My Horoscope Predicted This Would Happen

I totally get why most of the population doesn’t read their horoscopes. Most of the magazines and websites that print monthly zodiac predictions just spew out vague details that can be bent and misconstrued until they fit everyone who was born in the month of October. Despite this fact, I am obsessed (quite unabashedly) with reading my horoscope on the first of each month. I read AstrologyZone.com, which publishes a very detailed analysis at the beginning of each month. Yes, I take it with a grain of salt, but it tends to be pretty accurate most of the time. (I know, I just said that most of the horoscopes can be made to fit, but whatever…) So this month, I happen to read my horoscope and it’s all about not traveling the second half of the month. There are a few lines about miscommunication and travel-related blunders, but I decided to ignore the astrological warnings. I was already traveling after all, and had no plans on turning around just because AstrologyZone.com warned Capricorns to be cautious in September. And then the travel nightmares began…

1.) When we checked Into Orpheus Rooms in Mykonos, the landlady took my passport to make a photocopy of it for the hotels records. This is a standard procedure. Seth had been holding my passport for the ferry trip and handed the lady my passport when we checked in. The actual owner of the hotel was the son of the lady who took my passport, but he was out of town when we checked in. I was supposed to collect my passport when her son, George, returned the following day. As I mentioned before, we were only in Mykonos for 3 days; we all forgot about my passport and when we checked out George forgot to give it back.

Fast-forward to about 3 hours later. Avery, Seth, and I are en route to Athens when we realize my passport is still at Orpheus Rooms. We all freak out because our ferry gets in at 7:45 pm and we have a flight to Delhi the next day at 2:00 pm. I am basically having a panic attack and insist on speaking with one of the Blue Star Ferries officers. I figured that when the ferry dropped off some of the passengers at the next island, I would get off, take the next ferry back to Mykonos, get my passport, and head back on the next ferry to Athens. I start spitting out my plan at a mile a minute and the Greek officials tell me to slow down. I try again, but no one has any idea what I am saying.

Suddenly, this man comes out of the back office and saves the day. Nicolas suggests that we call George, have him rush the passport over to the Mykonos port, give the passport to the Hellenic Seaways officials on the high-speed ferry to Athens, and meet the Hellenic crew at the Athens seaport at 8:30 pm to collect my passport. Nicolas makes the phone calls to all the appropriate people, and I hold my breath all the way to Athens. At this point my stomach is in knots and I have a stress headache; I keep thinking, Am I an idiot? Who leaves their passport with people in a hotel? Do you really think you can handle the next three months in Asia? I was a mess.

I have to write a thank you letter to Nicolas and Blue Star Ferries, because at 8:30 pm I rushed onto the high-speed ferry and bombarded the nearest man in a uniform. I blurted out a, “HimynameisJessicaFigueroaandIthinkthecaptainhasmypassport. CanIyouhelpmeplease?” As soon as the man heard my name he called over his fellow crew members and a group of 5 men reunited me and my passport (which was locked away in an envelope, in a locked file cabinet, behind a locked gate). Everyone on the ship had heard my story and were almost as happy as I was to see my heinous passport picture. Crisis avoided.

2.) Although my scare was resolved, the curse was not over. We finally get on the subway and are on our way to Hotel Aristoteles. There is a group of four people who seem to be in a bit of a fight, so the three of us move out of their way. As the doors open to our stop, one of the men pushes into me and I snap, “We are all getting out at the stop so you don’t have to push!” I turn around and see that the same man and his 3 accomplices are pushing Avery around. She pushes the away and we continue on to the hotel.

For a brief second we check our backpacks and the zippers to make sure the crazy people didn’t try to take anything, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Then we got to the hotel. Avery goes to get something from her bag and realizes that her wallet is missing. We rip apart her backpack and purse and it is nowhere to be found. Not only were her credit cards and money inside, but her passport, drivers license, and backup copies were all taken. In case you forgot, we were supposed to leave for Delhi the following day; needless to say, we postponed our flight.

Long, long story short, we head to the US Embassy, get Avery a temporary passport, and try to get her an Indian visa. The Indian Consulate isn’t as timely as the US Embassy and tells her that it will take 7 business days to process her request. Furthermore,in order to get to all of the places on our itinerary, Avery needs more than the 5-page temporary passport for all of our visas. She does the math and decides that a week in NYC to sort out all of her visa/passport stuff is more efficient than spending 9 days in Greece(the amount it takes to get an Indian visa, never mind the additional time it would take to get another Vietnam visa). So that’s where Avery is now.

Seth and I rearranged our flights and flew to Delhi the next day. I will pick up in Delhi in my next post.

