Not because I want to eat it.. I mean, I do.. Feta is delicious.
But when I woke up this morning in Berlin I was fully intent on heading to Eastern Europe. After a week here, I feel like it’s time to move on. The plan has been to venture by train to Bratislava and Budapest. But something has been stopping me from booking the ticket for the past few days. That’s the great thing about “plans”.. They’re always tentative until they’re actually happening.
The forecast for most of Eastern Europe leaves much to be desired. Like warmth. And dryness. And now that I’m actually ready to go, I’m sitting here staring at skyrocketed train prices. So I check flights.
The cost to fly from Berlin to Bratislava is perfectly reasonable, but my mind quickly begins tumbling through the infinite destinations airports offer. The biggest problem with having no real destination is choosing one. It’s the worlds best problem to have– being able to go wherever you want, whenever you want– but it’s a problem nonetheless. Paralysis from too many choices. It’s psychology people.. [or I’m indecisive and have a problematic fear of commitment, but let’s stick with the scientific explanation shall we?]
So I tinker around with flight searches until the thoughtful internet lets me know: for the same price as Bratislava, I could also fly to Thessaloniki Greece! — I can hear it play out like an infomercial in my mind. Great, I haven’t eaten today and now I have an overwhelming craving for a Greek salad. I don’t even like Mediterannean food.
But Shit. I was so set on the idea of Eastern Europe. I’ve hardly been, I’m in nearby Berlin, and I’ve spent the past few days flicking through google images of lights glimmering on rivers and 13th century castles. I’ve even come to terms with the idea of a little rain and cold – it was going to be hard to avoid in the majority of Europe next week anyway. I wonder what the weather in Thessaloniki is like?
“Thessa.. Lo.. Niki…” ‘How the hell do you even pronounce this place,’ I wonder, as I carefully key it in to my weather app. A perfect line of little sun emojis quickly appears on my phone screen. 80 and sunny for the predictable future (please excuse my Fahrenheit). While I have my phone in my hand, I absentmindedly check Facebook. At the top of my feed is an article a friend shared titled “Transatlatic Trade Deal Could Be Bogged Down.. By Feta Cheese”. Killer Journalism.
Great, now I’m thinking about feta and craving that Greek salad again. I go to the fridge, knowing damn well there is no food in it (especially not any that belongs to me). Beers clank in the door as I open it and spotlighted on the center shelf: A huge tub of Greek yogurt and a big slab of Feta cheese.
Okay Universe. I hear you. Shut the fridge. Book a flight and a hostel in Thessaloniki. Shut my computer and sit contemplating the fact that I woke up fully expecting to go to sleep in Slovakia tonight.
Now I’m “preparing for landing” in northern Greece. Think what you want about random coincidences, but I just touched down in Thessaloniki all because of Feta. It might be cheesy, but I think that is pretty amazing.