Murphy’s Law: Live in Greece

You know how the saying goes – anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Welcome to the story of my first day in Athens.

I started my day with 3 connections and 21 hours of flying time; after all, it was hard to pass up $350 RT airfare (see: future article on mastering Google Flights). So by the time i touched ground in Athens, I was ready to hop in bed and succumb to jet lag. However, it seems Murphy had another plan in store for me.

Rather than hopping in a cab from the airport while traveling, I try to seek out cheaper bus or train options; in Europe these tend to be especially easy to find, as they knock America’s socks off when it comes to public transportation. When I boarded the $6 bus, advertised as being a 40 minute ride into the city, I still had high hopes of being in bed within the hour. Alas, 1 hour and 25 minutes later, we were still bopping along in bumper to bumper traffic on the edges of the city when the bus driver decided to kick us all off the bus at an unscheduled stop.

Picture this: 60+ suitcase hefting tourists, dropped on the side of who knows what road in who knows what part of town, with no cell service (at least, I don’t pay for cell use while traveling), and no Greek language skills. Comedy ensued.

After following the group of tourists who looked most like they had their sh*t together, I was starting to feel confident that I at least had a general idea of where my hotel may be. Until I walked straight into my first Greek riot. Now, before my mom freaks out, I should elaborate by saying this was not an Athens riot a-la-Jason Bourne; it was more along the lines of a peaceful gathering of humans holding flags. With police in riot gear. Hmm.

Luckily, obvious tourists rolling suitcases and looking lost are invited past police barricades with little effort, and I thought I had made it to the homestretch of finding my hotel. But what did Murphy do then? Break a wheel on my suitcase AND a strap on my purse at the exact same moment? Yes.

Alas, here I am, only 2 hours later, writing from the sanctity of my hotel bed, with feet up the wall de-swelling from my travels. I’d like to end by thanking Murphy for the fact that my wallet, passport, and camera are at least still in my possession, and for the fact that I have a view of the Acropolis out my window.

And the power just went out. I take my thanks back, Murphy.

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