Time for Mykonos! This morning, Bridget and I checked out of Villa Manos and were dropped off at the ferry port so that we could get to Mykonos. We were excited when we arrived at Port 4 and thought the huge ferry looked like a cruise ship. We soon discovered, it wasn’t. Getting on the ferry was very frantic. Everyone boarded with no organization and we were told to leave our luggage anywhere on the first floor. We were left crossing our fingers that no one would take our bags. This isn’t a small boat we’re talking about, this is a ship. We were then yelled at to “Go up! Go up!” As you climbed the staircase, each floor was filled with airplane seats with a seemingly never ending series of chairs. We were advised to stay in our seats for the ride as the boat left the port. In for a much rougher ride than expected.
As we sat closed in by the low ceiling of the ferry, the waves tossed us through the sea. You couldn’t help but feel sick as the boat rocked back and forth while you were surrounded by people in your small airplane-like seat. The sound of many people around me getting sick in their paper bags was enough to make me never want to do the ferry ride again. Bridget and I agreed that however much it is to take a plane to Mykonos, it is definitely worth it.
After hours of rocking and sea sickness (the ferry is not timely), we arrived 2 hours late to the Mykonos port. “I’d give an arm and a leg to get off this boat,” Bridget said. As the captain came over the intercom and announced that we had reached Mykonos, the flood of people began. People pushed and shoved as everyone raced to get their luggage from the first level. Bridget and I practically got trampled as we went to retrieve our baggage, which was lying on the ground. When the doors to the ferry opened, people began pushing their way out. I really thought I was going to get run over. I was keeping my cool until we were walking out the ramp from the ferry and the crewmen released the cars before all of the people were off the boat. Cars and ATV’s held down their horns and drove recklessly down the ramp as we tried to make our way down the side of the same ramp rolling our large suitcases. We walked with our jaws dropped as we shook our heads and breathed a sigh of release to step onto land.
Our next task: finding our ride to our new villa. We were told to wait near the port along with the thousands of other people, so we were relieved half an hour later when we found a man holding a sign for a villa. We held our breath as we got into his old, decrepit and scuffed van, which as Bridget said “probably hasn’t had a transmission test in a decade or two.”
“My door won’t close,” said Bridget. The man took a look at her and slammed his foot on the gas pedal, as the car jerked forward and the door slammed shut. She gasped as she bumped into the seat in front of her and he turned around with his toothy grin and his strong accent and said, “automatic door!”
With a few minor kinks in our journey to Mykonos, everything seemed okay again as soon we arrived in the quaint white stone walkways surrounded by little blue doors. Opa! We made it.