Last Second Chances

Little to the knowledge of all you Chasers (that’s what I’ve finally decided to call you due to the lack of other reliable nicknames…get it?  You’re like a chaser during a certain social activity that I’ve never ever partaken in but my blog’s name hints at!), we all went to Crete last weekend, resulting in me once again having no access to internet for four days.  By the time we got back, not only did I gain many experiences to tell you about, but the Twins were only 2 games back, the Gophers and Johnnies had won, and a certain ex-Packer had helped the Vikings do something that I can’t remember them ever doing before in my lifetime: come from behind on the last drive to win a game.  But enough about Brett Favre…after all, you became Chasers to hear about me, not the greatest throw in an over-the-hill QB’s career, right?  That’s right, even though listening to Paul Allen call that play is like the first time I heard the Beatles.

Now that you’re all smiling, or at least my Minnesota readers are, I’ll tell you a little bit about Crete.  The trip started off with all of us catching a night ferry on Thursday.  Unfortunately, the ferry had screwed up our order and we weren’t getting the cabins that we had been promised.  Instead we were forced to spend the night in a small room with many rows of airplane seats.  I think Ryan best described this room when he called it a “floating homeless shelter.”  The smell when we opened the door was horrible.  Think about a mix of all the worst smells you can, mix them together, and you get the scent that we now call “ferry,” (Example: “Did you forget to put deodorant on the last couple days?  You smell like ferry.”).

After a night of little sleep, we arrived at Crete at 5 AM, which was only two hours earlier than expected.  Luckily our bus was already there so we were able to sleep for a while as we rode to Minos’ Palace at Knossos.  For those of you who don’t know, King Minos was a character in Greek mythology (and in real life) that had a large palace on Crete.  This palace was especially famous for it’s labyrinth, in which was kept the Minotaur (a man’s body with a bull’s head) bred from his wife and a bull.  What is left of the palace is mostly a reconstruction, but it’s easy to see just how large it was.  The labyrinth, however, was disappointing.  What remained was just a little bit of rock that formed a semblance of a path that didn’t seem confusing at all.  I guess it’s just proof that Greek myths are never as they seem to be.

After the palace, we went to the museum dedicated to artifacts found at the site, which was pretty cool.  Then, we were off on a three-hour bus ride to our hotel at Chania (pronounced HAN-yah).  By the time we reached our hotel, we had all been sleeping on-and-off in cramped seats for almost a full day, causing most of us to collapse into our beds and sleep some more.  Besides, we had a big day ahead of us.

The next day was the most eventful of the trip.  We all woke up early at 7 to catch a bus that took us to the Samaria Gorge on the south side of the island.  This gorge is essentially a large crack in between the mountains that runs 18 kilometers all the way to the South Coast and the Mediterranean.  The cliffs at some points are over 500 meters high and are straight down.  I tried my best to take pictures of this place, but no one’s camera can truly do justice to the beauty of this national park.  Our hike consisted of sing-alongs, twisted ankles, embarrassing falls, Lord of the Rings quotes, tons of pictures, and finally a swim in the sea at the end.  Though it was a tiring downhill trek (we started at about 10:00 and made it to the coast at 4:00), it was worth every euro cent.  It’s easy to guess that once again we all went back to the hotel and slept (We’re such party animals).

Sunday was a free day, which I chose to utilize by getting a fever and an extremely sore throat.  I was basically out of commission for the day, and the worst part was that we weren’t leaving until 7 on another night ferry.  Awesome.  Since most of us were bored out of our minds, we made our way over to the bus stop (about 150 meters from our hotel) at about 6 and just waited.  This was fine by me because it allowed me to sit around in the front of the line and get a little rest.  By the time the bus came, no one was more ready to leave than I was…unless you count the fact that I had forgotten my duffel bag at the hotel.  Again…awesome. 

