Reunited and it feels so good.

It’s my second trip back to Madrid since moving out- this time after a quick jaunt through Italy and a return trip to Crete. The mini-trip was absolutely amazing. Everyday was something completely different. Each city evoked a different version of Megan to explore it. After saying goodbye to the kids, I set out to be a solo traveler again. Here’s the quick and dirty version of it all:

Rome: After my flight got into the airport late and I missed the cheap hostel shuttle, I had the pleasure of taking an expensive taxi to Camping Roma- a campground/hostel complex with a huge bar, restaurant, and pool. The hostel rooms were in trailers, but I decided to rough it and sleep in one of the permanent tents they had set out. The weather was great, so I had a fine time. Met some people there who were traveling together for a weekend from the states studying in Spain. One had a daughter my age and so they took me under their wing. Actually, it was more the other way around as I had an idea of what I wanted to see in my one day in Rome. Which is how I came to spend my day zooming in and out of cars along with the other scooters in Rome. I haggled with the scooter rental guy and got us a discount “solo para ti” as he liked to say. I buzzed past everything I wanted to see in Rome and even got off the scooter to take in the Pantheon. What good architecture 170 student wouldn’t?

Venice: Caught my early morning flight to Venice where Kate and Federika picked me up and drove me to F’s house. Her mom did my laundry while I pounded a few cups of coffee her dad had made while explaining Italian coffee’s superiority. Properly caffeinated, Kate F and I headed into Venice for the day. I took a 50-cent gondola ride, sighed in front of the bridge, bought some glass from Muranno, drank spritz, and chased pigeons in St. Marks Square. Then we returned to F’s house and ate the tastiest home-cooked meal I’d ever had.

At least until the next day when I had another amazing home-cooked meal.

Milan: Kate had to fly out of Milan to get back to the states via Madrid, so we took the train out a day early and stayed a night at the HI there. Milan is a boring city- ugly and expensive. SO expensive, in fact, that I treated Kate to a meal at Mc Donald’s as it was all I could afford. The next morning we enjoyed our 15 minutes in front of Da Vinci’s Last Supper before hitting the airport. I boarded my plane for Greece after Canadian Jason (who the kids and I met in Barcelona) got off it. And so ended my city portion of my trip as I slid into my sandals, awaiting the sandy beaches of Crete.

Plakias: Possibly one of my favorite places in the world. I arrived at night again and settled into an empty bunk at the hostel. The next morning I met the new cast of characters to inhabit the hostel. That morning I felt as though I had accidentally dropped into Real World: Plakias. A bunch of beautiful 20-somethings discussing the drama that had been going down. One girl had just gone to the airport with (I think) her boyfriend because his best friend had just died. I kept waiting for the people who I’d met there before to stroll up to the hostel, but it never happened. So I slipped into my bathing suit, shorts, and sandals and joined the group setting off on the river walk. We waded through the river, climbing up waterfalls, slipping on rock, crossing through fields of thistles, until we reached the top of the hillside and enjoyed a wide view of our little corner of the island.

The next morning, disheveled from a night of raki, mythos, and black wine, I climbed in a car with 3 people from the hostel and set off for the Samira Gorge, the largest gorge in all of Europe and a stunning landscape to behold. Knowing we couldn’t make it out here in a day, we stopped off in a tiny cove, pitched a tent, made a fire, and fell asleep to the sound of the waves. In the morning, we lost one of the group to the call of the city. She boarded a bus headed towards civilization as we boarded a boat for the gorge.

That night, we squeezed all three of us into the one person tent after a dinner of nutella and bread. I woke up to the sun peeking out over the hillside, took a quick swim in the sea and was so content that I was not able to imagine being anywhere else or doing anything else.

It crushed us to know that we had to return to the hostel. Danny had to head home to Canada. Dale off to travel more. And me to stay a few more days in Plakias. It was horrible to see them go after finding my niche with them.

I spent the last of my days in Plakias reading, making friends with a 4-year-old child of a hippie from Spain, swimming, and laying on the beach. Such a hard life. I left Plakias, as everyone else does, ast eh very last second possible. My hair still wet from the sea, bags bursting from a quick packing job, and feet sandy.

Madrid: And so I finally made it back home to Madrid. It really does feel like home. Last night I said goodbye to the only other American still haunting Madrid. I leave soon, but I know I’ll come back. I’m trying my hardest to not get sentimental about it, but just thinking about leaving here now makes me a bit vechlemped. I’ve said goodbye so many times to this place, I don’t think I can do it again.

In three days I see my parents and brother who I won’t have seen in exactly 5 months.


Ok, so that was a whole lot longer than I had thought it was going to be. And I left out so much. Eeek.