oozey mess
Not today Justin
trying on a metaphor
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
NASA
taylor price
No title available
tannertan36
Origami Around
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if i look back, i am lost
occasionally subtle
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
we're not kids anymore.
Sade Olutola
AnasAbdin
seen from Armenia
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@vanliewabroad
(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrCVrasb_o0)
I made a promo video for my friend’s Multi sport Event Company! Check it out! And if you are in the PNW and interested in triathlons, duathlons, or running events, consider adding a Best in the West Event to your racing schedule! Awesome events, well organized, supah fun!!
http://www.bestinthewestevents.com
I'm not going to lie, smiling and celebrating through the finish of a race is one of the greatest feelings ever. A little over a year ago I joined the Oregon State University Triathlon Club. A little less than a year ago I did my first Olympic Distance Triathlon. I was definitely not smiling through the finish chute. Boy did that hurt. Still, somehow from then on I was hooked. I did one more race at the end of summer, and at that time I told myself there was no way I would ever go to Nationals. Not fast enough. Not experienced enough. Not good enough.
Some way, some how, that changed. As the year progressed I got more and more excited about the sport and created a bunch of goals for myself for this season. By the time the National's application came out, I surprised myself by applying. Coming out of pneumonia though, I definitely did not have high expectations for myself. I was just going for the experience. But I worked my butt off in the 10 weeks leading up to the race after I found out I had been accepted to go. I just wanted to finish in as close to 3 hours as I could. This would mean a 25 minute personal best for me. I would have to shave 25 minutes off from my previous best race. It wasn't saying much because I barely trained for my previous races, but I was still anxious to see if I could do it. Especially since I was only getting about 10 solid weeks of training in, and I missed the base building phase in the fall because of sickness.
With all the rain and snow and weird weather, I spent a lot of hours on the bike trainer. And in those hours I would envision what it would feel like to break 3 hours. I imagined how it would feel to have a great race; to lay it all out on the line and finish strong. Those thoughts alone would get my heart pumping and put a smile on my face. But still there were doubts. In high school I did cross country and I was always the slow one. I have never been confident in my running, and I hardly have any biking experience. So why would I think I could even become a decent triathlete. And every week training was hard. Every week I felt defeated from the very minimal gains I would see. But every week I continued to work and envision breaking 3 hours.
Collegiate National Championships features the country's fastest triathletes! Needless to say, I was freaking out! We arrived in Arizona and I was kind of in shock to be there. Never in a million years would I have thought I would get the chance to be a part of that experience. I was so stoked to have that opportunity, but also terrified that I would get last place.
I needn't have worried.
For the first time ever, I felt great during a race. I felt strong, I held my pace and enjoyed the whole thing, never forgetting to be thankful for my chance to be there. I caught myself smiling several times throughout. Also for the first time ever, I passed people on the bike and the run! And I held them off! So when I finally got to that finish chute, yeah, I was celebrating! I have never felt so strong in a race as I did this past weekend. And I'm super excited about the fact that this is only the beginning! Triathlon has changed a lot for me in the past year and I'm so grateful for the sport and the community. I'm looking forward to many more years and many more races to come!
Oh, and I finished in 2:51:13!! 9 minutes under my goal time :) With PR's in all 3 events, I broke my early season bike goal, my late season swim goal (guess I need a new swim goal for the rest of the season!), and was only 1 second off from my early season run goal...but I bet celebrating down the finish chute added a few extra seconds, and I definitely don't regret that ;)
My Micro-Spring Break Trip
Over the weekend I ski'd around Crater Lake. The thing is, the only time I've ever been on cross country ski's before was in December in Corvallis during that random snow storm. I literally parked at a bar downtown and ski'd with friends to a park and back. A grand total of 5 miles on completely flat, compacted snow, and without heavy packs. After that experience I thought, cross country skiing is the greatest! It's not even that hard, just pure fun.
