All the best from the digital cutting floor.
Who knew olive oil is a “Dangerous Good?”
Here’s the thing. Up until Anna Grace decided she could spare a few days of her autumn break on holiday (heavy IB load), I could never find the love for Athens, and I do not know why. There are other places I feel similarly about, as well, like Lisbon and California and Iceland and the whole of South America. Yet, Athens kept coming up as an autumn city break destination, and so the flights were purchased. By the time I had slogged past all “epic” and “ultimate” trip reports and blogs I came across during travel research to concentrate on the remaining writings by travelers with vocabularies, I was smitten. Funny how these things happen.
Let the Games Begin!
We flew on Aegean Airlines, Vienna to/from Athens. Our first experience with Aegean was about 18 months ago en route to Cairo, and we fell in love. Legroom! Delicious Food! (No, really!) Gorgeous Greek scenery on the monitors to inspire and entertain us. In fact, we were so inspired that Tony and I booked a short getaway to Corfu a couple of months later, albeit on the horrible and thankfully now-defunct NIKI.
But the romance was short-lived. Rather than the delicious, almost-business class quality food we recalled, the outbound delicacy was a lukewarm Tiropita and a Fitness granola bar. And all we had for entertainment was the map on the monitor, ticking away the kilometers the plane had flown. But we had legroom, the key to travel happiness for my tall family members.
Zapiekanka. Hold the ketchup, please.
On the day before departure Anna Grace and I pored and planned over the weather forecast, cruel mistress that she is. No Rain, Slight Rain, Sunny, and Everything in Between was predicted, except locusts, and so we packed accordingly. The only downside of our planning was that because of the forecast changing every time we looked at it, we decided not to advance purchase tickets for the very new WWII museum (entrance is limited); this worked against us, and we were not able to visit.
Our driver was at the airport with the, Ms. First Name Last Name-ski” sign and he promptly sped us like a lunatic to our hotel. When he realized that the “ski” part of my name really meant that I was one generation removed from the homeland and could barely speak my native tongue, sadness and silence filled the car. My grandmother would be ashamed.
LOTs more of this pun lies ahead…
Fish Restaurant Proto is a Michelin recommended restaurant, and so we set our expectations accordingly. Our reservation was indeed excellent; the perimeter of the roof terrace offered banquette seating and we had a corner table, ideal for intimate conversation as well as restaurant-goer watching.
Dubrovnik promotes a, “Three Island Day Trip” that piqued our interest, until we realized that we would return with about one hour to present for our dinner reservation at Proto, the city’s famed, two-star Michelin restaurant. After a 30º day out on the water…let’s just say I would need more than an hour to achieve presentable.