Alignment in Athens
I got my first international trip three days before we left. On my day off, I was annoyed hearing my phone buzz beside my bed, committing to total disconnection from the job when I’m off the clock, or rather, off the plane. I slightly panicked when I saw the brief come through. I jolted up from bed, “Am I working tomorrow and I forgot?!”
No, baby, you’re going to Greece on Saturday. I hadn’t been back to Europe since I moved out of Madrid and found myself on a date in the Madrid-Barajas airport on a Tuesday morning with a cute Mexican boy I had met at the club a couple of nights prior. Before that, crying to my cab driver with 3 large pieces of checked luggage, and him giving me a fatherly speech, he estimated from my crocodile tears that I was crying about a man. Well, yes, this final departure did make any chance at rekindling feel devastatingly final; it was also tears of independence lost. Moving back to Oklahoma with my parents at 26 was never my first choice. Not when I secretly hoped some handsome European prince would save me from myself.
Feelings of excitement, fear, and shock overwhelmed me. As a newly hired private flight attendant, I had only worked a handful of flights on my own. And through all of them, I fumbled through the disbelief that I was capable of managing an 80-million-dollar cabin. Impostor syndrome of the highest caliber.
When it was finally time to get ready for the departure, I was headed to Buffalo, New York, to fly 6 passengers overnight to Athens, Greece. The days leading up to this flight were filled with logistical stress, coordination emails for catering, linens, supplies, etc., for this trip of an undetermined period of time. We had no return date yet, but I had pinned plenty of restaurants and island escapes, just in case I was able to enjoy a proper Greek vacation.
As I was preparing myself, resting my physical body in my hotel room in Buffalo, while my emotional body quivered with anxiety, I got a text from a dear friend of mine.
Gavin: “In DC before my flight to Athens.”
In serendipitous alignment, I was also coincidentally headed to Athens. In utter disbelief of our hilarious timing, we made plans to meet upon landing, which for both of us was at 10 am. He was there for a family wedding, having some solo time before the rest of the group arrived.
My jitters calmed, and the pressure eased when I looked forward to having a cocktail with my friend in Athens. Never mind how the flight went, I would have a reward at the end of the rainbow.
Of course, the imagined scarcities of the flight were worse in my head than in actuality. I made up all the beds just fine, there were no catastrophic service mishaps, my passengers were kind and patient, and we landed safely.
We stayed at the Sofitel Athens, a gorgeous 5-star hotel. The only downside is that it is quite literally across the street from the departures terminal.
Gavin met me after he got through customs and came for a shower and nap since his hostel wasn't ready until later that afternoon. I was delirious from lack of sleep at this point, and we had been texting throughout the flight, so he felt more like a vision than a real person. A hot shower and a two-hour nap later, we were sleepily getting ready to explore ancient Athens, betting on caffeine and a cocktail to get us through the day. Anticipation and the sudden countdown of returning to work in 26 hours forced me out of bed.
We took a taxi into the city center, a 45-minute drive. Our cab driver exhibited excellent English and Greek hospitality, sharing candy with us and telling us about the historic buildings we drove by. “There is the first ever library, there is where they used to worship Apollo and Aphrodite.”
He dropped us off, and Gavin checked in and dropped his bags off. We walked past buildings covered in graffiti, some parts of the city run down. ` We needed a snack, drink, and view right away, so I found Attic Rooftop. Fixed, perfected perpendicular to the Acropolis, we had a magnificent view.
The air was warm and dry, and the June sun didn’t beat down, just softly blazed with the breeze. The Acropolis sits atop the city, overlooking miles of rooftops and plazas and hilly desertous terrain. The colorful orange and red and white and yellow blobs of buildings reflect back on the hillside between bursts of greenery.
The main attraction of the restaurant is a wooden set of swings with yellow crown daisies framing the wooden fixture as a makeshift picture frame with the ancient sites in the background.
