holy. schlamoly. i feel like i have just ended my quest for the holy f-ing grail. the final clue, it seems, was hidden in an office on the 3rd floor (2nd piano) of a maze of a building in the mind of someone named Mazzriano, who was kind enough to debunk the lies of the woman who is in charge of my program, and hand me a slip of paper with my actual internet password on it (no, i was not suppose to "create up" my own, i was definitely assigned one, like i thought). now i am here, in a computer lounge, in the school which i attend. italy...is weird...
ok, recap though:
i left naxos friday morning on a ginormous and not so glamorous barge sailing toward the mainland. 8 hours later we arrived in pireaus (city of death), one hour later i found the train station (was right next to the dock...dont know how i could have missed it), 2 hours later i got off at my correct subway stop in athens (missed my stop, twice. ended up riding the damned subway all over the place till the subway director said, "where is it, exactly, that you are trying to go?"), one hour after that i finally found my hostel (was directly outside of subway stop...walked right past it...roamed the dangerous streets and finally went up to a cutie policeman who saw me trudging toward him, teary eyed. he opened his arms, palms up, and said with deepest sympathy, "tell me!"...turns out my hostel was directly behind me...he pointed over my shoulder, patted me on my hand, and told me to have a good night).
have not stayed in a hostel since i was 17. at that time it was great fun because a) you had friends with you and b) everyone is drunk and wild and ready to party so it is exciting and you can forget about that fact that you are sharing a room with 10 other smelly, mangey travelers. now that i am a bit older, im not into the hostel scene so much. i opened the door to my room, and directly in front of me was an oldish man, clad in only tighty whiteys, climbing up into the top bunk, completely bent over. i thought, "oh dear god...", changed into a very fancy outfit, and left.
in the lobby the other, not-so-old-going-to-bed-at-11pm-in-tightywhitey hosterlers were preparing to go on some sort of ritualistic mating procession, known as a "pub crawl"...also something i enjoyed more when i was 17. i decided to go with them, because i couldnt go back in that room quite yet, and the neighborhood seemd dark and i just wanted some friends. most of these kids (i say kids...they were about 18-24 years old) were already a bit drunk; it was some scottish girls 21st birthday. as we walked down the street, a pack of foreigners, i cringed and slunk toward the back, as all of the kids were loud, boisterous, shouting into the night, sloshing their to-go cups of whatever miscarriage of a long island ice tea they were devouring onto the shoes of the athenians sitting comfortably but appalled at their dinner tables. as i scouted out my "crawl" mates, i found that they were all english speakers: british, scottish, canadian, australian. for some reason this put me off. we got to the club, and as we were waiting to pay our entrance fee, this kid says, "hello, where are you from?", and when i said "u.s.", the kid snorted and said "oh, shit. well, its ok, just tell everyone youre canadian" (this, i gathered, is where he was from)...i looked at him and (oh my god, it was so mean and foul, i cant believe i said this) replied, "i would rather be impaled through the spine by the member of a particularly large stallion then ever. be. canadian". the kid didnt talk to me after that.
the club was idiotic, at best. the drunk girls were dancing like hookers with some scandinavian boys whose blond hair glowed blue in the black light. i couldnt take it. i left.
i began walking back the way we came, which was actually through a part of town that was called the "old city". it circled the acropolis, and the streets were heavy cobble stone and there were restaurants and flags and beautiful buildings. i was walking past this wine bar and some old man said, "hello! girl! come drink here!"...for some reason, i did. i actually stopped walking, looked at the man, sized up the bar, and said "well alright, what the hell". the bar was one of the prettiest bars that i have ever seen! the walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves full of colorful jars of syrups, illuminated by track lighting that made the place glow multi-colored and euphoric. there were large barrels of wine that lined another wall, and a beautiful woman on a ladder would glide about, tipping the nozzels to dispense which ever wine or beer the lucky customers requested. the old man seemed surprised, but please, that i had actually come in, and he sat me down and said, "ok, describe your best wine". so i told him that currently, i liked white, very dry, not fruity, almost herbal, chilled without actually having to be cold temperature wise. he nodded like he understood and translated to the beautiful bar tender, and she brought me a fantatsic glass of wine from crete (i am learning to LOVE greek wines, they are so underrated). the old man was wonderful and smart and spoke great english. he wasnt creppy or anything, just a man who had lived in athens all of his life, but who had traveled extensively. we talked of other cities and times in history and he had me describe georgia to him. he knew the song, of course, and sang it to me, which was fun. he LOVED that i lived in athens, ga, and we went through and made a compare and contrast list between the two (ex: similarities: excellent sense of fashion, wild party scene, good food, columns, greeks (ha!). differences: bars stay open all night, thousands of years of history, the acropolis, etc).
after a while a group of guys came in and made their way to the bar beside us. i asked the one closest to me for the time, and he showed me his (swiss!) watch and laughed at me cause i said that i couldnt read it. he translated the time to me, and we got to talking, and it turns out he was from switzerland. he pointed to the group of boys that he was with and said, "we are all on a track and field team". i almost fell off my stool, it thought this was too cute. if you want, you can picture them all in red jumpsuits with headbands, white crosses stitched across their chests. this is pretty much accurate. they were all so so nice and cute and they LOVED that i was going to work on a farm. they, of course, all had farmers in their family, and one in particular (who was the captain of the team!) was the "son of a farmer", which they thought was a funny thing to say. i told them about how i was excited to work with pigs and they told me that in switzerland, they play music to the pigs to make them relax, and then they fill their room with laughing gas, and then they quickly shoot them in the temple. clean and pleasant. they said, however, that they bet in italy they just use "big knives".
after a while they decided to go to a club and i tagged along. they were all so jubilant and athletic and we ran down the streets hooting and laughing. turns out we went to the exact same club i had been at before. luckily the people from my hostel had gone. the club was pretty much empty, it was just me, the swiss track and field team, and a newlywed couple from canada (they were AMAZING!!!). the girl started talking to me (she looked like mia wallace from Pulp Fiction), and laughing cause she was like, "oh, my god, are you here with all of them?" and i, of course, thrilled, was like, "well, i guess so!". we all danced, and one of them swung danced with me to abba (he was a fabulous dancer, obviously very lithe, and when we were done he said "you like abba?" and i said, "yes, abba is my dogs favorite band!"), and we sang aerosmith songs and "sweet home alabama" which they liked and they said, "isnt that near you? are the skies really so so blue?".
after a while we went to a cafe across the streets and sat and talked till about 6:30am. i used quinn as a bargaining chip, saying, "if you let me come visit and teach me to ski, ill bring my little sister! shes beautiful!" (on of them, patrik, said, "but youre beautiful"), and they all told me that i must come visit (this guy simon, after telling him that i liked cold climates said, "you can stay in my fridge; theres enough room for you and your cheese"). it was just the funnest, cutest night ever, and i made it back to my hostel by 7am, woke up at 9am, and went to catch my flight to venice...
athens, over all, is absolutely some place i would like to spend more then 12 hours in. it was fun, vibrant i think is the word...artsy and fashionable and urban. gritty, too, though, and in no way fancy. the acropolis shined over me all night and the people were sweet...
oh dear, i have to go to class now, ill be back in a bit...
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