Yes, I survived
Not to mention it was practically a ghost town, with everyone away for diakopes (vacations). We had an excellent view of our old neighborhood from the hotel –
and Thanos went out bright and early Saturday morning and got me some tsoureki from our old bakery (I’ve not had tsoureki quite as good since then). The weather was actually pleasant for July – plus I think
The wedding was beautiful, the bride and groom looked fabulous and the reception had the usual “Greek wedding reception” elements but a few twists thrown in, including fireworks and a buffet. I’ve actually never experienced a buffet at a wedding before. The food was decent and there was something for everyone, yet Thanos and I still experienced “buffet sickness” the next day. No matter how good a buffet is, it just never quite works out for me. Unfortunately, none of my pictures of the reception venue turned out, because our camera is s*#t and it was too dark (same with the interior of the church, I got a couple of passable shots of the artwork inside, but most of it was dark). Too bad, because the place was kinda cool with a modern design, on a huge property among other such venues snug on the slopes of Parnitha.
The flight there was a bit dicey – a delay on the runway because of too much traffic in the Greek skies, and then again mid-flight. Add some turbulence on landing and it was a rough ride. On the flight back I was certain they hadn’t locked the cargo door (we were sitting right over it and I saw it close but I didn’t hear or feel the corresponding kalump) while Thanos rolled his eyes every time I said it. I’m even more amused by passenger behavior than ever. I’m trying to figure out why exactly people have to be first to board when boarding means getting on a bus to get to the plane and the people that get on first just have to wait on a hot bus for ten minutes. Then the minute the plane stops 90% of the people jump up and start gathering their crap only to stand there for ten minutes while waiting for the door(s) to be opened. And what exactly is so hard about finding your seat on a plane? People get on board and it is like all common sense regarding numbers has been lost on them. If your ticket says row 22 you can be pretty sure you need to keep moving towards the back of the plane. Then when people get to their designated seat they stand in the aisle, puzzled, as if not sure what to do next. Sitting down is a good rule of thumb, or at least get the hell out of the way so the rest of us that can count can get to our seats. Honestly, is life really that difficult for some people, or does travel stress just overcome them? If the latter is true, I guess I can’t blame them. I’m sure anyone who knew English on the plane didn’t appreciate my constant chatter about the cargo door being unlocked.
So I guess