Well. Crater Lake receives an annual average of 44 FEET of snow. Also, it's kind of in the middle of the Cascade Mountain Range...aka NOT flat. Have you ever tried skiing up hill? Have you ever tried skiing ~4000 feet up hill between 33 miles of backcountry snow, breaking your own trail while carrying large backpacks? How about skiing through Avalanche zones and on sheer cliffs, where one mistake could surely lead to certain death. Have you tried to do all of that in a day and a half? Only about 60 people a year even attempt to ski around the entire rim. Only about half of them actually finish. Most of those who do, take 3-4 days for the entire trip. Our goal was to do it in a day and a half.
The rangers looked skeptical. All the write-ups about it on the internet definitely recommended several nights. So did the rangers. We weren't buying it. We were gonna do it our way. I went with a friend and his roommate, did some haphazard planning a few days before, and left at 6am friday morning with very little idea how this was going to pan out. The park entrance greeted us with 8 ft. snow banks on either side of the road. After checking in with the ranger, setting up shuttle, and repacking our bags, we finally hit the trailhead around 12:45pm. Within the first 5 minutes I had already fallen twice. And that was only the beginning. Starting out on a 1000 ft. climb I did ok. As soon as it flattened out, or, God forbid, went even slightly downhill, I was done. On the ground. I kept my attitude up pretty easily the first day. I must have looked hilarious falling on my face so often. The packs added quite a bit more difficulty than I was expecting. Not only did they throw my balance off, but once I was on the ground, trying to get back up was quite the endeavor.
The first avalanche zone was no biggie. The second one however, I genuinely feared for my life. The possibility of falling off the cliff or starting a slide became very real. We took it slowly, one at a time, and eventually made it through. (I should note the only other time I have actually been afraid for my life was getting lost on Mt. Olympus for an hour...maybe I need to stop hanging out on mountains??) Nah.
We didn't actually see the lake until about 10 miles in. Our goal was to get as close to 15 miles as possible that first day, and I think we hit pretty close to 14. We stopped just in time to set up camp before sunset. I could already tell how beat I was, and thinking of waking up the next morning to do it again was rough. However, the sky that night. Ah-ma-zing. Stars for daysss. Despite carrying my nice(ish) camera and a tripod, I was wayyy too cold and exhausted to try taking any fancy pictures. I turned in pretty early to escape the wind. It was my first time snow camping and letmetellyou. It's not my favorite. I have never felt more Southern California girl in my entire life.
We started off again around 9:30am and planned for about a 9 hour day of skiing. About an hour and a half in, we ran into the first group of people we had seen since we started. They thought we were crazy for wanting to finish by that night. We were maybe halfway done, and they had already been camping for 2 nights on the trail, and weren't planning to finish until the next day. However, we insisted that we could make it happen. Until about 5 minutes later. When I fell on a patch of ice. HARD. I tell you, the bruise on my thigh is the biggest I've ever had. After that, the trip became much harder. My knees and ankles were already shot from the 21 falls the day before (I stopped counting falls after 30...), and this only added to it all. We hit our first major downhill section, and I downright refused. I don't even know, I just was NOT feeling the downhills. Which is weird, because I have definitely downhill ski'd way steeper slopes than these, but I don't know. Maybe it was the heavy packs, maybe it was the bruises and fatigue... I just don't know. All I do know is that I took off my skis and walked to the bottom, sinking into thigh deep snow with every step. I knew I eventually had to toughen up and put the ski's back on because we had too far to go and there was no way I was walking the whole way. What followed was a nearly 2 mile gradual downhill, super fast and super terrifying (for me). We hit a part of the road where the snow had melted and we had to walk between these sections. It afforded some perfect lunch time views. Then we were back to the climbing, at least a 2 mile segment of about 1000 ft. gain. We were slowly making our way around the lake and each time the lake came back into view we were more and more assured we would make it back by sunset. However, this is when I noticed how much I was slowing down. My legs were simply moving in slow motion. Each fall took longer and longer for me to pick myself back up. My shoulders and neck were absolutely wasted from my pack. I know I've been backpacking plenty of times before, but something about this was different. (When I got home, I saw that I had blistering rashes where each of my backpack straps had been...no wonder). The sun was beating down (it was a whopping 50 degrees!), but at high elevation and with the reflection off the snow, sunburn happened way fast. And the chapped lips. Ohhh the chappedness. And the rawness of my hands and arms from landing in the icy snow so many times. Boy was I a mess. Eventually we got to the point where we started seeing more people out. And with each group that passed they gave us more and more confidence we would finish by the end of the day. "Only 9 miles left." "2 more climbs and it's all down hill!" "6 miles left!" "You're almost to the top and then there's one gnarly downhill section. After that you can just cruise the last 5 miles to the parking lot."
