I wake up feeling melancholy. It’s my last day in Athens before flying home tomorrow. How can a month have passed already? On one hand it feels like I’ve been away for a long time, but on the other hand it seems like I just left.
I have no plan for the day other than to watch the changing of the guard at the Monument of the Unknown Soldier. On Sundays there is a special ceremony that’s more elaborate than the hourly soldier change during the week.
On my way to the changing of the guard, I can hear a church service through the open doors of the Cathedral Church of Athens and wander inside. The place is packed with locals and a film crew. It appears there’s something special about today as the patrons seem in awe of the elderly priest who’s conducting the service. He reminds me of Professor Dumbledore with his snow white hair and beard. His head is topped with a jewelled headdress and he’s wearing a long, shimmery white robe. The younger priests assist him from the apse to the front of the congregation and hold a large book open that he reads from in a sing-song voice.
I realize time has gotten away from me and I hurry to the changing of the guard. There’s a large crowd and the police have cordoned off an area. I find a spot across the street and wait. I see a marching band coming down the boulevard followed by twenty or so soldiers in traditional dress. They march in formation to the two awaiting soldiers at the monument. It thunders ominously and big, black clouds are rolling towards the crowd. I’m hoping the rain holds off until the ceremony is complete.
As the changing of the guard is finishing, I feel large rain drops. People start to scatter and the downpour begins. I have my little umbrella so I don’t have to hide under a tree this time, but my feet get wet as the drops bounce off the sidewalk. And as quickly as it began, it finishes. It literally lasted minutes, and now it’s an intermittent light shower.
I wander the streets in historic Plaka in search of a souvenir for my mom, and I’m not having much luck. A lot of the stuff is tacky tourist items, ridiculously overpriced or just not what my mom would like. I find a nice scarf and then see it’s made in India. That kind of defeats the purpose of bringing her something back that’s Greek!
I give up and now that the sun is out, I opt for a last Athens lunch at an outdoor cafe called Oiwvós. I have time to reflect on the past month and start thinking about where I would like to go on my next trip. Everything depends on the covid requirements for the country so I will need to do some research. In these times, there’s much to consider when planning a trip other than what the weather will be like, is a visa required or can I get a deal on a plane ticket. I have in mind a hiking trip across Ireland, a visit to Venice or perhaps a trip to the Faroe Islands. Having a future adventure in mind makes me feel less sad about the ending of this one.
Time to pack my backpack one final time…
