I am busily (but quietly) typing away at a random hostel in Athens while Luke takes his much-needed “I need to shower to feel alive” shower, for which we paid 3 euro. It is 5:57 a.m. here and we haven’t slept yet — sorry, Mom. Having been told that the train station was open all night, we opted not to pay for a hostel but to spend the few ungodly hours between when our ferry from Santorini arrived in Athens and when our (various) trains to Serbia left on uncomfortable (but indoor) benches. Unfortunately for us, the reports were wrong, and the train station closes at 12:00. We therefore spent several hours in a glorified Tim Horton’s, playing cards and reading under the influences of double espressos.

The point: We are safe, awaiting a train that will take us to Belgrade, eventually… More to come. That is, after some shut eye.

Parenthetically yours,

Wendy