We got to the gnarly downhill part and yeah.. Gnarly is right. Let me paint a picture. There was about a 10 foot wide section of trail. On one side was a mountain, the other...a straight drop off. In between, a steep icy slope that dropped about 15 ft. Again I took off my skis and refused to even attempt this part. We turned the corner, and it was basically a bunch of downhill, but the trail was pretty much on top and if you fell...well. It was going to be bad. I just kept off the skis, I'm sure to the annoyance of my friends (who were way better skiiers BTW). However, they took off and I was left to conquer the last of the sketchy slopes alone. I made it about 20 feet before I fell, this time straddling the top of a little snow peak. On one side it was about a 15 ft. drop to the bottom of the snowpack. The other side was a complete drop off the mountain and certain devastation. My pack had come off one shoulder and was making it real hard for me to stay balanced. My skis were stuck and my legs mangled. I think I just sat there and cried for a few minutes. I was completely exhausted. Like never before. My shoulders were raw, my legs totally battered, my face chapped, and my hands totally scraped up. I knew this was a defining moment. I had been enthusiastic for this trip. I chose to be here. And I was the only one who was going to get myself out of there. No one else. Me. I knew I had to buck up, so I finally was able to get off my skis and walk down to the end of the cliff-y section. Sinking thigh deep into snow with every step. I know that could have been a very precarious situation had I slipped or let my fatigue get the best of me. But it was a mind-over-matter moment. The one's who survive, the one's who go the farthest, the one's who succeed, are the one's who can stay positive despite the circumstances. I knew I was a wreck. I knew I could barely lift my pack onto my shoulders anymore. I stopped drinking and eating because every time I had to remove my pack, I was less and less likely to put it back on, get up, and keep trucking. If I was gonna finish this thing, I had to just keep going and not stop. I just kept falling. Each fall got worse. Eventually I did a down right face plant where my backpack flew forward hitting the back of my head, knocking my hat off and my face straight into the snow. My legs twisted up with my skis and I just cried again. I was so sick of falling. So frustrated, so completely fatigued. So effing ready to be out of there. I had to completely remove my backpack and skis to get out of this one. And after that I forced my mind to accept the fact that I was likely to keep falling. I knew I was exhausted. I knew in a normal circumstance I would have sat down and given up. Refused to move. But I did not want to spend one more night out there. I wanted to accomplish my goal of making it out in only 1 night. I wanted to prove everyone wrong and test how strong I could make myself be. I got up and kept going. With about a half hour to sunset, I saw a glimmering log cabin-y looking building. Do my eyes deceive me?? I thought it was just some bunker for people lost in the backcountry, but secretly I was hoping it was the lodge, and therefore the end of this trip. I was barely moving by this point. There was a small final climb, and I inched my way up to see... cars! I took one last look behind me to see the sun setting over the vast snowy forest and the incredibly beautiful Crater Lake to my left.
As painful as that trip was, it was simply an incredible experience. I found a new strength I never knew I had. I learned that I am simply not a good skier, and next time I plan a backcountry ski trek...to make sure I have a little more practice. (or a lot more practice). But we accomplished our goal, became some of the few people who make the trip annually, and saw an incredible part of nature. It was truly beautiful and I hope I can make my way back to actually enjoy it, and not suffer through it some day.
Not a bad sendoff into the real world.
Ok, so...
I know it's been a dang long time since I've updated this blog, but recently I've been feeling like it's time to begin writing for fun again. I mean, now there is just all this time where I don't have to feel guilty about doing things that are not school related...mostly because school is done for me..at least for now!