Island Hopping Part II: Naxos, Santorini (Again), and Mykonos

I think I mentioned it in my last post, but Avery and I were getting restless in Santorini. When we originally planned the trip, we had intentions of working on one of the Greek islands (at a bar or restaurant)…we were thinking something along the lines of saving money and getting a firsthand look at Greek culture. (To be honest, I don’t think Greek culture is that different from American culture, but I’m currently in India and my perspective is drastically different). Anyway, we realized that working in Greece is impossible--due to visa requirements--and we wouldn’t make that much money; so, we ditched the work-in-Greece idea, but stuck to our one-month plan. One month is way too long, but I am sure you all realized that when I first mentioned that leg of the trip.

Okay, so Avery and I decide to cut our time in Santorini down and spend 2 of the nights on the island of Naxos. We picked this island because it’s known for its mountain villages, castle ruins, and tons of Byzantine churches. Fun? Boring? We didn’t know, but thought we’d take the risk. (I was totally on board when I read that the island had a well-known Mexican restaurant. I was getting sick of strictly Greek food). We hopped onto a ferry and within 2 hours were far away from Santorini.

Naxos really wasn’t any different than any of the other islands; it had tons of hotels and hostels, even more outdoor cafes, and a rental car dealer on every corner. On the first night, when we were heading out for Mexican food, Avery and I stopped into one of the rental shops and decided to rent what can only be described as a go-cart for our future mountain adventures. The “car” was a metal cage with an engine and 2 seats. That‘s about it.

The go-cart was impossible to drive. First of all, we were belted into harnesses, making it impossible to shift from drive to park or reverse without unbuckling. The gear stick (I have no idea what that’s really called) was incredibly finicky. When we tried to reverse the car would occasionally rev its engine and stall instead of moving. Finally, the brakes barely worked. We had a close call when we were driving down a hill and started to accelerate. I slammed on the brakes and just barely cleared a rock wall. I don’t think our 5 euro go-cart insurance policy would have covered the damage.

Back to Naxos. Avery and I researched and thought Chalki sounded like the perfect village. Lonely Planet (our travel Bible) described the town as small, historic, and famous for its Kitron*, jams and jellys, and authentic Greek cuisine. When we got to Chalki it was teeny tiny. The main square was roughly 10 feet by 20 feet and was crowded with Yassi’s Tavern’s tables and chairs. Since Yassi’s was the only restaurant in town, we had no other choice but to eat at the Tavern.

Yanni's/Chalki's "Main Square"

After lunch we went into the one gift shop, bought a pack of gum at the news stand, and explored the famous Kitron Distillery--it was a two-room “museum” with a few dusty bottles and a certificate of authenticity. At the end of our self-guided tour, a Kitron expert offered us a taste of Chalki’s finest drink. The bright green liquor was absolutely horrific. It tasted like a sugary lemon drop mixed with rubbing alcohol. I tried to politely smile as I gagged on the Kitron, but I’m almost positive the lady saw the disgust in my eyes.

We were finished exploring the village in an hour and decided to follow the walking tour suggested on one of the maps in town. As Avery and I walked down a lizard-infested path we stumbled across one of the Byzantine churches. I think it was called the Church of Agio Nicolas (which is what 90% of the churches in Naxos are named), but I can’t be too sure.

The Church of Agio Nicolas

It was built in the 12^th century and was very small. After we circled the outside of the building, I got nosy and pried open the closed door. (It’s hours of operation were on Sundays, I believe, but the door swung open with ease). Inside there was a camera crew and a couple of stage lights; some art historians were shooting pictures for an upcoming textbook. They wouldn’t let us take pictures, but we were allowed to snoop around and look at the old frescoes that were painted on the walls and ceilings.

While the stuffy cameramen were distracted, I took a picture of the ceiling.

After we left Chalki we decided to try out another village; our plans changed, however, when we spotted signs for Zas Cave. We drove up narrow roads (with no guardrails) until we reached the middle of a mountain. Dressed in a tube top (Avery), jeans (me), and flip-flops (both of us), we decided to hike the trail up to Zas Cave.
Us in our hiking gear.

From what we could see, the trail was paved and had a slight incline. Easy enough, we thought. 30 minutes later we had hiked a mountain (and I mean hiked) and found the cave. It was small and really dark, but we poked around and then descended the very steep mountainside. We did a little more exploring, but the island seemed dead. I blame the month; mid-September is when tourists stop visiting the islands and head back to work, school, etc.

