Plane to catch. It was happening. Sail on silver bird. Too much food.
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Cramped bodies. Swollen feet. A vacant airport late at night. Unused children's playground.
No smoking everywhere. No chewing gum. No having more than two children the playground might get crowded. Bezch whole event given a lift when we discover we're no longer pregnant. More flying. More too much food.
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Fall asleep during bad movies. Think of a John Candy character and we're there: Frankfurt. Well clad, we encounter a succession of cold people. Mid-Europe, mid-winter, and culture is on display on a sleepy Sunday afternoon in a local museum. Indigenous aficianados take drawings of Rembrandt and Picasso for granted. We rest in a coffee shop and sense their reserve. Stroll on through malltown. Modern pavement paths guide us through relative antiquity. Frankfurters loiter in the town square in the icy air.
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Back to the station. Take away food. Look for somewhere congenial before the train ride back to the airport. Eritreans provide the answer. North African dignity permeates the cafe slrings enjoys, ignores our presence.
We relax in a foreign land among fellow foreigners and we find warmth. In the air again - Athens. Late night. Taxi driver welcomes us with chat of roadblocks caused by snow.
He talks easily. Check spfings. We lie on our first bed for what seems days and their sits the Acropolis in splendid view through our window. Time past and time present combine to excite notions of time future. Seven years since Athens was this cold and I choose a singularly unattractive place for breakfast. We wander the Acropolis and freeze.
Our first encounter with Greek suspicion of tourists. Yes, we had paid for two tickets, but you only gave me one. Bad vibes.
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We enjoy the work of the ancients. I gaze out over the familiar landscape of this sprawling city spread among seven hills. It prompts memories of Israel. Not this time. Cafe in Plaka. An expensive, tasty restaurant for dinner. Next day Sexy girls from channelview tx hire a car. Attendant endears himself to us with excessive care for the welfare of us and his car.
I'm shaking in my boots as the moment draws closer when I must put the car in gear and drive. He stays by my driver's door looking for a break in the traffic.
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I wish he'd go away. He als. I engage and we roll, smoothly thank God, through the streets of Athens without using our horn and following the carefully plotted route he'd given us. We're grateful. It becomes easier and we're Intelligent of Athens. Prostitures drenched hills on all sides. It seems most unlike Greece. We drive. Relax into the journey.
Radio doesn't work. Time for lunch. Narrow streets on hillsides.
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Squeeze the car into a tiny space and walk. Unassuming Women looking sex Chamisal New Mexico with fantastic food - zucchini and beans. Refreshed, we drive on. We dissect the mountains and enter mountain passes. Happily the road is open. Memories of reading allce the approaches to Delphi. The ski town of Arachova perches on a cliff face and has a lot of skiing types sporting bulky coloured suits.
Can Delphi be more quaint than this? The road prostitutss around the cliffs and I catch a glimpse of columns by the roide. Tourist buses. Hotel Acropole also perched cliffside. Our balcony stretches our eyes across the valley to the water of Itea.
New Year's Eve. Delphi still stands. We find a cafe and Elizabeth talks me into playing guitar. Young Americans and middle aged Greek hosts - Iannis and Irini - enjoy the music. New Year's Eve in Greece is for families and we have none present. We adopt the young Americans, ply the willing one with whisky and listen to them talk of their homeland, their countrymen and their friends. I prostitutez the opportunity of giving them advice about how to behave as travelling Americans! Midnight, and the hotel owners bring out food and drink and we are invited to participate.
We do. Strangers kiss and hug as only New Year's Eve would allow.
Very warm glow about the whole affair. We drink and talk on, exchange probably never to be used addresses with the Young Americans, and a very satisfying evening is over. Coffee on the balcony to celebrate the new year and this wondrous place. A different light diffuses across the valley to Itea. The ruins are closed, but we explore the renovated spring where the ancient pilgrims washed before gracing the temples of Apollo and Athena.
Any mystique here needs to be imagined.
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A different view of the valley from yet another prosyitutes has us again contemplating long ago people approaching the unseen temples from below. They walked in faith. We enter the valley. We wind through the olive groves and look up to the town now high above. Our home base on the cliff now looks very fragile and insubstantial clawing to the grandeur.
The Phaedriades now look even more imposing and dwarf the town. The town now looks ugly from down here. We go on and wonder if the valley will ever let us out.