Welcome Back to Athens

When we got back to Athens late on a Wednesday afternoon, we headed to the dodgy red-light, drug-dealing area of Omonia to check up on our streetcorner standing girls. Although we'd tried to get in early to some inexpensive places in nice touristic Plaka we'd had no success. So we returned to this grubby bit of Athens in search of a place to kip. Although more than we'd usually pay, Hotel Parnon was awesome for the price. A functional shower is the most blessed thing for travellers like Dirty Dave and I. Since we were flying out the next morning, we never expected that we'd stay there another night.

We got to the airport at 9.05am, expecting to be two hours early for our 11am flight. When Dave got out the piece of paper to check where to go for the tickets he was taken aback. 'Our plane's leaving right now! We've missed it' he announced defeatedly. We rushed to find the counter in case of a delay, but alas we'd misread the arrival time as the departure. A right fix indeed - the plane had left without us. We went to the airline desk, and for a fee of 40€ each changed our details to exactly the same flight, same time next day. We knew we were in for a ribbing but all that mattered is that we were both O to the K.

We checked out some other sleeping options in Syntagma - ridiculously expensive. We looked around Omonia and discovered seriously skanky rooms, with towels draped over the floor to absorb recent sticky messes. We returned to Parnon hotel to be met by a bewildered reception attendant. He offered as a glass half-full solution, saying at least we had another day to explore Athens. All we explored was alcohol and food, but it was quality stuff.

We found a funky bar called Bretto's which professes to only stock hand-selected specialties. Dave had this rose liquer which tastes like rose turkish delight - sweet and drinkable. His second drink was potent though - a honey liquer (Rakimelo) which didn't go down well. Despite the 'don't like it, we'll get you another' mantra of Bretto's, the guy just kind of balked and said Dave had chosen it himself. I had some nice wines though.

I'll cut this short to share lots about our Spanish adventure. Good news is we got out second flight arriving in Madrid the next day. Bad news is our run in with Greek metro tranport people and the big fines they slapped us with. Ouch!

Pausing in Passau (7-8 July)

Now I was being gentle, easing you into this post with the carefully placed 'pausing' in Passau. But substitute it for 'pissing around in Passau' and you have mum's summary of our time in Passau. We didn't get much accomplished, bar from eating and sleeping.

When you venture out of Lonely Planet territory, you know things will be more difficult. Rocking up in Passau, Germany we find ourselves totally stuck for accommodation.

We couldn't get through to anyone prior to book rooms. Following signs to Jugendherbege (youth hostel) we learn from locals that it is hours away. Where are my German speaking friends (Alice, Larissa!) when I need them? Dialling several pensions and hotels I learn they only speak German. English - nein!

Grabbing my phrasebook, I call again. Butchering German in process, I fire of a barrage of questions from the Deutsche: Accommodation section. Do you have double rooms,? How much? Can I come see?. Now I didn't understand all the answers, but I was pretty sure a room was free. With trepidation we set out to find the place, and it was only a few streets down. So for the next two nights we stayed at Hotel Wienar Wald.

It was fine, except for the first night. We were underneath the Go! nightclub which had revellers in and out until early morning. Also, a restaurant on the street below featured excrutiatingly painful live entertainment. An amateur songmaker sang English and German songs, receiving measly claps after a bout of buffoonery. Muffling the English he sang away and mum laments that he has killed her favourite songs.

Before we secured accommodation, as I mentioned, we had tracked the JudgendHerbegere (Youth Hostel) signs only to learn it was far away. Spotting Rhodos restaurant I suggested we stop for a drink.

Mum starts barraging the waiter in English and he looked bewildered. So I ask him in German if he speaks English. He shakes his head. Ellenika? His face lit up. So in Greek, I order tea and coffee and he tells me that he has sisters in Melbourne etc etc. I butchered the language but he understood me perfectly. We went back there the next day for pastitsio and mousakka. Now, the patsitsio was good but in now way surpasses Io's mums.

So there you go, practicing my Greek in Germany and some very basic German! Apart from that, not much else got done!