Yes, today was my last day of undergrad. And a rather anticlimactic day at that. My finals week consisted of entirely online exams, and while that made for my easiest finals week ever, it also didn't really give me that feeling of walking out of my last final and feeling that sense of, "Yeah, I'm done!" Not that I'm complaining or anything. It's so bittersweet, just as I'm sure most people feel when their college time comes to an end.
My past 4 and 2/3 years have spanned across 3 different U.S. states, 4 continents, and 20+ countries. I am beyond blessed. I have experienced so many ridiculous things and fulfilled so many of my wildest dreams already. I do not dare to take any of that for granted. I thank God every day for giving me a passion to pursue life with all that I have. From here on out, I must take things day by day, because I honestly do not know what is next for me. All I can pray for is that I keep on, keepin' on. Life will be wonderful and beautiful and scary, but I think I am prepared to venture out into the big crazy world and find a nice little place for myself.
Anyways, while I am in the midst of all this figuring-out-of-life stuff, I have some strange inclination to write about it. Weird, I thought I majored in SCIENCE. Oh well. Life is kinda funny that way. I have a few exciting adventures coming up, but other than that I am genuinely unsure of what the heck I want to do with my life.
For now though, I want to give a huge thank you to all the people I've encountered in the last 5 years. Even the ones who were only brief, I am certain you left a lasting impact on me. Not to layer on all the cheese, but you have all shaped the way I see the world, opened my mind, and inspired me to reach for more. Ok that was a lot of cheese. But truly, I am blessed by all you wonderful people in my life.
Much love,
Danielle
Antarctic Sunsets
Creatures of Antarctica
Icebergs of Antarctica
Ushuaia, Argentina
I went to Antarctica in December, and here is a little bit of footage I played around with :) Blog post to follow.
Lion Heart. I love you Jer
My beautiful cousin, in honor of my other beautiful cousin. Love you always, Jeremy.
Missing the Sierra's. Circa 2006.
I believe that every human has a finite number of heartbeats and I don’t intend to waste any of mine…
Neil Armstrong (via thatkindofwoman)
I could not help sharing this. So beautifully animated, and I am SO pumped for the games!
You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.”
Azar Nafisi (via thatkindofwoman)
Litochoro/Mt. Olympus
Remember, it was Kara’s birthday when we bussed to Litochoro. The man we got our ticket from told us to get off at the Litochoro Medical Center and wait 5 minutes for a bus that would take us in to the town. Well we had a real asshole of a bus driver as we experienced several times. Since it was quite a long bus ride, there was a stop for bathroom/food. The bus stopped and people started getting off, but I assumed it was a drop-off because no one (the driver) mentioned that it was the rest stop. We eventually figured it out when everyone had left the bus and no one brought his or her belongings. We went to the bathroom but noticed a buffet style food service that most people were lining up for. So we guessed we had time to get something. I asked the driver how long the bus was stopping for, and he looked at me sternly and said “No.” Cool, thanks bro. Kara and I got food anyways (spaghetti and a drink), but after about 3 bites everyone starts walking out towards the bus. One lady who recognized me came over and tried to explain we were leaving. Kara grabbed two cups and we dumped our food to bring, but as we got to the bus, the driver goes “no, no, no!!” So we had to go back and dump our overpriced, less-than-half-eaten €14 meal! Happy birthday Kara. The rest of the ride we were a little grumpy.. Of course the driver also didn’t mention our stop when it came, and how were we supposed to recognize that a random bench in the middle of a field was where we needed to get off. Luckily some guys getting off told us this was our stop and we got off to wait for the final bus. 5 minutes passed, then 10, and then about 30 minutes or more before our bus finally came. As we were waiting, many cars passed. 90% of them turned their heads to stare at us and/or honk. Have they never seen white girls before? Cars full of grown men would slow down just to watch these two girls with huge packs standing in the middle of nowhere. (We later found out they were military men heading home, and they hadn’t seen girls for quite some time).
