We crashed at an astonishingly early 7 PM after landing from our 27 days in Greece. I was awoken by a loud clanging circadian clock swearing to me that it was 10 am and I needed to get out of bed. I reasoned with myself that if that were the case light would be peeking through my delicately closed eyelids. I said 'Self, if you open your eye to peek, just to peek at the time you won't be able to fall back asleep.' and my self replied 'IT'S 10AM!! GETUP!GETUP!GETUP!'
And you know what? It WAS 10 AM.
In Greece.
In New Jersey, it was 3. And I am pretty sure nobody wants to start their day at 3, and if you disagree lets just poll Kelcey, who I am pretty sure has more experience with 3 am starts right now. But I don't have adorable newborn twins so 3 isn't even remotely pleasurable.
At 3, I laid in bed pondering this blog. And I came up with a few things.
For starters, I left you off with my packing brilliance. For the umpteenth trip, my press n'seal did me wonders and my jewelry wasn't tangled. So, what better follow up than to give you more traveling brilliance. In lieu of a souvenir for myself, I kept my money at home and left it in the form of a check. You know that anxiety that comes from travel, when you get home and you realize the phone calls to make, the packages of shoes to return and the laundry to be done? I came home to chores, but I didn't come home to a dirty house OR laundry. That check I left behind was for a housekeeper, and my laundry was lovingly washed and hung to dry just before we left so I landed with exactly one load to do.
For seconders, I am contemplating a blog over haul. And I don't just mean a new look. I mean, get a chair fellow bloggers, I am going to delete everything here. The URL, the 4 years worth of post, the name and the twitter. There is nothing in this life that is so important to me that I can't do without, with exception of nail polish collection family, of course. Though shallow, I am practical to a fault with 'things'. The storage bins from when my kids were infants, is direly small. I saved no toys. The minute V was on two feet, I sold all the cribs/bassinets/high chairs. I trash everything and save very little. I feel the same way about my internet life, though not about my dear reader friends. You I can' live without.
Everything in that previous paragraph was brought on because when I swung my exhausted 17 hour travel day into my freshly made bed, all I wanted was to catch up on The Real Housewives of New Jersey. And you know what? My muthereffing DVR found True Blood so important that it archived 3 months of episodes and didn't record anything on Bravo.
I wanted to kill.
Now, because all anyone really wants are pictures, I will oblige. Otherwise I know nobody reads blogs on Saturdays.
If there was a way to tell you about the most amazingly posh resort I coudn't have even dreamed up in my wildest, without sounding like a giant bougie spoiled asshole, I would. This was our patio. Oh and our private infinity pool. On the golf course. Overlooking the Mediterranean.
On the drive from Trizina, the village we stay in, to Athens.
Another car window shot on our way to Athens.
Athens graffiti near the Acropolis.
Athens sun setting from the apartment we were staying in.
Voidokilia Beach, one of the most beautiful beaches in Greece. (pronounced VO da Kee la)
Hydra, the island where no motorized vehicles are allowed. All travel in on foot or by donkey. A hint from the color wheel, unless you are photographing in black and white only, wear purples and red at the beach, these are the most complimentary against blues and greens.
Poros Island, where we spend the majority of our time.
If there was a contest for whose Yiayia (grandmother) had the cutest house, clearly their's would win. And? The kids never leave a daily visit without something in their hands, we have enough chocolate croissants to last us a lifetime.
The greek beverage staple; The Frappe. It's where Starbucks learned their brilliance. It is just as dreamy as it looks.
