Mykonos...

Hope you got a good night's rest after reading my last post! I know I sure did. In fact, those extra hours must've given me super powers because I totally dominated a headstand at yoga yesterday. That's right, I do yoga. And headstands. Full of surprises. But enough about my extracurricular pursuits. Let's wrap up Santorini.

Once the girls were aroused from their automobile-induced comatose state, we staked out a place in Oia to watch the world famous sunset. And by staked out a place, I mean we sat rather uncomfortably on a concrete wall in front of a clothing shop. We were still dressed in our swimsuits and summery attire from the volcano and hot springs excursion, which was unfortunate, because it is not particularly warm when the sun goes down in mid-May in Greece. People were wearing jackets and scarves. But we toughed it out. How many times will you be on a Greek island looking out to sea past other Greek islands while the sun sets? You pretty much have to suck it up. Again, we showed up entirely too early and waited over an hour for the center of our solar system to disappear into the ocean. Good news though - it was worth the wait. And I got about a gazillion pictures.

Busloads of people come to this part of the island to witness the sunset, and they fill every nook and cranny of viewing space.

On the contrary, the donkeys could care less about the sunset. They pack up and go home around this time of day.

Finally, the light began to fade, and the hues we had been waiting for revealed themselves.

Epic.

"Praise Him, all His angels; praise Him, all His heavenly hosts. 
Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all you shining stars. 
Praise Him, you highest heavens and you waters above the skies." 
 Psalm 148:2-4

When it eventually sank, it went down like a rock.

And almost as soon as it had begun, it was finished.

Not a bad way to end our time in Santorini. The next morning, we received two bottles of farewell wine from Poppy upon checking out of our rooms. Gracious does not even describe the type of hostess that she was. We parted ways with the rental car (we were torn up about that since it was such a fine specimen of vehicular engineering), and then caught the ferry to Mykonos. Wouldn't you know, the ferry was running late. Or should I say, it was running according to Greek timetables. But once our land-loving legs finally carried us off the swaying ferry, we were cordially greeted by George. He was our second impressively hospitable hotel manager.

Here's a candid shot of our quaint Orpheas Hotel. It was just down the street from Little Venice and the ancient windmills, which are two identifiable landmarks on the island.

Little sister and Little Venice.

The aforementioned windmills.

Our time in Mykonos was short, and maybe it was just us, but Matthew and I left feeling decidedly underwhelmed. The major selling point of the island seemed to be drinking, and the party scene is not really our cup of tea. After a long night of boozing it up, you are encouraged to nurse your hangover at the beach. Unfortunately for us, it rained and stormed much of the next day, so the beaches weren't super appealing. All in all, I'm glad I ticked this one off the travel bucket list, but I don't envision myself returning to Mykonos any time soon. Or ever, really.

I sought solace in the scenic details.

Like cool distressed doors...

...and intriguing staircases...

...and palm trees that looked like giant pineapples.

We strolled through Mykonos Town and window shopped. Jordan and Brynne bought some counterfeit Ray Bans that the store owner insisted were not made in China. I beg to differ, but they looked good nonetheless. We saw some interesting sights. I don't know what other word to use, but interesting isn't strong enough. For instance, we saw a little boy playing soccer buck naked from the waist down. And he wasn't like a baby. He was clearly male and too old to be running around pant-less. We witnessed a cat utilizing the beach as its own personal litter box. Then we watched in horror as a woman proceeded to pour tiny piles of kibbles-n-bits all around our dinner table so that the stray cats could come join in on a feast that was unhealthily close to the human food. Shortly thereafter, the stray cats got into an all-out hissing fit and ran up a tree to duke it out. Bizarre evening, to say the least. Of course, that didn't stop us from smiling and taking yet even more pictures. I thought that the following sequence was particularly worth sharing.

"Jordan, can you take our picture? Thanks. Wait, let me fix my hair." (Matthew takes the opportunity for a persnickety, espresso drinking pose.)

And now I don't know what to think of him. He's not actually drinking that coffee because it was disgusting. The menu called it "Turkish Coffee," but it should have been labeled "Sludge."

Ok, cute I know. He will do anything to avoid smiling for the camera.

Finally, an acceptable end product. I have given up on my hair ever cooperating for pictures. Funny side note: the lady in the blue sweater on the left edge of this frame is pointing toward that tree because that's where the cats were attacking each other in mortal combat.

We pretty much called it a night after that. We stopped by a market and bought some crispy bread and cheese to go with the free wine Poppy had sent with us. All five of us sat around in our hotel room telling stories and cracking up while the rain started to fall. And then the rain persisted off and on in varying intensities for the remainder of our time in Mykonos.

For our final morning in Greece, Matt and I got up at the butt crack of dawn to catch the local bus to the other side of the island where the beaches were located. Our flight left early in the afternoon, so if we wanted any substantial time exploring the beaches, the only bus we could take to the beaches left at 7:15am. The jovial bus driver was practically our personal chaffeur. As you can imagine, people aren't usually up that early in a party town.

Hubs and I had a good laugh at the expense of whoever translated the fine print of the bus ticket to English. "The ticket invalid oneway only..." Meaning you have to use it two ways? And it "must be validated through the relevan machine." Relevan, huh? Not relevant? Finally, "No validation means penalty 10 times more ticket's price." That part was fairly coherent, just not quite fluently stated.

We hopped off the bus at Paradise Beach, which I expected to be paradise-y. Expectations not met. Warning, this next picture is rated PG-13.

Does this even need a caption? Yes, you can camp in creepy little shed cabins near the entrance to the beach. And no, you do not want to know what happens in those creepy little shed cabins. Ew.

Matthew and I were the only people besides the cleaning crew on the beach. We sat under a canvas cabana at one of the deserted restaurants to watch the storms pass over the water. And we ate the breakfast we had packed. Yogurt and fruit and juice.

I bet it would be more pleasant on a sunny afternoon.

The beach wasn't all that bad, but I think it lost points in my book due to the debauchery that takes place there. I was glad to see it empty. Except for one random guy who was roaming around in his boxers.

When the thunder grew more distant, we wandered around the cove.

And we stumbled across an abandoned boat.

And a few lone poppies. Not the Greek hotel hostesses, but the flowers.

Feeling that we had seen what we wanted to see, we walked past some lively storage lockers...

...and back to the bus stop, which looked like it had been extracted from a Mexican border town.

Upon returning to our hotel, we woke up the Trifecta and went to brunch. After that, George shuttled Matthew and I to the airport. The girls would return to Athens later that night to complete the last few days of their study abroad trip. It was sad to part ways with them, and the rain made it extra gloomy, but we knew we'd see Brynne and Jordan again soon. Kinzie was headed home to the waving wheat of our fair state, but my sister and cousin would meet up with us in Geneva the following week.

As our plane took off (surprisingly on time) we said χαιρετισμός (farewell) to Greece. It was real.

Of course, you probably know by now that the EmiGrants don't tolerate free time between travels. We arrived in Cambridge with just enough hours for me to repack and leave at 5am the next morning. I was headed to Heathrow to pick up my bestie, Meghan! I'll have more on that London weekend with the Leibold tomorrow.

But for now, I'm contemplating baking some blueberry muffins. The Diamond Jubilee festivities are this weekend, and for some reason, I find muffins fitting. Maybe because they go well with tea. Everything around the UK has been decked out in its finest red, white, and blue in preparation for the celebration. (I forget that the US more or less stole the Union Jack colors for our own flag.) There are lots of picnics and ceremonies planned in neighborhoods across the commonwealth. The Queen is making appearances all over London during the next four days. Something like a million people will be lining the Thames River to watch a giant procession of a thousand boats. There will be a special service at St. Paul's, in which (rumor has it) Kate will escort the Queen down the aisle to her seat. A giant concert in front of Buckingham Palace will feature Elton John and (who else) the band Queen. I'm sure it will be a spectacle of pomp like only the Brits can pull off. I feel like we should be in attendance since London is so close to Cambridge, but then I remember how crowded it's going to be. And I get claustrophobic envisioning the Tube packed with drunken revelers. And then I feel content with my decision to stay home. I'll watch the live stream on BBC.

Well done, Your Royal Highness. 60 years on the throne! And still married to the same man. What accomplishments! I've fully adopted the monarchy. I think it's an awesome tradition and a heck of a job. Long live the Queen!