I was most excited about Greece. Now I’m most disappointed with it. I had different expectations than what turned out to be the reality of Crete. I should have know better. But, mostly, I was so excited to go to a really small island and sit on white beaches. We made plans to go to Paros to fulfill our dream of island swimming and blue roof living. Two ferry rides? Check. Two hostels? Check. Taxi service? Check. We went to the first ferry terminal and find out that Iraklia is not Iraklion (also spelt as Heraklion). Plus, there are no ferries leaving for Paros anytime soon. On top of that, the only ferry off of Greece leaves at the end of the day. Fuck. Since we booked the day before and it was the day of travel, cancelations were attempted but didn’t succeed. We spent so much money NOT going to Paros it was incredible. Good thing we didn’t try to go to Santorini. That was sooooo pricey. Now we are left with 9pm departing ferry to Pireaus where we’ll spend another shitty night sleeping on the floor of a shitty Anek ferry. I can’t even begin to think of the violations that ferry line must have. But we have a time frame to think about, so we book the tickets. Luckily, there were two available 19 euro tickets instead of the usual 30-something euro. On to Athens we will go and just get the hell outta Greece. We stored our bags and went out in search of some blow-of-some-steam walking and something to do or see that wasn’t a ferry terminal. To make me feel even better, of course some old Greek man walks up to me for no reason that I’m aware of and tells me to speak Greek the next time I come back to Greece. Dude, I don’t want to come back to your poop- and smoke-filled country any time soon. No worries. Oh, and if you want me to speak Greek so bad and are so upset I speak English, then stop playing US songs in every store! Terrible music, I tell you. I was so bummed out and disappointed with our Greek non-excursion. If we’d had time, it would have been nice to try a redo just to not leave with such weight on our shoulders.
By this time, it is 9am. I kid you not. 9am and so much disappointment already. After a 9am milkshake, we found a beach. I sat and read while Meghan walked. Turned out she thought I was walking behind her until she turned around and didn’t see me. While reading, I noticed a guy who’d walked up to the beach. He sat down about 20 feet away from me and smoked his rolled cigarette. Every time I looked over to see if Meghan was coming back yet, I noticed that he was looking at me. I mean absolutely creepily staring. I’d just go back to my reading. Out of my periph, I see him get up and walk over to me. I had a tank top on and Rosie was showing. He was looking at her. Then he motioned to sit down. He touched my tattoo and arm. I was so creeped out. I was freaking out and not sure what to do. He spoke greek and I didn’t. He didn’t really speak English and I did. He kissed his fingers like they do on TV shows after eating really good food. Then he fucking kissed my shoulder. I mean really kissed it. Lingering. I said, “NO!” Gross, gross, gross. He said he was Albanian. Note to self, don’t go to Albania if this is what guys are like. I just kept reading my book, freaking out because if I got up, I was sure he’d follow. I looked to see if Meghan was back yet, and SHE WAS! I waved crazily at her. She waved back. The Albanian asked if I was his friend. Are you kidding me? I said, pointing at Megs, “THAT is my friend!” I was not upset when he got the impression we were lesbians. He left pretty much after Meghan sat down. We ran away to the other end of the beach where we found lounge chairs. Since we brought our suits, we threw ‘em on, enjoyed the sun, and swam in the ocean.