Heavenly Greece
Getting to Greece from London was a Herculean effort due to the short layover between our connection in Munich, which had us running for boarding without time to grab any lunch. But because I’d updated the other lengths of our trip for more leg room except this one, we were reseated on the last row of the plane, and the attendants had run out of food by the time they reached us. I nibbled on cashews while Rob had some cookies. Once landed, we grabbed our luggage and figured out how to hail an Uber taxi to take us to our Air B&B in Athens. We arrived to what looked to be a war zone of concrete buildings covered with graffiti, a far cry from the whitewashed Mediterranean city I thought we were visiting. Thankfully our apartment was beautiful and spacious, so we dropped our bags and left with Jo and Connor who had previously arrived, to find some much needed dinner.
Our neighborhood thankfully looked a little better in the daylight when the four of us set out to explore the neighborhood and beyond on foot. I was astounded by all the elaborate graffiti art, which was laced with Palestinian support and tourist criticism. We learned later from our evening tour guide that Athenians are very resentful of so much of their real estate being used for tourism, causing the shortage of affordable housing. Athenians would prefer that tourist support their locally owned hotels and bed and breakfasts which for five people can be more expensive than the rate we had for an apartment, but good to keep in mind for the future. After walking around the art district and taking the funicular to the top of Mount Lycabettus, we walked to the air conditioned National Archaeological Museum where I stole a few minutes in one of the guard’s chairs recouping from the heat. We had a memorable dinner at Pharaoh restaurant right under our apartment and then set out for a night walking tour of the Monastiraki district, bustling with tourists dining al fresco with views of the Acropolis.
When we finally got to bed I realized I’d overdone it and felt myself coming down with a sore throat and inevitable cold. I declined the early morning tour of the Acropolis that morning and instead stayed in our cool apartment reading more about the art scene in Paris with Picasso and friends. Tired and sweaty Rob and the kids came back briefly to change for their turn dining under the glow of the ruins, while I gratefully ate the chicken skewers and French fries they brought home for me, leaving half for Olivia who ate with her sickly mom on the living room couch enjoying the comfort and company. The next morning we got up early to pack up and Uber over to the ferry terminal to depart to the island of Sifnos.
Arriving in port I sighed with relief that this indeed was the island beauty I had imagined when I rsvp’d yes to Avery and Sofia’s wedding in Greece. Our white stucco apartment with blue trim was picture perfect, the breeze was cool and the ocean clear and warm. Rob who now also had my cold and I found the beachfront store where we bought nasal spray and water and we all headed out for a Mediterranean lunch at Yalos with plenty of freshly caught, expensive seafood and local wine. After a quick sea dip from our hotel beach access we showered and dressed for the wedding welcome party at the same restaurant where we’d had lunch. Rob and I kept our distance from the guests as we arrived, letting folks know were nursing head colds, and found a table for two overlooking the beach where our kids, who had grown up with Avery and and his sister Sasha, were all dining together at sunset.
Another good nights sleep and day at the beach left my husband and I feeling almost human and able to socialize a bit more except when the coughing started up. Our family dressed up in the outfits we had carefully chosen and brought across continents for the big occasion, heavy formal shoes included. A party bus picked us up at the hotel and drove the 30 or more guests joining us along windy roads over high brown cliffs overlooking a sparkling transparent ocean below. We arrived at the Lazarou Beach venue built with stone walls snuggled into the hillside, which descended down multiple levels for dining and partying before reaching the beach platform set up for the wedding ceremony. I had so worried about the chuppah that Avery’s mother Leslie had so carefully made, fearing it would blow away in the wind. Smart thinking led the wedding organizers to cut the fabric in cross slits along the top which let the breeze blow safely through. The early evening sun was just starting its descent as Greek musicians serenaded us until the wedding began.
The wedding party carefully stepping down each stone stair to the accompaniment of the processional music and ocean waves was as if from the pages of a fairy tale. The parents so proud, the toddler twin flower children predictably on their own path, the grandparents gently steering them forward, and the bride glowing in white satin with her veil billowing behind. Many stories were recited during the ceremony and the delicious Greek family style dinner, that told of the couple’s meeting and dating, with each of their unique personalities highlighted by friends and family. These two are indeed a good fit.
Rob and I made it down to the beach for a few manic dances along with everyone else before the first bus was scheduled to leave at 11:30, as the next departure wasn’t until 1:30am. Our kids stayed and partied with the bride and groom and most of the younger guests until 2:30 and were able to help smash 300 ceramic plates with the bride’s Greek father and drink shots of something clear and more potent than the wine we’d had with dinner. While I wished I been able to stay and dance and smash plates, I was grateful to wake up feeling a little bit better and ready to enjoy our last day in Sifnos.
We met the wedding party again for brunch at Palmira beachside restaurant and saw all the happy hungover faces now in shorts and sandals, comparing the evenings memories. Without beach umbrella coverage, our family opted to return to our hotel beachfront where we could use their equipment free of charge. I pulled out a large paddle board that no one seemed to need, and paddled around the sheltered cove singing Abba’s “I Have a Dream” made popular in the movie Mama Mia. It was pretty much my perfect Grecian moment and made our journey around the world complete, until we return.