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So I've made it back to my wonderful, cozy home in New Jersey, thus officially marking the end of my mediterranean adventure and therefore my blog. I hope you enjoyed my posts. Catch you on the flip side!

Goodbye Athens

Today is the last day I have in Greece. My grand adventure is coming to a close. By 2 am tonight I will board a bus that will take me to the airport to begin my long haul back to the United States.

This is a very bittersweet moment. As I write this, I am alone in the apartment, last to leave, just waiting for my time. Looking at the empty walls, the stripped beds, the cleaned out closets, it's almost too hard for me to handle. Yet, I am looking forward to seeing all of my family and friends again. It will be a wonderful change to actually find comfort and a home. Athens brought me lots of joys, as did Pylos and Italy. I have learned more than I could have possibly imagined. I laughed, I cried, both profusely and at times, simultaneously. I have made some precious friends for whom I thank my lucky stars.

Everything was unique. Everything will be treasured. It is inevitable that when placed into these types of situations, the goodbye-type, a fierce sense of nostalgia sets in. Being stranded on Hydra for a weekend without a hotel room: one of the greatest weekends of my life. Climbing up to the sanctuary at Delphi: a purely magical experience. Our fearless guardian, Scout, the stray dog that always follows us at night to make sure we get home safely: now is only a memory. I may even miss these:

Well....maybe.

I can't look at the city, this country, this continent, the world, now and say goodbye, just see you later. I will be back.

Twas the month before Christmas....

Athens at Christmastime is lackluster to say the least. Of course there are lights, but they are sporadic and wimpy. The weather has just started to turn cold, well colder than humid 70 degree "autumn." The trash is just starting to get picked up from a horrendously long garbageman strike.

Since I had some free time after my Modern Greek final this afternoon, I rewrote the the well known poem "Twas a Night Before Christmas" to fit the reality of Athens at Christmastime. I hope you enjoy:

Twas the Month before Christmas

Twas the month before Christmas, when all through the town,

Not a trash can was emptied, and the metro shut down.

The keys were all hung on the sticky tack hooks,

In hopes that the house would be robbed by no crooks.

The ladies were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of verb forms danced in their heads.

And Katie in her tie-dye and I in my boots,

Had just settled many ancient Greek noun disputes.

When out on the street, there arose such a clatter,

I rolled over and slept, not bothering the matter.

Probably a cat or a dog, or a stray,

Was having a fight or so some would say.

The moon that was covered by the old, smelly smog,

Gave the luster to the Hellenic teens having a snog.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a bottle of booze from the OK mart cashier.

And some cops did arrive, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment one must be called Nick.

They did no such search or arrest of any sort,

But he whistled and shouted and called his cohorts.

Now Giannes! Now Potras! Now Gorgos, Andreas!

On mopeds, on scooters, on vespas to Pireaus.

To the top of the hill, to the top of wall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!

As cigarette smoke in the humid air blows,

They whisk away girls, right under her nose

So up to Lykavittos Oh Manos, he flew

With Katie on his back, and obedient too!

But back to the town, lets describe it some more.

Juxtaposed to the new are the ages of yore

Down in Syntagma Square as I walk down the road

No lights, but some riots, maybe a bomb that explodes.

The city’s too poor for even a tree

But the people they say, “Don’t blame it on me!”

The crisis is their fault, or his, of course hers

No money for pine trees, no conifers or firs.

Monastiraki has some twinkling bright lights,

But watch out for drunkards, they get into fights.

Exharkia’s got anarchists, should they take a bow

For stirring up ruckus, so the news has a cow.

Kolonaki is where many a step can be found

So can the “Dream Team,” a name we have crowned

Omonia is where all the cool kids hang out

As do pigeons and homeless and gypsies about

But back in Pangrati, not a storefront is glowing

With garland or tree lights or ribbon a-flowing

The sidewalks are slippery, without even rain,

Walking them in heels, induces great pain

And oh how we wish for a bit of the Spirit

To bring us great cheer, so come on, lets hear it.

But instead we light candles on Sarah’s menorah

And pretend we’re all Jewish and all read the Torah.

But a Christmas we’ll have, in just a short while,

And ignore that bad transcript CYA has on our file,

And we all will exclaim as we fly out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”