A close-up shot, taken from a slightly low angle, of a small, chipped ceramic cup of thick Greek coffee on a simple cafe table. A small glass of water and a single sweet biscuit sit beside it. The background is slightly blurred, showing a glimpse of a bustling street scene in Athens with people walking by and a hint of sunlight. The overall feel is warm and slightly worn, like a candid moment captured on a smartphone
A candid, slightly off-center shot of a hand holding a modern smartphone, with the screen displaying a navigation app showing a route to a port. The background is a shallow depth of field view of a vibrant, sunlit Athenian street with a mix of older and newer buildings, and a few people walking in the distance. The image should convey a sense of movement and a traveler preparing for their next journey
A worm's-eye view looking up at the bright blue Athenian sky from a narrow street. The shot captures the tops of buildings, a few power lines, and perhaps a glimpse of a balcony with a potted plant. The light is strong, casting subtle shadows, and the composition feels spontaneous, as if the photographer quickly looked up to capture the feeling of a sunny departure day

Morning goodbyes to Athens

I woke up early this morning, partly from the sunlight streaming through the thin hotel curtains and partly from that familiar pre-departure feeling. Today I leave Athens after what feels like both a long and brief stay. Four days is never enough to truly know a place, but it's been enough to get a taste of what makes this ancient city tick.

It's now 9:50 am, and I've already packed my bag, checked out of my hotel, and found a small café near Syntagma Square to enjoy one last Greek coffee before heading to the port. The coffee arrived with a small glass of water and a sweet biscuit on the side – I'll miss this little ritual.

The morning news playing on a small TV in the corner of the café shows footage of police presence around the courthouse. The café owner noticed my glance toward the screen and explained in broken English about the shooting incident from a couple days ago. "Very rare," he assured me. "Athens safe city." I nodded, having read about it yesterday. It's strange how these isolated incidents can color perceptions of a place, when the reality of daily life here seems so ordinary and peaceful.

Looking back at my time in Athens, I realize I didn't accomplish everything I set out to do. I never found those ancient olive trees I wanted to photograph, and I didn't connect with the local IT community as I'd hoped. But I've learned that these missed opportunities aren't failures – they're reasons to return someday.

What I did experience was remarkable: the early morning solitude at the Acropolis before the crowds arrived, the treasures of the National Archaeological Museum, and the winding streets of Plaka with their blend of tourists and locals. I've collected memories rather than just checkmarks on a list.

The weather today is beautiful – sunny and 21°C according to my phone. Perfect for travel. I've already mapped my route to the port, giving myself plenty of buffer time before departure. My ferry leaves at 2:30 pm, but I plan to be there by 1:00 pm at the latest.

As I sit here watching Athenians rush to work and tourists with their maps and cameras, I feel that familiar mix of emotions that comes with departures: a touch of sadness at leaving, excitement for what's next, and gratitude for what I've experienced.

It's day 247 of my journey, with 253 days remaining. Almost exactly halfway. The symmetry of that feels significant somehow, like I'm balanced on the fulcrum of this adventure.

I've been thinking about what comes after Athens. The ferry will take me to Mykonos, where I've booked three nights at a small guesthouse near the old port. After the historical weight of Athens, I'm looking forward to the island's famous white buildings and blue domes, though I've heard it can be quite touristy. We'll see.

The waiter just brought my bill, and I notice he didn't rush me despite my backpack clearly indicating I'm a traveler. Little courtesies like this mean a lot when you're constantly on the move.

Time to gather my things and make my way to the port. Athens, with your ancient wisdom and modern chaos, your sun-baked streets and marble monuments – I'll carry a piece of you with me.

Until Mykonos, Ruben

P.S. I counted 17 cats during my stay in Athens. I wonder how many I'll spot in Mykonos.