We ordered Ouzo, an iconic Greek liquor with notes of licorice. This was powerful and potent, as our cab driver had warned us. He said it’s best with fish, so we ordered the catch of the day, seabass over fava beans. The white flaky fish drizzled in olive oil and sauced in the savory blended bean dip was just what we needed to revitalize ourselves.
After taking pictures in the swing and finishing our beverages, we decided to wander to the Plaka neighborhood. Famously known as the “neighborhood of the gods,” we wandered through neoclassical architecture similar to what you would find on a Greek island. Cascading magenta wisteria covers stark white walls and blue framing, giving that typical Grecian vibe.
We pet some of the many stray cats wandering around the city and stopped at another terrace to people-watch and catch up. Here we also planned where to go for dinner, as the sunset was quickly approaching, and we wanted to watch it somewhere good. Online, I found a nice rooftop. I called and made a reservation and thought nothing of it when the hostess asked if I was familiar with their menu. “Sure, yeah, I love Greek food,” I thought to myself and quickly dismissed her.
Before dinner, we stopped at a local bakery to try the famous Freddo espresso and baklava. The espresso was frothy and cold, an iced beverage smooth and perfect for the summer heat. The baklava was flaky and syrupy sweet, almost sickeningly in the best way.
We arrived at our reservation at a boutique hotel and took the elevator to the roof. We could tell it was a bit bougie, but we didn’t think much of it. Once at the top, we were shown to our table in the dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the picturesque sunset view as a backdrop to the ancient ruins among us. We sat down at a white tablecloth and more silverware than I knew what to do with. Gavin quickly removed his backpack, and I sat up a little straighter as we were poured water and given the menu by men who made me understand the term “Greek God.”
Opening the menu, I realized my vital mistake. She was asking me about the menu over the phone, because it was an ELEVEN-COURSE TASTING MENU. ONLY. This was a problem. My stomach was hoping for something lighter, like a Greek salad and a bill that wasn’t 200 euros per person. We politely excused ourselves and cursed as we took our last glances at the most beautiful men in the city.
We heaved over from laughter on our way down the elevator because this wasn’t even the first time Gavin and I had found ourselves in a similar predicament. Last time we saw each other, also by happenstance in Columbus, Ohio, (when I was training for this job), we found ourselves at 4 different restaurants in one afternoon, like Goldilocks. “Too hot, too cold, lost power, and no Diet Coke?”
We immediately sat ourselves at the first cute, normal-looking terrace with open seats and a chill vibe. I really just wanted a Greek salad and a Gyro. We ordered just that to share, since our appetites were being overcome with exhaustion. That paired with one last Ouzo drink, mine a “Greek Mojito” with the liquor and Gavin’s drink of choice, over ice. He’s been drinking Ouzo long before his journey to Greece, stealing it from his parents' bar in high school.
It was here that I decided I had seen some gorgeous men all day and felt emboldened enough to act on my desires. One of the workers, the host, acts as a pretty face on the street, enticing guests to dine. He had come over to our table, where I lost all my charm and blurted out, “You’re so handsome.” It must not have come off as smooth as I imagined in my desperate attempt to ensure people understood Gavin and me were not a couple on a romantic getaway.
He turned on his heels immediately and avoided eye contact for the rest of the evening. We laughed about this quietly to ourselves as I realized I seemed to have lost my flirting abilities. I used to be so smooth. A year of single and self-love has shown me I have some things to work on as I reengage my romantic life.
I still cringe when I think back on this, a humbling moment for my ego. I had only 8 hours remaining anyway, and I needed to get some sleep. After dinner, we wandered around the old hills under the full moonlight, finding an open church with altar candles. There I dropped in a few euros and made a secret wish I can’t tell you about, but one that has something to do with my aforementioned love life.
I took an Uber through those narrow old town streets of Athens, dodging cats and mobs of tourists and other small cars with no parking laws, back to my hotel after dropping off one of my best friends. Even if I only had 26 hours, I’m still grateful to have had those special hours in a predicament so perfect I couldn't have planned it myself.