It wasn’t until I reached the back of the bus and Matt asked where my bag was that I noticed my fatal flaw.  I tried desperately to get back to the front of the bus while everyone else moved towards me down the isle, but it was hardly any use.  By the time I was at the front there were only 5 more people in line.  I tried to ask the bus driver for my ticket back, but he didn’t understand.  He thought I was asking to buy a ticket and kept telling me it would cost 2 euro.  I soon had to give this up and hopped off the bus.

I now had two choices: either pay two euro for a new bus ticket and catch the next one a half hour later, or sprint back to the hotel, grab my bag, and try and make it back before the bus left.  I chose sprint.  Now I may not be in the same shape that I was back when I was a superstar track athlete, but I can still accelerate like a moped and fly.  Besides, I was a 400-meter runner and this was only 300 (plus the weight of a backpack and later a duffel bag).  Without further ado, I was off.  I ran across the intersection without stopping for the traffic and booked it down the street towards the hotel.  The desk lady looked up at me as I came skidding in, but she probably only saw a blur of red clothing as I deftly maneuvered into the bag room, grabbed my duffel bag, and ran back out. 

As I headed back down the street, I could feel myself losing gas, weighed down by the bags and my feverish symptoms.  I looked up ahead and saw the bus, but to my dismay it was leaving the stop.  I tried to kick it into my last gear, but just as I throttled into 5^th the bus turned to the left, away from me.  That was it.  I had failed and had given myself a huge headache to boot.  I threw my bag in anger and cursed my way down the rest of the street.

After trudging a little farther, I reached the intersection where the bus would have been.  I gave one last hopeless look to my right just in case, and what to my wondrous eyes would appear but the bus stopped at the next stoplight!  This was my last chance.  I took off at a dead sprint with all my remaining energy towards the bus, praying that the light would stay red.  As I got closer I could see all my classmates waving me on from inside the windows, including one who was yelling at the driver to stop.  And what do you know…he did. 

I lumbered onto the bus, smiling feebly at the driver.  As I turned up the stairway, I was met with applause and cheers.  It was a standing ovation (this could’ve been because the bus had no seats left, but my ego says they were standing for me).  One kid proclaimed it the highlight of the weekend watching me run from the bus and back.  From the back I heard someone say, “The kid’s an athlete,” but I was too out of breath to acknowledge the comment.  I collapsed into a seat that opened up for me, heaving heavily.  It was a perfect moment (Unfortunately, I had no idea how much I would later pay for my “moment” on the ferry.  That short 300-meter sprint completely wiped me out and kicked my fever into high gear.  When we arrived back in Athens the next morning at 5 AM, I had maybe gotten 2 hours of sporadic sleep.  Such is life.).

Since this was technically our fall break, we had Monday off to complete the four-day weekend.  The day was spent getting better and studying for our Greek language final (you heard right…our final class of Greek language was on Tuesday), which ended up not being that bad.  As if our schedule isn’t already easy enough, we now only have four classes: one that only meets on Mondays, one that goes to museums every Wednesday, and one that will be done next Tuesday.  I guess this means our time in Greece is winding down.  Boy that went fast.

In other news, we purchased an MLB gameday package that will allow us to watch the remaining Twins games for their final playoff push.  We watched the first part of the double-header yesterday, and will most likely watch the game tonight (actually, tomorrow morning at 2 AM for us) because we don't have class tomorrow until 1:30.  We figure any help the Twins can get, even if it's us watching from Greece, will be beneficial.  Go Twins!

That's about all for now.  We have next weekend off, so I should be able to write a little earlier and not bombard you with a huge post like this one.  However, this will mean that I won't have as many pictures next post, but here's the ones from last weekend to satisfy you for now.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: The Kapke Family.  The Kapke's deserve a shout-out this week because they are my loyal followers from the great state of Wisconsin.  I have no doubt that they are quaking in fear as the Packers get ready to take on the Vikings on Monday Night Football.  Dare I mention that the game is at the Dome and that this time we have that old guy who wears number 4?  Oh my heavens...

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 3

Matt: 1

Ryan: 2 - Ryan earned himself another point this week with his "homeless shelter" comment.  Even though his comment was insulting, I don't think any of us could agree with him more.

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves