Let's Go, Jane!

It’s an odd feeling, watching my home country grind to a halt while I’m on an extended travel timeline. Back in New York, when I would read about the takeover and potential collapse of our beloved democracy, it felt unimaginable. But as I travel through Europe, where there are constant reminders of governments and empires that have risen and fallen, I’m struck by how very young our country is. 

Nowhere did that perspective hit home more than sitting on top of the Acropolis in Athens, Greece, surrounded by columns that have stood for more than 1,500 years. The American experiment, by contrast, is less than 250 years old. “A republic, if you can keep it,” quipped Benjamin Franklin. Indeed.

My week in Greece was wonderful. The food was delicious, and the portions enormous. The first time I went out for dinner I ordered an appetizer and an entree and it was enough food for two people. The next time I ordered two appetizers. Without a guest fridge in the hostel I had no way to keep leftovers, so by the end of my visit I was ordering just a single appetizer at each meal. It’s a challenge, as a solo traveler, not being able to enjoy a variety of dishes in one sitting.

Athens is delightful. The population of the metropolitan area is just over 3 million people, nearly a third of the population of Greece. The streets are narrow and cobblestoned, with ancient rubble everywhere you turn. A broken marble column, a Byzantine church. Street cats are everywhere, with signs of care. I tasted the most delicious lemonade I’ve ever had from a street vendor in the old city. And in every shop window, colorful phallic keychains promise fertility and good fortune.

The first night I went out for dinner, I asked the waitress if it would be safe to walk back to the hostel by myself. It was around 8 pm and a ten minute walk. Her answer amused me. She didn’t say “yes, it’s perfectly safe.” She said basically “You might see some sh*t, but no one will bother you.” I realized after arriving back at the hostel that part of what made it difficult for me to gauge how safe it was is the graffiti that covers every surface. Back in New York, if you see an urban area with a lot of graffiti it usually indicates vandalism or economic blight. Athens, however, is the self-proclaimed street art capital of Europe.

After three days wandering the city, including my usual free walking tour, I decided to spend my last full day on a day trip to the island of Hydra. The ferry ride was about an hour and a half (actually, I had tried to go the day before but all the ferries were cancelled because of a worker strike at the docks). Hydra is picturesque, like a postcard. There are no cars allowed on the island, nor bicycles. Loads are carried by horse or mule or hand cart. 

I found the island so botanically interesting. There were huge agave plants with their towering dried flower stems and many plants that looked like they’d gone dormant for the season. I spotted a few wild cyclamen tucked into the rocks. I wandered and ate and wandered some more, until it was time for the return ferry. The seas were rough on the way back, so we were treated to an amazing sunset while passengers vomited into sickbags provided by the crew. It was a lesson in contrast.

After my time in Athens, I headed to Thessaloniki, Greece (the second largest city in Greece and I have yet to meet anyone who has heard of it!). It was a brief stop, motivated primarily by a desire to visit my son, who is completing a college semester there. We had a quick souvlaki lunch the first day, a trip to a guitar store and dinner the second day. He invited me to eat dinner at the hotel where he’s living and meet his classmates. It was very sweet, and wonderful to see him thriving. 

I did very little sightseeing in Thessaloniki and enjoyed some much needed rest in my Airbnb, catching up on laundry and old episodes of Survivor. At the end of my first month of travel, I gave myself permission to regroup. With Greece behind me and Türkiye and the Balkans ahead, I’m settling into the rhythm of this new life—one that holds both adventure and rest, discovery and pause.