Anyways, we got off in Litochoro and immediately felt more peaceful than when in Athens. It was small and quaint, and you could look one way up the road and see the Sea, and turn around to stare straight at Mt. Olympus. A CouchSurfer unable to host us from the area recommended a cheap place to stay, which was very easy to find. We had to try and salvage what was left of the day, so we found a local bakery, bought a little cake, and went back to our room to watch Eat, Pray, Love. Yes. That was our big 21st birthday bash. Our drink of choice? Milk. . . . . . . . . . . . Yeah. That happened. Whatever. Don’t judge.
The next day we slept in!! Glorious, beautiful sleep. We had breakfast at the only place in town that served breakfast. Nasty, oily omelettes. At least they had iced coffee. We had yet another deep conversation, and Kara tried to teach me how to put my hair in a bun. I used the window next to me to guide me, and only some time later noticed the two men inside watching, laughing. As we were paying the bill, our waitress let us know that the two men inside wanted to buy us drinks. Uhhh, what? It was like 11:30am… Anyways, we sat there a little longer, and then went in to thank them. They were like 50! Ugh. And we weren’t exactly sure where they were coming from. But they were nice and gave us some tips for the mountain the next day. We explored a little after that, and found a path leading to a river. The rest of that lazy afternoon was spent taking photos, talking, and sitting down by the river. We accidently walked into some Stinging Nettles, which I was terrified of because we don’t have them in California and I had never encountered this plant before. It only lasted about an hour, but at first I definitely thought I had contracted some crazy Greek disease.
We had pita gyros for dinner (surprise surprise!), and I honestly don’t remember what we did the rest of that night. Probably watched Eat Pray Love again haha. Kidding. The next morning we had plans to hike Mt. Olympus! We found a couch for Thessaloniki, where we would be flying out of in a few days. She mentioned that her brother would be available to hike with us if we wanted a guide. Heck yeah we did. He called us a few days prior and had access to all sorts of gear we were going to need. I completely underestimated the hike. I knew someone who hiked it last summer and he did it in shorts and running shoes. I wasn’t expecting to run into all sorts of crazy cold weather… But alas, my friend hiked in August, and this was only May! We started the hike around 1pm, and it was POURING rain. The entire way. 7 hours of hiking through dense wetness. It was a pretty epic hike, to say the least. There are several refuges on Mt. Olympus, and we stopped at the first one (about half way to the Refuge we would be staying the night at). When we arrived, Kara and I got many looks while the group conversed loudly and quickly in Greek. With us was Byron and Nikos (I told you, everyone is named Nick, Nicki, Nikos, etc…). They were both around 30 years old, but they were really nice guys, so everything was great. Apparently the people at the refuge were mountain Rescue, and they were not convinced we were prepared for this. The weather was awful, and they definitely thought we were just ditzy North Americans with no idea what was going on. I’ll have you know, I’ve climbed many mountains in the past few years, most of them way bigger than the 9000 ft. of Mt. Olympus. I’ll also admit I way misjudged this trek. I was unprepared beforehand, but with the gear they guys brought for us, we were fine. They gave both Kara and I another pair of pants but we both felt more restricted and uncomfortable in them. And they weren’t even waterproof so they just got soaked and ended up making us way colder than we would have been with what we brought. Anyways, we left the refuge for a much steeper part of the trail where we were pretty much pulling ourselves up by grabbing tree branches and bushes, and when we finally made it to a clearing, we got caught in a tremendous thunderstorm. Now Zeus was just showing off. But I became quite worried because it was getting closer and we were very exposed. With the minimal wilderness medicine training I’ve had bubbling up to the forefront of my mind, I looked for places of refuge, but there was really nowhere to go if the lighting came even closer. Thankfully, Zeus eased up with his target practice, but there was still hours of hiking to go, it was getting windier, and we were all sopping wet. We hit some snow patches that we had to cross on the narrow ridges of Mt. Olympus and finally one huge patch (around 200-300 meters across) later and we were at our final refuge! The guys had been very