The ride home from the mountains was easily the worst part of our Naxan adventure. The temperature had dropped significantly and our go-cart didn’t have sides or a windshield. As we made the 2 hour drive home, Avery and I huddled together to stay warm and sang show tunes (and some early 2000 pop hits) to pass the time and ignore the fact that our teeth were chattering and our lips were blue. I think we were delirious at this point.
________________________________________

We got back to Santorini and had one more thing on our to do list: watch the sunset at Oia. According to every guide book and many other travelers, the sunset in the town of Oia is unparalleled. It is the only spot in all of the Greek islands (and all of Santorini) where the sun sets directly into the unobstructed the horizon. We knew that this was a popular activity among the Santorini set, but we weren’t prepared for the shoulder-to-shoulder traffic that blocked off most of the city. Although we elbowed our way into a good spot, we didn’t see the full sunset due to cloud coverage. The crowd didn’t seem to mind the less-than-perfect weather and everyone cheered when the sun finally set behind the clouds.
It was cheesy and touristy (obviously) but one of those things you have to do when in Santorini... I guess.

________________________________________

Jordan left us after Santorini and Seth, Avery, and I went on to Mykonos. Nothing too exciting happened during our three days there, but the island was my absolute favorite place in Greece. The beaches were beautiful, the town (especially the Little Venice quarter) was adorable, and I couldn’t recommend it more highly.

Island Hopping: Part I, Santorini

Most of the hostels in Santorini are expensive, especially from June to September, so we were lucky to find Anny Studios on Perissa Beach. The hostel was reasonably priced and the pictures on its website made the place seem pretty big and clean (important qualities when traveling on a shoestring budget). HostelBookers.com even ranked Anny Studios one of its Top 10 Hostels of 2008. We were sold.

When we got to Anny Studios, our room (which was advertised as a four-person suite with a kitchenette and private bathroom) was more like a cave then a suite. It was dark, damp, and had a curved ceiling; the boys took the two lofted beds, because that’s where the bats lived. To add to our misery, the air-conditioning unit and TV didn’t work and the room smelled like stale sweat. The “kitchenette” was just a mini-fridge and a hotplate and it’s cord didn’t reach any outlets. (One night, when Avery and I tried to cook dinner, we had to put the hotplate on a wooden chair by the outlet nearest the bathroom. Mid-cooking the hotplate sparked, we heard a loud crack, and the power went out in our section of the hostel. Needless to say, we ate out every night). Despite the smoke and mirrors, HostelBookers managed to tell one truth: the hostel was actually 100 feet away from the beach. As a result, we spent many afternoons lounging on Perissa Beach, eating chicken gyros* and working on our tans.

*I overdosed and will never eat a meat-in-a-pita sandwich again. Ever.

Our schedule sounds lovely, and it was, but that's because up until this point we had perfect weather--between 80 and 90 and sunny with a breeze. It made avoiding the beach (even the gross Star Beach) nearly impossible. The hostel manager, Steve, jinxed our good luck when he casually mentioned that it hadn’t rained in 4 months on Santorini. The very next day we experienced a torrential downpour.

To be honest, I was thrilled; the unfortunate weather forced us to explore Fira/Thira (the names are interchangeable) for the day. And by explore, I mean that Avery and I had a delicious lunch, got pedicures, and window-shopped. We were of the mindset that Fira/Thira was posh, so we had to acclimate… despite the fact we hadn’t done laundry in three weeks. To end our girly day, we faked elegance and had a cappuccino and coffee in some fancy hotel.

The next day was sunny and we jumped right back into our routine; after dinner, however, we decided to head back into Fira/Thira to check out the nightlife. Per Steve’s suggestions, we were armed with a Post-it of the city’s best bars and all four of us were dressed to impress (read: stale-smelling and wrinkly outfits that we dug out from the bottom of our backpacks). We were styling.

To get to Fira/Thira you need to take a 30 minute bus. Like most transportation in Greece, the bus system in Santorini is sub par and the bus comes whenever it wants. So we get to the bus stop, conveniently located in front of the outdoor Bob’s Bar, and grab a drink while we are waiting for the bus. (The bar was somewhat of a dive, but it had cheap drinks and played 80’s hits making it an instant favorite). During our wait, I decide to strike up a convo with Bob (I presume he was the owner of the place) and convince him to let me DJ the next night. I spin some elaborate tale of my music knowledge and experience as a DJ and he gives me the job. In terms of a salary, he said he would give me free drinks all night long. I was slated to start the following night, but never showed up for the gig. I figured that being asleep by 11 was a more sound decision then pretending to be DJ Fig at an empty outdoor bar. I think we can all agree on that one.

