sadly I was not a participant, as I could barely move I was so sore), and then again went boogie boarding. My only regret is that I couldn’t stay longer. I hardly took any pictures because we just went and went and went. Man have the last few days been, for lack of a better word, cool.
As excited as I am to be on my way to Greece, and still very sore, I am starting to get excited about coming home too. I have started a mental list of the little things I am looking forward to: body lotion, homemade muffins, not sleeping in bunk beds, not having to fly again for a while, salad, having a different pair of shoes, having more than 3 shirts, being able to hug someone for more than five seconds without it being weird, going to the gym, not having to think in 24hour time, not being scared to pick up my own vegetables at the grocery store for fear of being scowled at when I ‘do it wrong’, and, as much as I have become accustomed to coffee here, I am still excited to have a good ol Tim’s!
It’s impossible to make a list of things I am looking forward to without also thinking about the things I am NOT looking forward to: my feet having to be clean all the time… this just doesn’t happen here; wearing make up again and doing my hair, I thoroughly enjoy not having to care about what I look like; the chance that there is going to be a snow storm when I arrive, having to live in reality again, driving in traffic, poorly made wine, poorly made croissants, poorly made cheese, basically anything made poorly or not as fresh as here.
Well, after panicing about missing my flight to Greece, I made it. And yes, this was written over two days. After getting to the Athens airport late, I finally made it through security (after having my “liquids” taken away at security because I was stupid and in my panic forgot to put them in my other bag). By this time I had changed time zones so many times I had no clue what time it was, but I boarded a tiny plane, at what they told me was 5:45am, with probably 50 other people. I was pretty sure the plane was made from paper mâché, but was so tired that I got on anyways. The flight was AMAZING. A solid 25 minutes of low flying (my favourite) over the Greek islands, landing in Mykonos just as the sun was rising over the ocean. The airport was basically a small gymnasium, but I didn’t mind, I was just so excited to be in my final destination.
Let me tell you about Greece, because everyone should go. First of all, the pictures are accurate; white houses, blue shutters, friendly people, crystal clear ocean, and cats everywhere. Hola! Apparently Mykonos is the party island, but to be honest, I’m so exhausted that all I want is to be on my own relaxing, eating great food, and taking some great pictures. I literally don’t want to do anything and I’m okay with that. I walked all day and saw all the famous sights, good thing because it’s storming today. I finished off my day with the most amazing sunset I’ve ever seen in my life, followed by a dinner of typical chicken pita with tzaziki and baklava for dessert while laying in bed watching Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, which, let’s be honest, is the reason I wanted to come to Greece in the first place. As my room continues to shake from the thunder today, I am pretty sure I will be doing nothing before boarding my ferry tomorrow to Santorini. Oh! And to answer my earlier question…. Yes, it is still called a Greek salad (or typical salad) here. Speaking of which, I’m going to get one for supper.
Shout out to home: Happy Belated Birthday to the thing I am MOST excited about seeing when I get home. Wish I could have been there to celebrate with you Tyler, see you in four sleeps my love.
Soon to be no more,
Your Italian Armstrong