The final trip

5 am on Monday May 10 came quick. Before I knew it we were leaving the El Greco hotel and I had a long day ahead of me taking me all the way back to Boston, MA. I was full of both excitement and dread. I was not looking forward to the 22 hours of traveling I had ahead of me but after 4 months, I was ready to return home.

So we hoped in a cab from our hotel to take us to the Santorini airport where we would all fly from Santorini to Athens before many of us parted ways for the last time. I had a plan: sleep through the flight to Athens. Mission Accomplished.
Then we arrived in Athens where Katie, Becky and Avery had flights to Atlanta, GA, Paris and Madrid. So Hannah and I left them and made our way through the airport just in time to board our next flight, Athens to London, the plan again was to sleep. This time, mission was not quite as successful. With a breakfast served on board and a free movie, we watched television, talked and slept a little. Then we were back on familiar grounds at Heathrow. London for the last few hours, what did we do? Went through passport control, who discussed the bars we went to rather than the classes we took, got our bags and went through customs and then found a pub to enjoy one more fish & chips. Then I was on my own again, which was weird because I hadn't flown alone since I first arrived in London.
So I went underground to go from Terminal 1 to Terminal 3 so I could get on my final flight from London to Boston. So I arrived at the Terminal and went to check in, which is what brought on trouble. I walked up to the counter to check in and the not-so-friendly employee helping me informed me that my flight was cancelled. Oh god. Volcano strikes again? But I had JUST checked my flight online and it was on time. So I asked how that was possible. Then she realized I wasn't on that flight...idiiot...but that my flight would most likely get cancelled as well. Great. But she took my bag anyway and told me that my gate would be posted by 2:30 and that it may be later than that and that of course my flight could get delayed up until the minute its supposed to leave the gate. Then she took my bag and she told me my bags would be checked through to Boston. Needless to say, I did not like her. Then I called my mother freaking out and crying that I would not get home before sitting down just infront of the screen which posts the gates and sat there watching for the remaining hour I had before it was supposed to board, very very anxiously. By 2:45, my flight had a gate and I was checking in to again wait for us to board, which did not happen until 3:30. The flight attendant told us to be quick as we had a 4:00 runway time...which we didn't make so we again had to wait until 5. By that time, I was ready to go still convinced this flight would never take off. But, it did. I got lucky being on the only flight out of 3 American Airlines flights to Boston that day to get out. Only took us an extra couple of hours and got a few interesting views of the Volcano. I hate that volcano, can't say I'm upset to not be under its shadow anymore. Then from a distance I saw it, that familiar coastal town, the colorful water tower and the runway always seemingly too close to the ocean. Boston was on the horizon and I was finally home.
Before long, I was going through passport control, picking up my bags and going through customs for the final time. I was greeting my mom on familiar soil, who had a french toast bagel with honey walnut cream cheese and a bottle of water ready for me, she knows me well and yes, I felt like it was real, I was actually home., We then made the trek to the car then the quick drive up 93 to Andover. Exhausted, I hung out with my family before passing out in my own bed...I felt as though I might sleep forever...maybe I did.