Somewhere in the middle of our eight nights in Santorini, Avery and I hopped on a ferry to the island of Naxos. I‘ll get to “Part II: Naxos & Santorini, Again” tomorrow, in addition to our harrowing tale of forgotten passports, pickpockets, and how we managed to get stuck in Greece for 5 extra days instead of going to India.

Two Days in Chania

After our little excursion to Anogia, Avery and I were on a “let’s get out of here” kick. We scoured her Lonely Planet guide book with the boys and settled on Golden Beach in Agio Nikolas, about an hour away from where we were staying. It had everything Star Beach in Hersonissos didn’t: white sand, turquoise water, a secluded cove, no signs or flashing lights. I was in heaven. There isn’t much I can say about our afternoon; we just sat by the water and relaxed. It wasn’t until we were on our way to the center of Agio Nicolas that things got interesting.

Golden Beach, Agio Nikolas


Avery was navigating the roads in our neon green Fiat Panda when we heard another car aggressively honking it’s horn. The two cars in front of us suddenly stop and turn off their engines and the driver of the first car jumps out and starts cursing her head off. She runs up to the window of the car behind her (and directly in front of us) and smacks the other driver right across the face. Now, Lady #1 (the smacker) is about 65 years old and has her two baby grandkids in the back seat. Lady #2 (the smacked, 25 year old girl) jumps out and goes after #1 and a full-blown cat fight breaks out in the middle of the road. In a matter of minutes a dress is ripped, hair is pulled, and #1’s glasses are snapped in half. Finally a police man breaks up the scene, but while this was going on a passerby peeks her head into our car window and mutters “Sometimes, this is just the Greek way.” (This is the Greek way? Really? I have a hard time believing her).

Agio Nikolaus Harbor

(I am not really into the transitions on this blog… basically the day after Agio Nikolas we left Hersonissos for good. We drove 3 hours to Chania and that is where I’ll pick up).

As I’ve mentioned before, I came on to this trip with an idealistic picture of Greece. I thought Greece was ancient and charming, but a lot of the buildings and cities we saw were more modern than I expected. When we got to Chania we were pleasantly surprised. The seaside village was absolutely adorable with its cobblestone streets, old buildings, and a lighthouse in it's center. We were staying in an old Turkish guesthouse right in the center of town that was owned by Lena, a middle aged lady whose uniform was strictly mini-skirts and high heels. She wasn’t the friendliest person we met, but she did offer a couple of restaurant suggestions.

The Old Quarter in Chania

On the first night we followed Lena’s lead and ate at Doloma. The restaurant was an actual hole in the wall; we walked past the place a few times before realizing it was tucked behind a seedy looking parking lot. As soon as we sat down, the hostess ushered us into the kitchen where the chef stood proudly in front of his pots and pans. One by one he lifted the lids to show us what was on the menu that night: rabbit stew, a green bean casserole, homemade mousakka, some sort of cod, etc. I settled on the rabbit (when have I ever ordered rabbit??) and it was amazing. Everyone enjoyed their meals, but the wine was gross.

Side note: the chef wasn't too keen on me snapping pictures,and tried to explain this in broken English, but I couldn't help myself. As a result, I got this poor picture of the appetizers.

(I’m going to take a moment to rant about the wine. Rumor has it that Santorini has some of the best wine around and since most of the Greek islands harvest grapes, I figured that the wine on all of the islands would be amazing. Absolutely not. Cretan wine--both red and white--tastes like nail polish remover with a hint of grape juice. It’s undrinkable.)

Seth, Avery, Me, and Jordan in Chania

I spent the few days in Chania wandering through art galleries, window shopping, and ordering Starbucks iced soy chai lattes. Greece isn’t exactly dairy-free friendly, so I gave in and went to Starbucks multiple times a day. I was even tempted to buy a jug of soy milk off of the barista, but figured that request was probably crossing some line.

The public transportation in Crete isn't the world's finest, which caused some problems when we were trying to leave Chania for Santorini. When we asked a travel agent how to get from point A to point B, we were fed something along the lines of, "The ferry system only runs from certain ports on certain days, but not on Wednesdays after 5, and never from Chania to Santorini, and the high-speed boats are 30 Euro more, but only at peak times, and we can book three of you, but not the fourth..." and so on and so forth. Basically, it was confusing and we had to backtrack to Hersonissos at midnight, sleep in the port, and catch an 8AM ferry to Santorini. Unbeknownst to us, the port closes at midnight and reopens at 6AM, forcing us to sleep outside like this:

Avery, on chairs in the outdoor cafe at the port.

The boys took turns guarding our stuff:


Seth and Jordan, being brave

We made it safe and sound onto the ferry and tomorrow I'll try and update with tales from Santorini, Naxos, and Mykonos.