I mentioned in the last post that after two nights in Athens our Europe trip was finally at an end. We had started with a canceled flight to Barcelona, Spain that we were lucky to rebook and through it all we had made it to the end.
Our flight was scheduled to depart from Athens at 12:45 PM with a connection in Munich, Germany on Lufthansa. From Munich we’d have an hour and a half to make the connection to a United flight back to Denver.
We packed up and went out as a family to get coffee and pastries. We were finally getting an understanding of how to order coffee in Greece that was more to our taste. We’re accustomed to lattes back home and realized that in Greece and Italy you had to order coffee with sugar and milk. A decent coffee with a good pastry made the impending long flights that much easier.
The Prison of Socrates
With an hour to burn I made one last walk to Philopappos Hill. A quick saunter up the shaded, forest trails seemed just what I needed. And this time I found what I missed the last time: The Prison of Socrates.
In a cliff face a short distance up one of the trails were three small caves with metal bars blocking their entrance. Now, whether these caves ever contained the imprisoned philosopher Socrates is not known for certain, but the ‘cells’ date to the 5th century BC. If there were no other jails in the region of Athens to house Socrates, it’s certainly possible.
Having discovered this last historic site, at the last possible moment, I walked quickly back to the hotel room. I had made a reservation with Welcome Pickups in advance and messaged the driver. He responded that he was on his way. Sure enough he arrived right on time, and had driven onto the ‘pedestrian area’ to meet us. We quickly loaded our luggage into the van and were off to the airport.
The driver was full of good information that might have benefitted us earlier, like to use the metro and not to take taxis. Oh well, we might be back some day. We also discussed Greek politics and the graffiti. Useless politicians and bored teenagers are a problem everywhere.
Once we arrived at the airport we checked our suitcases and got through security without a hitch. We’d be home in twelve long hours. Arriving the same day we departed after the time zone change.
We boarded the Lufthansa flight and then we heard the news. We were going to be delayed 50 minutes. There were thunderstorms in Germany and flights were delayed to and from Munich.
Our connection was going to be tight. We’d have only about 30 minutes to clear passport control and make it to the next gate.
Arrival in Munich
We landed in Munich and there was another short delay just connecting the bridge to the plane. After five more agonizing minutes we were able to deplane and started the jog through the airport to passport control and the connecting gate.
We got to the passport control and watched the minutes tick by. By the time we finally got our passports stamped, we had about 25 minutes left. Just enough time.
We ran toward the United gate. And then we were stopped. The gates were closed. The flight was still there but we could not board. This United flight was also delayed, but still we could not board.
We turned around in aggravation. I mean, we knew this was the likely outcome the moment the 50 minute delay was announced at the Athens airport, but still it was confounding.
We walked back to the Lufthansa customer service desks and after about 30 minutes of rebooking we were set on an Air France flight departing the next day, with a connection in Paris. They booked us into a hotel near the airport.
I guess we’re going to get a night in Munich. Do we have time to take the train to the city?
We were hungry and tired. We called and let our family know we’d not be in until the following day. Then we got some much needed beer and brats and pretzels at the airport.
After eating we went to gather our luggage and go through passport control to leave the airport. Passport control again? The girl working there was really nice, at least.
Once outside we waited 30 minutes curbside for a shuttle to the hotel that pulled into the wrong spot. We had been literally the first people to arrive there waiting and yes, we pushed our way onboard. The driver barked at us and we barked back that we were there first, before all the others that pushed past us to get on board. We were tired of getting pushed aside and people not waiting their turn.
We rode to the hotel and found that Lufthansa put us in a cheap hotel in a nearby town called Schwaig that didn’t even have air-conditioned rooms. We opened the window to let whatever breeze was there to come in. At least the bathroom was decently sized.
Sigh. Well, they were giving us free dinner too.
We went to the dining area to find that the hotel was serving cheap, canned food to the travelers that Lufthansa had put up in the hotel for the night. Ok, enough of this. There are restaurants in walking distance. We’re getting real German food and enjoying some German beer.
We walked outside and the town of Schwaig is really quite pretty and quaint. A typical Bavarian town. Surely we could find a beer garden here.
And we did. We sat outside in a pleasant beer garden with massive trees shading us overhead. It reminded me of when I was young and lived in the rural Midwest. Quiet, relaxed, just the way we wanted it. We could hear church bells tolling every half hour. From somewhere nearby.
Except for the mosquitoes it seemed ideal. I could tolerate them if the beers were delicious. And they were.
But for food we’d have to walk back to the other restaurant a short distance away.
We finished our beers and then walked back to what we thought would be another German restaurant. Instead it was an Italian restaurant.
But we wanted German food. We already went to Italy and ate Italian food there. Oh well, the waitress was German. And the pizza was pretty good.
After walking back to the cheap hotel with the stuffy room, we crashed for the night, while mosquitoes flew in the open window to bite us in our sleep. Sigh. It was like camping in a hotel.
Schwaig, Germany
The next morning we had a little time before our shuttle back to the airport. I decided I wanted to explore Schwaig a little. Just to see a little more of the Bavarian town before we departed.
I walked a mile or so around the town near the hotel. I found the church tower from which the bells could be heard the prior day. I found a pretty neat town sign of stacked houses and toy characters of various kinds that somewhat told the story of Schwaig. And lots of doves too.
When it was time to go I went back to the hotel room, glad to be leaving it and its stuffiness. Lufthansa, you cheap bastards.
Once back at the airport we checked into Air France. We checked everything in. No more carry-ons this time.
The Paris Connection
We had another tight connection window in Paris. If we were delayed at all, we’d be spending another night in another country. At least we were getting the Grand Tour of Europe.
Once we arrived we had another long, slow passport control line. We were going to be late. We were going to be sleeping the night in Paris. Without time to actually see Paris. Sigh.
For once though, we had a stroke of luck. The Air France flight to Denver was also delayed and we had arrived in time for our flight because of the delay. After a spastic run to the gate we could finally relax. We were going home.
Eight hours later we arrived back in Denver. The crazy journey was at an end.
Final Thoughts
I have never returned from a family vacation (if that is what it was) after enduring so many emotional highs and lows. The trip was exhausting and terrific. It was mentally taxing and cause for celebration. It wore us down and gave us feelings of elation and great satisfaction.
I’m proud that we hung in there and overcame all of the ridiculous mishaps. I am also proud of everything we saw and did. I am proud that all of my planning had worked out for us on so many occasions.
We have the pictures to prove we saw and did everything we could, no matter how many stupid things happened. And we were smiling through it al….well, at least most of it.
So what does it all mean to us? That we’re far from done traveling the world. And we’ll never stop looking for adventures. That’s who we are.