The One Where the Guy Takes the Other Guy's Vent

Corfu, Greece

Damon and I have reached Corfu. We are staying at a frat-style hostel on the western side of the island called the Pink Palace. Evidently this place is famous among the under-25 year old backpacking crowd. I guess Damon decided that he'd fit in too, even though he's a ripe old 27.

The Palace really is pink...totally pink. Everything is pink, including walls, signs, togas (for the toga party of course). It's crazy. The place is right on the beach, and Damon and I have had a good time relaxing in the sun. Tomorrow we are going to rent a car and check out the entire island. Supposedly this is one of the prettiest Greek islands. It is lush and full of beautiful scenery, so we decided to make a day of it and check it out.

The real story to report though has to do with our travels to Corfu from Athens. We took an overnight bus out of Athens that departed at 8:30 PM. Damon and I snuggled up at the back of the bus and talked for the first half of the ride. There was no bathroom on the bus, which of course made me nervous (which most of you will understand). But luckily we stopped every few hours. And when I say that we "stopped," I mean it. We sat at these random restaurants for about an hour as the locals dined on their favorite Greek meal.

About half way through the journey, the AC goes out on the bus and it starts to get really hot. Damon and I notice that the guy in front of us is getting pretty agitated about the temperature. He was sweating and got pretty worked up. It was almost like he was nervously frustrated at the heat. He was sitting next to this random guy on the bus, and finally the guy snaps.

He looks around a bit on the bus, and then leans over to see if his neighbor is actually asleep. Then ever so slowly -- so as not to wake the sleeping man -- he reaches up and points the other guy's vent in his own direction. And Damon and I sat there and watched all of this. We found it quite amusing, as we got to witness one man's frustration from the hot bus build up to a final culminating moment.

But the gentleman in front of us was not the only one to snap. I have trouble sleeping as it is, but my chances of sleeping on the bus dropped to near zero once the AC went out. Damon -- of course -- zonked out next to me. I think a few snores even escaped from his way. I -- on the other hand -- sat miserably through the heat, watching the minutes click by on the big digital clock that illuminated the front of the bus with it's big red numbers. The sweat began to build up on my brow, and finally I had enough: I snapped just like the man in front of us.

But I didn't take Damon's vent. No, that would have been a mean thing to do. Instead I did the gentleman thing to do: I removed my shirt and immediately cooled off quite a bit.

Later when Damon awoke, he looked over at me and busted out laughing. He knew that I had snapped just like the vent thief, as on a typical day this fine southern boy would never remove his shirt on a public bus. But this was no typical day.

We finally arrived to a small port town -- called Isthamus or something similar -- and then took a big ferry over to Corfu. Damon and I found ourself on the top deck in quite chilly weather, and as Navy boy Damon explained the different parts of the boat to me, the droan of the motor (and Damon's talking) drifted me away into a deep sleep.

Another quick funny story about our travels: we arrive to Corfu and have no idea where to go from there. Damon had booked three nights at the Pink Palace, so we called them up. Mind you, it's 6:00 a.m. at the time. I dial the number and a lady picks up. I tell her that we just arrived on the ferry from Athens and need a ride to the Palace. She hurriedly -- and when I say hurriedly, imagine a frantic "hurriedly" -- responds with "Where are you? We're at the bus station. Come immediately. The bus is waiting on you." Click.

I call back. "What do you mean the bus is waiting for us?" Again hurriedly, she tells me that she is in a blue car and that she will take us to the bus.

We walk around the corner and Mayna hops out the car. "Quick, put your things in. The bus is waiting." We hop in and there is another driver in the car. He starts with some small talk, asking us where we are from. But Mayna tells him that "there is no time," -- evidently there is a bus waiting for us. We drive no more than 1 km and then there is the big pink bus. Mayna rushes us on the bus. The whole thing felt like a frantic drug deal (or something similar? I'm not sure how frantic drug deals go, but it would probably involve hurried phone calls, fast rides in small cars, and big pink buses.).

And that's how we found ourself on the beautiful lush island!