slow throughout the hike. They were smokers and very out of shape. Kara and I are both in rather good shape so we were quite annoyed at having to wait for these guys, and they were quite annoyed that these two young girls were showing them up on the mountai. We let them lead for a while to allow them to gain some of their dignity back, but by the time we could see our refuge in the distance, Kara and I were completely spent. We decided not to wait for them and just powered through the snow to reach it. We open the door and walk in to see about 15 Greek men lounging around in their long john's. They all looked quite happy to see us and were very welcoming. Haha, not another woman in sight! They gave us some private space to thaw out and change. There were some nice pairs of crocs they had available for hikers to wear around inside. When we were done, our guys had arrived and we sat down to some nice, hot, big bowls of homemade leek and pork stew. Kara and I shared a French press of coffee to warm up, even though it was 8:30pm. We had some interesting conversations about rock climbing and the Bible (not in the same context...) with Byron and Nikos before Kara and I heading upstairs to find bunks. We found 2 together that we shared, but let me tell you, sleeping in a room full of loud, drunk, and snoring Greek men is not really possible. More like lying down hating your life to a room full of loud, drunk, snoring Greek men. The coffee didn’t exactly help us dawdle off into dream land either. And then I had to pee so bad but the bathroom was down the bunk, down the ladder, out the door 100 meters into the snow and into a building with a few holes in the ground for toilets. So it’s not like that was exactly an option. Not without a light anyways. So as I lie there I couldn’t help but be reminded of how the 16th century Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe died from a bladder infection resulting from not peeing for so long.
Thankfully I didn’t meet that same fate, and at first light I waddled as fast as I could down to the hole. Kara and I ate breakfast around 7:30, but the guys weren’t up yet (the only ones still asleep), so we decided to just go back to bed until they woke up. 3 hours later. While it was clear in the morning when we first woke up, by the time the guys were ready it was foggy and snowing. It was complete white out on that long snow patch, and the sleety snow didn’t stop until we were well past the rest of the glaciers. But at this point the visibility was about 50 ft as everything was covered in dense fog. We had no idea which way to go because the markers were so few and far between at this point, and we were to that giant clearing where there was no trail. So we head out in what we thought was the right direction, but we were a few meters off the mark, ending up on the opposite side of another huge snow bank. There was no way we could cross it on the steep slope it was on so we continued downward until we were nice and good and lost. At this point we were scrambling down it was so steep. Holding on to rocks, trees, roots, and bushes in hopes not to tumble down the slick, dewy slopes of Mt. Olympus. After about an hour of this, to the point where going up would have been a dangerous option, and continuing downward for too much longer would not be an option either, we lucked out and found some trail markers. I was starting to get very worried because I could just imagine getting stuck on this mountain in wet clothes, no food, little water, and no cell service to call for help. And I hadn’t eaten since 7:30 am (and that was only a few pieces of bread), and it was nearing 2pm. We stopped at the refuge to drop off our borrowed pants, and continued down for a few more hours to reach the car. My stomach was in so much pain from not eating all day and burning so many calories, I was nearly keeled over. It was 5:30 by the time we reached the car. 10 hours of no food, and just over 5 hours of hiking.
The guys redeemed themselves by taking us to a nice restaurant for dinner where we had salad, grilled mushrooms in balsamic dressing (YUM!), pasta, and ice cream. Then Nikos drove us all back to Thessaloniki where we stayed with Byron and his sister (as she had offered to host us a week prior. I would tell you about the chaos of trying to leave the next morning, but it’s not that important and I’m tired of writing…so I’ll end by saying I waited in the Thessaloniki airport all day for my 5pm flight to London where I met my parents for a few weeks of travel. I will also say the RyanAir lost my boarding pass and almost didn’t let me board the plane. Even though I was by far the first person there… Crazy end to the trip of a lifetime.
Athens!
