I was so busy the day before the trip that I didn’t even have time for a sleepless night, or excitement about the journey. The morning began with a news about the flight being delayed for an hour. So, with scheduled 45-50 minutes of transfer time, we had very good chances of not making it to our connecting flight, which might have meant not even getting to Santorini on the day we were supposed to arrive. How many flights there are from Frankfurt to Santorini in a week? I didn’t want to think about it, as there was nothing I could do to change it.
Off I go, with my son driving me to the airport. I talk about watering the flowers, about the food in the fridge, about the bed sheets and washed laundry… He nods or responds with “yes, yes”, but I know he is not listening. I just hope my African violets will survive. The rest of my plants are more resilient and they will wait for me. It is still a nice feeling, that sense of pride, when your grown-up kids are doing what you have done thousands times before, helping them get to their destinations, driving them where they needed to go…
Bonnie is already at the airport and simply being together kills those 3 hours of waiting. I feel better now than how i felt last summer, when I took the first flight to Europe after the pandemic. More than nine hours on the plane was excruciatingly long after being at home for two years, or going for lengthy walks alone, around the neighbourhoods. Movie after movie, some chats, but no sleep. The pilot has made up for the delayed start but 30 min on Frankfurt airport is not enough.
We are running across the terminal. That gate A17 is so far away, this hallway, then that hallway, then turn left, take the escalators, then another set of escalators, then…. We can’t believe we made it. We crash in our seats on the plane to Thira, Santorini. I worry about the suitcases as there was very little time for their transfer from one aircraft to another, but you never know. We hope for the best.
The hope was in vain. As we watch the conveyor belt spit all types of luggage that is not ours, and notice less and less people around us, the belt stopped revolving. The report of the lost luggage, the taxi, stop at the market, drive to our Air BnB place, and we are finally there. It is never exactly as it is on the photos or what you imagined it would be. However, the host has put a nice plate with cheese, bread, olives and tomatoes on the table with two glasses of wine for our welcome – and that makes the arrival to the destination very special, despite of rain that started drizzling.
Not a lot of decisions that evening. How many hours of not sleeping? Packing an extra change of clothes and pajamas in my carry-on came handy, with our suitcases, probably still sitting quietly somewhere in Germany. Hot water in the shower never came for me, but I am too tired to worry about that, so a quick splash to rinse the feel of the journey and hop into the bed.