6/3: Day Eight, Athens to Cairo

We got to sleep in today, because everyone was either leaving for another trip or going home. (The sleeping thing was probably a good thing, because otherwise, I foresaw three very hungover friends.) We spent the day hanging out in the Plaka with Shayne (Mario ended up leaving early to go to Rome, so we went out with him for a bit and then saw him off... I was sad, because Mario is cool, and I wanted him to go to Egypt with us.) and then we ate a quick dinner, because we were all worried a bit about Cairo.

Andrea and Alison relive the night before, by standing in the corner where the 3 Greek guys chatted them up.


Shayne, Caroline, and Mario relive the night before, by standing on the scooter they almost stole in a drunken moment of inspiration.


Hanging out in the pool bar of the Royal Olympic. Of course, this was the closest we got to this pool the whole trip...


Caroline and Sabrina.


Tracey (aka Sisssssssy!) and Alison.


The King and Queen of Greece (taken by the High Priestess).


Bye Greece! (sniff)
(Note the blinding yellow of the Athens airport coloring the background. And don't ask why I am wearing a hat, inside, at night.)

I pretty much conked out once we got on the plane, and when we arrived at the airport, I experienced EXTREME culture shock. We went to use the restroom, and found a women lying on the floor, holding the TP she had stolen from the stalls. (More on this later.) Yikes! Lucky I had Kleenex on me.

As we walked with the guy who was to meet us towards the bus, he lost half the group, because he wasn't paying attention to the fact that one of us got held up in customs (Andy) and instead decided to just go ahead. So, I took control and rounded up the troops, and the I saw David jumping up and down a couple blocks away from us. I was SO pissed at the guy for losing us -- it was well past 1am at this point -- that I yelled at him when we caught up to him for the complete idiocy involved in leaving half the group in the airport. Argh.

Got to hotel at 3, Liza (not the kissy-face one, but one from South Africa) thought she was supposed to be in our room but wasn't (oops, dyslexia), and we went to sleep. At 4.