My, my, 6 hours on a ferry tends to feel quite long. However, we finally made it to Piraeus, the port about 10k from Athens. Remember, we were planning to meet our friend Nick for our place to stay. He told us to take the Metro to Dafni station, where he would pick us up around 11:30pm. Upon arriving at Piraeus, we already wished we were back on the islands. All the hustle and bustle that comes with a big city was present here and more. Dirty, grimy streets, a once prosperous area now completely run down, Kara and I stuck out even more than we did on the islands. After getting lost trying to find our bearings, we ran into a lone backpacker from Australia, also looking for the metro. It was nice to be around a big imposing looking guy while trying to navigate the dark port streets. He was nice to talk to, but we were all getting off at different stations, so we said goodbye and continued on to Dafni. Once we arrived, we were starving, and still had a couple hours to kill while waiting for Nick. We found a pasta place where we had some delicious, cheap pasta, and I registered for my classes for fall term. Nick came and brought us back to his apartment, giving Kara and I his bed while he slept on the couch. We tried to convince him that we should stay on the couch, but he insisted: “It’s my couch.” How ironic, he was CouchSurfing on his own couch! Nick had work all day the next day, so we had to be out by 8am, where he dropped us off at the metro station and we could do what we wanted until he met up with us at 11:30pm again.
This day just so happened to be my 21st birthday! We wanted to do some shopping today, so Nick told us where to get off for that, and we wandered around until we found a decent place for breakfast. Athens is a huge city, with 7 million inhabitants! We wandered in and out of shops, trying things on and generally enjoying the sunshine once again. We really wanted to find a pair of shoes, and there were about a hundred shoe stores all next door to each other down on this street. We thought we would have no problems finding a pair, but wouldn’t you know it took about 30 stores before we actually found some. No matter though, we were very happy with our purchases.
After so much shopping, we were thinking about how much we disliked Athens, and how maybe we should leave the next day instead of hanging around until the day after. Well, we better get on to seeing some of the ancient temples and other historical places of Athens. First we found the Temple of Zeus, and next to it the Panathanaic Stadium. Built in 566 BC, this is the first Olympic stadium ever, and it was really cool to wander through it and imagine what it would have been like all those years ago. You can even walk through the tunnel where the athletes used to run out onto the stadium from! We were able to see the acropolis on the hill from this part of the city, but it was closed at this time and we would have to wait until morning. We walked back to the metro via a street lined in orange groves and guards in all their funny uniforms (complete with pom poms on the toe of the shoes, and tassels on the calf of the sock). We took the metro to an area where we thought we would look for dinner, but it ended up feeling very sketchy, being less comfortable to us than anywhere else we had thus been. We looked through a guide book and found a new stop we thought we’d try. It was perfect. Monastiraki. Very tourist friendly, exactly what two white girls needed. Some guys were playing their drums in the streets while little Greek boys imitated break dancing. Some old man even joined in, a very awkward and hilarious sight indeed. Kara and I planned to wear dresses and the heels we bought that day to celebrate our birthdays. Kara’s 21st is the day after mine. Anyways, we found a restaurant with an excellent view of the Acropolis, and ran into the bathrooms to freshen up and change. We walked out in our heels and immediately noticed how our service changed. From half paying attention to us, to all of a sudden being at our every beck and call. We immensely enjoyed being immature that night, snickering and cracking jokes at everyone and everything. Because Kara told them it was my birthday, the server gave us wine on the house. However, as we were leaving, I really started to feel sick. It was not good wine. My stomach was not so happy. Anyways, we still had a fun time trying to navigate through the cobblestone streets of Athens in our new stilettos, and I tripped more than enough times to convince anyone I was drunk as could be. All to loud bursts of laughter from both Kara and myself. We kept walking, hoping to stumble on a good place for dessert and drinks. However, by the time we sat down, my stomach was really hurting. The funniest waiter was at our service, and he kept us thoroughly entertained for the next hour. He took a particular liking to me, while his greasy waiter friend grew a fondness for Kara. We ordered baklava, which was not very good here, and I’m afraid Kara is scarred