Travel Logs: Zaharoula Goes To Greece


Some people say taking a trip on a train is an adventure, buth have you ever ridden a bus in Athens?

Check out my latest misadventure in FOAM Magazine!


Here I am- 23 years old, wedged between the immortality of childhood and teetering on the borders of being an adult. Who would have thought I would have even made it this far with the whole world right at my fingertips, yet I find myself close to a mini-quarter life crisis. Fresh out of college, consumed with everything and nothing all at the same time, it’s like I was standing at the precipice of success and failure.

“Oh there goes Zaharoula again, she’s off traveling, can’t remember where. Where is she working? How my much money is she making? When will she learn? I wonder when she’ll meet a nice guy and settle down?”

God, shoot me now.

All my friends from college were moving forward and doing “what’s expected,” working full-time jobs, getting engaged, hosting bridal showers, settling down and posting the 324th picture of their new baby doing God knows what. And what was I doing with my life? Living out of a backpack, literally waiting for whatever the hell my next move is supposed to be.

And apparently Greece was my next move.

Greece has given the world philosophy, religion, democracy, literacy, the alphabet, beautiful oceans, the bluest skies and the most wonderful people- but now with the crumbling economy and lack of, well, lack of everything, this country seems to only be known for yogurt and John Stamos.

After landing in Athens, I dashed to my connecting flight that would take me to my grandfather’s Island, Ikaria. The blue zone they call it; a place where worries fade and where people live forever. However, I was not informed that my ass was in fact larger than this aircraft, and that I would be sharing this airplane with a child who would go on to shit his pants 5 minutes after takeoff.

I could tell that this trip would be a great catalyst for some deep thinking.

During my time here I have hiked holy grounds, swam in the depths of the most clean and clear water, I’ve caught my own dinners, danced for hours and frankly the amount of wine I have drank makes me wish I was a Mormon- but I have learned lessons, that will never be acquired in any classroom, any lecture or any stupid self help book.

Yea, life may be this proverbial road map, and even though most of those road signs point to death, you have to take the plunge.

This is our time. We need to start enjoying this beautiful life we’ve been given. We need to enjoy having too much fun. Too much love. Too much work. Too much time. Too much insecurity. Too much doubt, hell enjoy having too much of not enough. Realize that a painful destruction can lead to the makings of something beautiful. So stay out until 6:30 when you have work at 8, take one shot too many, say I love you just one more time, and push for more even when you know it’s too much.

The best things in life, aren’t things- they’re memories, and people, and kids that shit their pants in small airplanes. Take these times to remember how blessed you are that you get to open your eyes for one more day, and trust that your choices at this very moment will be good ones.

Life may not be fair, but it’s still good.


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