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By Lara
Where was I? Yes. Kalambaka.
It had stopped raining in Kalambaka by the time we left the hotel. We drove back up into the mountains of Meteora. We visited the monastery of St. Mumblecough. I could reach over to my little pile of things to include in the eventual scrapbook to look up the name, but you won't remember in five minutes anyhow. It was beautiful no matter the name. There were more stairs to climb than I had expected, but it was worth it.
After I finished poking around in the various dark corners, running into monks, and wishing I could take pictures of the velvet-bound Bibles, I walked back down the stairs to find a place for some quiet reflection. I sat on a small stone wall where I had a view of a rose garden and two mountain peaks. I contemplated the surreality of it all. I was in Greece having a once in a lifetime experience. I tried to really take it all in. The cool mountain air. The distant birds. The sheer history of it all. The radio of the vendor behind me playing AC/DC...
Far too quickly, it was time to get on the bus. There were long periods of time on the bus. I know that we had lunch. I am fairly sure it was in Lamia. Yes! I had my first taste of genuine Grecian baklava. It was heaven.
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