forever, never again willing to attempt to try the traditional dessert. This baklava did not help my stomach condition. When a young gypsy girl came and tried to sell us flowers, greasy buddy came and ran her out, but came back a few minutes later with flowers for both Kara and me. Then our original waiter comes out and yells at greasy buddy, “They don’t want gypsy flowers! It’s their birthday!! They want drinks! I will go get drinks!” He comes back later with “shots” of ouzo. By shots I mean 3 shots in each glass. And oh boy by this time I was really feeling sick. I felt bad that I only had a few bites of the dessert, and nothing of the ouzo, but I could just not handle it at that moment. The waiter was understanding, he told me all the restaurants use horrible cheap wine. After some more witty banter, Kara and I decided it was time to go try and get ahold of Nick as it was nearing 11:30. We walk down the street, but we hear running towards us, and turn to see our waiter chasing after us. He told us they get off at 12am, and if we wanted to meet them here then, they would take us out and we could get drinks and go to a club. Kara and I both thought that sounded fun, and I so wish we could have, but I just felt awful, and we still hadn’t heard from Nick. We made it back towards the metro station, where the square was so crowded with tourists just a few hours prior, but was now full of sketchy locals. One guy was circling Kara and I on his bike as we made our way to a better lit part. Some Indian guys approached and wanted us to go clubbing with them. Yes, little 4-foot tall man with a hot pink Hollister polo and popped collar, I would like to go clubbing with you. We told them we had to meet a friend, but of course they didn’t believe us. Finally we got rid of them and sat to wait in a little deli thing. We were way over dressed, had nothing with us, hadn’t heard from Nick, and it was nearing midnight. We hadn’t heard from him since 9pm, and we were both more than a little worried. We didn’t know whether to take the subway to closer to his house, or wait there. All we knew was that we had nothing we could do. He seemed like a nice guy, but could he be scamming us? We left our passports at his house, my computer, and everything else in our packs. We actually had no idea what to do. In a city where we knew no one, didn’t speak the language, knew nothing about the guy we were staying with-not even a last name, nor where he lived, etc, we were very scared. We changed our shoes and decided to get on the subway once more. As we walked into the building, Nick called!! Only 45-minutes late, but hey, what sweet relief to hear from him! We couldn’t even be mad we were so relieved. He told us to take it to where he was. However, in all our exhaustion or nerves or whatever, of course we got on it the wrong direction. We got off and ran to an attendant asking how to get back, but the line had just closed. That was the last train for the night! We called Nick again but guess what! He didn’t answer! We thought we would find a taxi, but thankfully Nick called us back and told us he would come pick us up. What a guy. When we finally found him and were safe in his car, exhaustion hit hard! It wasn’t exactly the 21st birthday I’d always imagined, but it was memorable nonetheless. We got back, hung out with Nick for a few minutes, and then went fast to sleep. Only to wake up and be out by 8am again. This time we brought our stuff with us and said our final goodbye to Nick outside the Metro station. This time it was Kara’s birthday and we were going to the Acropolis! We got some coffee and juice there, left our bags in storage, and made our way to the entrance. Thankfully we saved some money by having our Limerick school ID’s. With a student ID card from Europe you get in for free! (Otherwise it’s €12). Let me tell you they definitely did not want to believe we had Irish ID. It’s pretty unbelievable being in the presence of something as old as the Acropolis. It’s huge, it’s old, it’s crumbling, it’s amazing. It’s actually unreal. To think about what it looked like before surrounded by dirty, crowded housing tracts, you can just imagine fields of cows and other livestock, boys practicing sword fighting, and those traditional Grecian sandals on the feet of important member of society as they held important meetings in the walls of the once completely in-tact Acropolis. We finished looking at the temple and headed back down to the Acropolis museum, where we stood in the presence of statues and other ancient artifacts. Then we had lunch and made our way to try and find the bus station to take us to Litochoro where we would climb Mt. Olympus from. It’s a good thing we left early, because we had to take a metro, walk a few blocks, take a city bus to one bus station, then catch another city bus to another bus station where we bought a ticket for a 5 hour bus ride where we got off and waited for another bus that took us to Litochoro. And all of that while trying to read Greek. Easy, right?
