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Thursday morning we work up early, packed up all of
bags, and walked outside into winds of near-hurricane proportions.
We had heard that Crete could get windy in the late
fall, but this was beyond anything we'd imagined. We packed up
the car and headed to the airport wondering if we'd be able to
even take off (you hoser, eh?). Sorry, that one was for all the
Canadian readers out there.
We bid our lovely condo a fond farewell and piled into our sweet,
lil' rental one last time.
Bye-bye turquoise water *sniffle*
Check it out: both Grant and Fatty are "handling their luggage."
Once in the airport, we grabbed a quick slice...
...and boarded our Athens-bound plane. By the way, as we were
walking across the tarmac and I was taking out my camera to take
this pic - Here's Grant's one-sided conversation to me: "Dude,
what are you doing? Don't take a picture. Dude, seriously. Put
your
camera
away.
They're
going
to think you're a terrorist, dude.
Think
about
it, who takes pictures of planes
up close like this? Terrorists, that's who! You think I'm kidding?
I'm not. Hey, stop laughing. What? What? Stop it. STOP LAUGHING.
Seriously. Stop, dude. Stop. STOP! Oh, you little bitch. That's
fine just keep on taking pictures and laughing. We'll see who
laughing when you're arrested for being a SUSPECTED TERRORIST."
(Stomps
off in a huff). Heheh.
Despite all of my SUSPICIOUS CAMERA ACTIVITY I somehow managed
to make it aboard the plane. Wait, where's the Fatty?
Oh, conked the fuck already. That's where.
(Update: Ok, in Grant's
defense I have to post something from an email he just sent clarifying
why he was worried about the whole plane thing. Turns out he
wasn't worried that I'd be mistaken for a a terrorist,
he was worried that they were going to think I was
a spy. In
his email he included a link to story on the
BBC
news website about 14 "planespotters," people that
take pictures of airplanes as a hobby, that were
just convicted
of "espionage" after being arrested for taking pictures
of Greek military planes during an airshow there. Ka-ka-kuh-razy!
Good
looking out, Grizza. Sorry.)
After landing in Athens, we had a few hours to kill at the airport
before our flight to Heathrow. When we got hungry an hour or
two in, we couldn't find restaurants that looked good and in
the end decided to go to McDonalds.
At first
we were bummed - we're in a foreign country and we're forced
to eat something patently American. But then we took a closer
look at the menu and discovered...
The GREEK MAC! That's right. Two lamb patties in a pita with
lettuce, tomato and tahini. After the initial surprise of the
Greek Mac wore off...
...Chris managed to regain his composure and display his Greek
Mac like a true Greek MACK. Awwww, yeah.
Ooooooooh!
The Grizza takes a skeptical bite...
The verdict? It gets an enthusiastic, lambtastic thumbs up.
Mmmmm.
The Greek authenticity of McDonald's inspired
us to check out the airport's small museum of Greek art.
Holy shit. Does this photo even need a caption? Hahahaha.
Here's the not-so-great sneaky photo I tried to take of Grant freaking
the fuck out when he thought he'd lost his plane ticket (which Chris
had
actually taken
out of his bag and hidden while Grant was in the bathroom).
After a few England-bound hours in the air, it was time for ANOTHER
MEAL! Wooooo! Who loves airline food more than us?
NO ONE! That's who.
After a long-ass day of traveling and layovers, we landed in Heathrow
a little past 11pm local time.
Grant hopped on the "red phone" and ordered us up a car.
We claimed our bags and prepared to head to (DRUMROLL)....
...ESSEX! That's right! We were heading out to Grant's parent's house
in Essex to hang with his family and so he could show us
around Corringham, the town he spend his formative years in.
After a 90-minute, white-knuckled drive in the rain (on the wrong side
of the road)...
...we arrived safely and without incident (save a slight yelling match
between Grant and the rest of the passengers in the car who politely
asked him if he would "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN SO DON'T HYDROPLANE
OFF THE ROAD AND DIE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!") at
Grant's parent's home and celebrated with some stiff drinks...
...and authentic English snacks! An assortment of cured meats and
English crumpets (which are basically taste like if you took a Thomas'
English Muffin and cubed its deliciousness).
Here's Fatty's "meat from three different animals with cheese" sandwich.
He's going to put this pic up on JDate to subtly communicate to the
ladies that he doesn't
keep
kosher.
Bad
Jew!
Baaaad!
Remember all the way back in the beginning of the trip when Chris,
Fatty and I were in Iceland and we had
the "Guess
what
time
the sun
will
rise" contest where the winner would get to sleep in Gemma's bed? Well,
I won. None of us could figure out why Grant didn't freak out when
we told him about what we'd said the prize was....until we discovered
that Gemma had gone to Brazil with her boyfriend and wasn't even around!
Here's me enjoying my winner's prize. (And to add insult to injury,
Gemma's since gotten herself engaged. Boooo! Er, I mean congrats, Gemma!).
We turned out the lights and tried to get some sleep in preparation
for next day's whirlwind tour of the town and evening of Essex nightlife!
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