Sometime last August, Kelly, Mandi and I were in the car on our way out for the night. The topic of dream vacations came up and we agreed on Greece and Australia as the ultimate destinations. We convinced ourselves we’d make it to one of those places by the end of the year but we talk big when we’re drinking, so at the time it seemed like another conversation we’d forget about in the morning. I had no idea 10 months later Kelly and I would be in Greece with a bunch of Australians...
It's barely past 5 a.m. when we set out for the Fort Lauderdale airport. Running on 4 hours of sleep, I'm too tired to grasp I will soon be in Greece. My suitcase only weighs 36 pounds, which is shocking considering I overpacked. I kept the weight down by packing some of my heavier things and some toiletries in my carry on. Basically I packed enough in my carry on to last me a few days in the event we lost our luggage. Our flight leaves promptly at 7:35 a.m. I make sure to stay awake in hopes of being as tired as possible for the 10-hour flight to Athens.
During the flight I start to worry I've set my expectations too high. I did so much research that I'm afraid there will be no surprises for me. Kelly and I discuss the possibility that our tourmates will be boring, hate Americans, find us annoying, or all of the above. What if I've spent all of this money and time only to have a mediocre trip?
Our plane lands around 10:30 and we easily find the train to take us into Central Philly. Our 6-hour layover gives us a chance to explore a city I otherwise probably wouldn't visit. I lament South Florida's lack of a proper public transportation system as we ride the train into town. It's $14 for a roundtrip ticket, which seems like a lot but still much cheaper than a taxi.
I printed out a map of the downtown area so we already know it's only a few blocks from the train station to the historical district. Of course, despite having a map, we first set out in the wrong direction for a few blocks. Once we're headed the right way we notice there is a large amount of homeless people (one with his hand down his pants, classy) and the area is seedy in general. I'm used to homeless people but it sucks that this was our first impression of the city. We pass a lot of drugstores but don't see any restaurants during the entire 6 block walk. I'm already wanting a Philly cheesesteak and yes, that was my main concern during our short visit.
It's obvious when we reach old Philadelphia. There's a beautiful open green square housing the Liberty Bell center and Independence Hall. I'd always thought the Liberty Bell was out in the open, but it has its own building. The line is long and it's hot outside, about 85 degrees (bear in mind this is my first time sweating in the cropped grey sweat pants I'm wearing... this will certainly not be the last time I wear them over the course of the trip). We wait about 30 minutes before getting inside. There are displays of all things Liberty Bell related before we get to the actual bell. I try to pay attention and read about some of the items, but I just can't get excited for the Liberty Bell china set or Liberty Bell cross stitching handiwork. I speed through the rest of the displays and there she is, the Liberty Bell in all her glory. It's bigger than I expected, and surrounded by tourists. It's a few minutes before we can get close enough to take pictures. This is a rite of passage as an American and I'm fortunate I can now say I've seen the bell. But really, it's just a bell with a big crack in it. Seeing it in person doesn't lessen or increase its symbolism. I didn't feel a rush of pride upon seeing it, it was just "OK, let's take some pictures and move on." I was more excited for my cheesesteak.
We exit the back door of the Liberty Bell center and are standing in front of Independence Hall. We make friends with a cop(who was having a good time blowing his whistle at people who weren't crossing at the crosswalk)who tells us tickets for Independence Hall are sold out for the day. Of course I inquire about the nearest cheesesteak establishment. Jim's, which is considered some of the best cheesesteaks in Philly, is too far of a walk given our time constraints, so we settle on Campos' Deli, about 3 blocks away. Campos' is a modest place but everything on the menu sounds delicious. They only accept cash so I use the ATM in the restaurant and get hit with a hefty fee (boo!). This is the last American money I will see for awhile.
The cheesesteak is divine but not what I expect: Cheez Whiz, quality thinly sliced beef, and a crusty hoagie. It's not at all greasy, either, which makes me feel a little better about eating the entire thing (save for a small bite I allow Kelly, who had to settle for a club sandwich since a long flight would be disastrous after eating Cheez Whiz). I'm completely satisfied after this meal and ready to see more sights.
We pass by a store named "Prom Headquarters" which has tuxedos in a wide range of colors (aqua, coral, every fluorescent imaginable)in the front window. We take this as a sign we're not in the nicest part of town and head a few blocks over. We end up at a small park with a few historic buildings where we spot two men dressed in traditional colonial outfits sitting on a bench under a tree. Are they paid to do this or do they just show up? One of them chats us up in some sort of Irish/English hybrid accent. We play along and find out he's a professional "gentleman of leisure." We tell him we're going to Greece and, since he lives in the 1700s, cannot grasp that we can make it to Greece in a day's time. We take pictures and then head back toward Independence Hall.
We walk until we reach the park behind Independence Hall and decide to relax for a while under the trees. We make a few phone calls and Kelly yelps when she feels something wet hit her cheek. A bird pooped on her face! She wipes it off before I'm able to get out my camera. We immediately leave, realizing the birds in the trees above see bullseyes on our foreheads. We head back toward the train station, first stopping at Walgreens for 5-hour energy shots (to be used only for emergencies in Greece... I end up only having 2 the whole time!) and Tylenol PM (to sleep on the plane).
We have little more than an hour to kill once we reach the airport. I stock up on 2 liters of water for the flight. This is the start of my mass consumption of water. While we're waiting we take out our Contiki documents to get ourselves pumped. Kelly leaves to use the restroom and while she's gone I'm approached by Julie, who'd seen us looking through our Contiki stuff. It turns out 3 girls on our flight are on our trip: Nicolette, Gabriella and Julie. They're from Cleveland and at the time we have no idea this is only the beginning of our airport relationship. We talk for a few minutes and I find out two of them are elementary school teachers and one is an accountant. They all seem cool so my worries about having a shitty group start to fade.
Once we're on the plane I can't help but notice two obnoxious and clearly drunk 20-something guys sitting two rows ahead of us. Before we even take off they are approached by two different flight attendants and are told they won't be allowed to drink during the flight. For awhile it seems like they might get thrown off the plane. I decide I hate both of them which means they will probably be on our tour. I can hear the liberal use of "bro" in their drunken banter. They talk loudly about how drunk they are but fortunately pass out a few hours into the flight.
What I remember of the flight wasn't so bad. We're served a pasta dish for dinner that's on par with a Lean Cuisine. The TVs are broken on the plane and we're never shown a movie. Kelly and I pop some Tylenol PMs and thanks to the window seat I sleep for about 3 hours.
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