We’ve decided that the only thing worse than Athens, is Athens when the garbage haulers are on strike. As they are today, and apparently have been for a while. Lovely. We couldn’t figure out why the piles of garbage rivaled the height of the Acropolis; after a day of walking through both the seamier (for those who have been here think Omonia) and chi-chi (try Kolonaki) parts of Athens, we are up to speed on the labor unrest here. A general strike is planned for Wednesday, including a major demonstration on the square outside our window, but please, parents, don’t despair. If we are able to snag a taxi to the airport tomorrow (the Metro is on strike too, as well as engineers, doctors, even journalists!!!), we will be happily in Santorini by mid-day Tuesday. And blissfully walking around the rim of an active volcanic caldera. We’re hoping the volcano – on whose rim clings the lovely whitewashed towns of Fira and Oia  – is on strike while we’re there, showing solidarity for pension reform in Greece.

Rick says I write too much, but he leaves out all the great details. We, or I should say I, started Monday at 1:30 a.m. local time, followed by my comrades at about 4 a.m. (Gotta love jet lag: counting the hours ‘til the restaurant opens for breakfast, one two three four five…) We had some quality time reading art history and guide books and watching a few choice Scooby Doo movies.

 Then I brushed Will teeth. Or, I should say, I knocked out his last front tooth with over-vigorous brushing. He said, “Ow Mom,” and spit out blood, along with, apparently, his tooth, which quickly vanished down the drain. But he was thrilled. He’s hoping, with the dismal exchange rate, that the tooth fairy brings Euros tonight. Dollars are like Monopoly money here.

 We set out to explore Athens about 8 a.m. We were planning to catch a funicular up the tallest hill in Athens, not far from our hotel, about a thousand feet above the city. But by a slight (one block) miscalculation on my part, we never found the bottom of the funicular, but ended up walking up the entire mountain, Lykavettos. By 9 a.m. with no water. And a 5-year-old. But amazing panoramic views of Athens, the mountains and the sea —  apparently a rare view in this notoriously smoggy city. Lovely fresh air. A fabulous café on top – closed. A nice English gentleman who took pity on us after we spent another half hour trying to find the top of the funicular – closed. But he managed to get the closed café to give us water, and then we descended on foot.

 This afternoon, we had a great meal at a neighborhood deli (artichoke hearts cooked with peas and carrots, yummy pasta, chicken stifado) (by the way, Will says the food here is better than at home – he is having a total blast – we’ve never seen him so excited about traveling, and energetic) and then on to the National Archeological Museum, along with about 8,000 bus loads of other culturally-minded tourists. But I must say it was amazing, despite the crowds. Especially after my mythology and Archaic Greek art classes this year at Stanford – it turns out I actually did learn something without doing all the homework. The museum is phenomenal, with the most amazing collection of vases – all these important vases I’d been seeing in books and on slides – right there in front of me, you could reach out an touch them (Don’t worry, I didn’t.) But still, it took my breath away. And the sculpture, too, was unbelievable — the sword-throwing bronze sculpture of Poseidon/Zeus that many of you may have seen – I swear he could have at any moment stepped down from his pedestal and said, “What? Who are you staring at?”

Lastly, exhausted and tired of the grittiness of the city, we got an obnoxious cab to a famous hole-in-the-wall donut place – menu only in Greek – for loukamades, a honey-drenched Greek donut. We staggered back here, and Rick is now lying passed out on the bed (I’m hoping he’s not in a diabetic coma), I’m sure just resting his eyes for another exciting night in the big city. Rural Greece, here we come!!!!

 Love you all. We may not have Internet service on Santorini, so don’t be worried if we have a break in our blogging. Oh, and did I tell you our soup-hating son now loves soup – avgolomono, a lemon/chicken soup he insists I learn to cook when we get home. I guess when you don’t have front teeth you’re fated to fall in love with a soup…

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