Planes, trains, ferries, and buses...

I'm sitting in my extremely charming hotel room in Delphi (when you come to Delphi, and you must come at least once because the scenery is terrific and the ruins and museum are impressive, you must stay at the Hotel Varonos because it's fantastic -- my room is quite basic but really lovely, with welcome wine, a fridge, and a terrace looking out over the Pleisto River Gorge with a view of the Gulf of Corinth at Itea, and Yannis has been absolutely wonderful. Say γεία σου from me when you come. Because you're coming to Delphi.) keeping an eagle-eye on the ash cloud. I called Aged P yesterday to wish her a happy birthday and she nearly gave me a heart-attack when she told me Heathrow was closed.

I'm reaching the part of my trip where, given the slightest provocation, I will start freaking out about the travel arrangements. I have to take a bus back to Athens and then another bus to the airport, whence I'm scheduled to fly to London. Any number of things could go wrong. I've been on tenterhooks, trying to keep track of Greek worker strikes, British Airways cabin crew strikes, and volcanic ash clouds. I dodged the first bullet (they are striking May 20, the day after I fly out) and had the second bullet deflected for me by the ninja hands of BA (my original flight was cancelled, but they automagically booked me on the next flight, which is actually a better flight for me because now I don't have to leave here breakfastless and cranky at 5:30 am but can leave breakfasted and sane at 11 am, and now it looks like the strike has been injuncted against anyway (but my original flight is still probably cancelled)). The third bullet is still, possibly, in play. If you'll forgive the mixed metaphor.  And the run-on sentences.  The winds look favourable, but I'm holding my breath.

After tomorrow, I can breathe easier because, while there are specific trains between English towns I want to catch, I can really catch whichever train I feel like for the most part.  It'll be nice not having that pressure.

For now, I have to repack my suitcases, then Skype with Aged P, and head out to dinner (assuming I have digested my moussaka and baklava lunch by then).  Tomorrow I'll take one last look at Apollo's sanctuary, catch my various buses, spend most of the afternoon at Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport (It has a museum. And a zoo.), then fly (ash cloud permitting) to London, where I will be driven to my hotel on the edge of nowhere to sleep the sleep of someone who's finally going to get a good cup of tea in the morning.