I’m tired. I’m tired of people speaking foreign languages. I’m tired of being shoved. I’m tired of feeling like a walking dollar sign. I’m tired of being gawked at. I’m tired of deciding what restaurant to eat at. Then I’m tired of deciding what to eat at that restaurant. I’m tired of ruins. I’m tired of churches. I’m tired of museums. I’m tired of talking. I’m tired of listening. I’m tired of trying to make myself understood. I’m tired of trying to be interested. I’m tired of sleeping in strange beds. I’m tired of trying to figure out where I’m going. And most importantly, I’m tired of living out of a suitcase, wearing the same clothes over and over again and lugging that godforsaken albatross of a suitcase around. Think I’m ready to come home??? Ha! I’m sure you all feel SO sorry for me-NOT! Trust me when I say that 6 months is a very long time to travel continuously. But 100% worth the tired days.
Deb says it’s sort of like a pregnant woman who is nearing her due date who just wants that baby out! I know I only have a few days left, and it’s making me sad that it’ll all be over soon, but also anxious to just get it over with and get back to my life back home, whatever that will be! I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want out of life and the way I want to spend my time. It’s unfortunate that everything I WANT to do doesn’t necessarily pay the big bucks (if any bucks!) I’m grappling with the two opposing forces of “make money” vs. “make art.” I know you can make money making art, but it’s not easy. I get so caught up in the “How do I do it?” that I never really get started on anything because I get overwhelmed with fear and self-doubt. I’ve been asking myself, how do other people do it? If someone wants to write a book, how do they get started? If someone wants to make art and have it shown in a gallery, how do they do it? I’ve decided that it’s irrelevant to focus on the how. What’s important is to just get started. Then once you have a concept that you start working on and developing, then you can start worrying about how it might make you a living. Why worry about something that doesn’t yet exist? Worry about giving birth to that thing so that you can THEN worry about getting it into the right hands that can help make your dream come true. But having said all that, I DO still need to make money so I’ve got to figure that one out…soon.
We went back to our little bakery for breakfast again today and tried the Greek coffee. It is served differently, but tastes an awful lot like the Turkish coffee I’d had. It has the thick sludge at the bottom of the pot when you’re done, and has a similar very strong flavour. It gave me the jolt I needed to get moving on this day where I was so tired. And cranky. Sorry Deb!
|In Turkey they tell you your fortune in your coffee sludge. We thought it was a VERY good sign that Deb’s sludge had a heart shape form itself on the side of her cup.|
We decided to just walk around the Plaka and do some shopping. There was a protest going on in Syntagma Square. This city is really suffering with all of this crap. We’re both a little worried about what’s going to happen tomorrow because the various forms of public transit is on rotating strikes, and the air traffic controllers are on strike until midnight tonight. Not that I don’t love Athens, but I’m ready to get the heck out of here! The protesters were under control and seemed peaceful enough so we just snuck by and went on our merry way. I was going to look for some jeans, but in my cranky, tired state I really wasn’t in the right mindset required for trying on jeans. It’s painful enough at the best of times, let alone when I’m hot and bothered! It was another hot day and we were both feeling pretty wilted so we went back to our room for a little siesta after lunch. I really wish we did the siesta in North America. It really IS so refreshing! I felt so much better after our little nap!
|This was a guy just roaming the streets selling these giant basil plants. Restaurants were coming out to buy them, as well as people on the street.|
|This is Grouchypants from Paros. She was the mom of those 4 cute kittens in Paros.I’m posting her because I didn’t get any photos of kitties today. Deb thought she must have some Siamese in her since she’s cross eyed.|
|This was a beautiful little church in behind the large church in the square.|
We went back to Moma for dinner again. This restaurant was another of Deb’s CEO Jonathan’s recommendations and we had dined there the night before last. Deb had a risotto that night and I had owl. Yes, owl. I actually had to ask the waiter, is this owl, as in the bird? He cracked up, because in fact it is not the bird. It’s pronounced OHL, and is a Cretan specialty. It is barley rusk bread, almost like a giant crouton slathered in fresh tomatoes, large capers, olives and xinomithragrappa served ice cold. It was nice but a bit too boozy for my liking. All in all, it was a nice day despite my whining.