Travel Day

The travel from Albania to Greece was somewhat eventful, and it produced some pictures which you may enjoy. I happened to have a friend on the ferry from Albania to Corfu (it's a small world and I'm always making connections) so we chatted on the ride over. Here are those photos:

The trouble began when I landed on Corfu. I was the last one through customs (perks of being an American, don't worry I get karma pays me back later, just keep reading) and found the hotel alright. I, being a half way decent Catholic, thought that I would go explore the island in search of the Catholic church, so that Sunday morning I could attend mass before flying to Rome. I proceed to get lost (that makes two countries I've gotten lost in looking for churches, don't worry that count will increase) but in the process I took photos of the island.

I eventually found said church and returned to the hotel after chowing down on fresh calamari and french fries. I discovered via the internet that mass began at 10:30 on Sunday mornings, presenting me with a schedule issue, as my flight was set to take off at 1:10. If mass ended at 11:30, I determined I could return to the hotel, grab my bags, and make the airport by noon, giving me plenty of time to get through the tiny airport. This plan went off without a hitch; I packed up, walked the mile to mass and grabbed a morning photo of the harbor.

 

The church was fairly small, and remained empty till about 10 minutes before mass. I noticed some strange aspects to this church though. The first was an obnoxious tourist with a huge camera taking photos of literally everything. Next there were three children wearing white robes, who were joined by three more closer to mass time. I thought it strange that they used so many altar servers, but I thought that was the Greek way. The next individual threw off this perception. A little man wearing a pink skull cap entered the church, went to the altar, bowed and went to the sacristy. For those playing along, you realised what I soon found out: that the Bishop of Corfu had just entered the church and I was at a First Communion Mass. I gave it an hour, and when I realized I wasn't going to make both Communion and my flight, I took off, but not before grabbing this photo of the Bishop:

I am usually opposed to photos during mass, but I'm going to make an exception on this trip. When I meet the Pope, you best believe I'm taking a photo. Anyhow, I rushed off to the airport, only to be told that my two bags were two heavy, and that I would need to pay 100 euros to fly. This is no bueno, and I was in a pickle until one of the desk clerks realized I was an American. She changed her tone when she realized I play for the Stars and Stripes, worked some things on the computer, and found a way to fly one of my bags for free, so that I only paid 50 euros. I arrived in Rome, was picked up by the taxi my dad bought for me and had the drive to the apartment where I'm staying. I checked in, unpacked and went looking for food and a church (still hadn't received Communion). I upped my cllfc (country lost looking for church) count to three, as despite Rome having an infinite number of churches, I couldn't find a single one (except the Vatican, but I was in no mood to get suited up for a Vatican City mass). I eventually found one, received Communion, bought pizza and gelatto, got lost returning to my apartment, finally found it again, and then showered and prepared for work today. I leave you with this delightful photo of my leg, comparing three weeks in the sun and three weeks covered by socks.

Rocking the Mediterranean Tan