Sleeping

One of the hardest parts about this sort of traveling is adapting to new sleeping arrangements. In the last three days I have slept in a room hotter than the outside air, upon a bench on the deck of a night ferry, and in a bland, but thankfully air conditioned hotel room. It's worth it of course.

I slept in the hot room because I wanted a place close enough to walk to after coming back from the theatre at 2:30 in the morning. (Going to the theatre of Epidarus was one of the greatest experiences I've had this summer.) I slept on the ferry to get to Crete, where I swam in the Sea of Crete (bluest water I have ever seen) and visited the sadly overcrowded Minoan Site of Knossos. Tonight I take another night ferry, but I have another hotel room booked for my last night on the 'continent', before flying back to the UK.

It's been an amazing experience, but will anyone be surprised to hear that I'm ready to be done? To stop hauling Dad's old red backpack around Europe and settle into a stable life? Strange to discover after so many years of believing myself to be an independent, valiant explorer that at heart... I'm a homebody.