Athens has taught me a lot about myself, my body, and my disability. It also challenged each from day one. Eventually things eased and I found my body confidence growing while my reliance on my cane diminished. Some things truly do just need time to work themselves out or in the case of me and my body, time to acclimate. Which is why it was all the more disorienting when I found myself using my cane again in Vouliagmeni. This trip is about Athens, period. I’ve been to the isl

At the end of week three I extended my stay two more weeks. Which made my former last week feel like a fresh start. I was beginning again from a place of knowing. I knew where to go for whatever I needed in the neighborhood. I knew the bus stops before they were called out. I knew the sidewalks of my regular routes, where to watch out, where to walk in the street. I wanted more time with this feeling of familiarity. I should have foreseen this feeling. On Remote Year we spen

In one of my early blogs from Athens I used the hashtag #DisabledFemaleSoloTravel for the first time and noticed it had less than 100 posts. I remember thinking, “Wow that's not a lot,” and moving on. It wasn’t until I climbed the Acropolis recently that I felt how rare that combination of four words really is. Sometime during week three I noticed I was using my cane less and traveling familiar routes without it which felt really empowering. By week four I had adopted the loc

Sometime during week two I went to Sklavenidis, the local grocery store, for a few things. I’ve already been there more times than I can remember. The store is only one block around the corner from my place so I’ve adopted the European approach of buying for a few days versus the whole week. Sklavenidis. The local grocery store. I’ve learned there’s no good lane at Skalvenidis. So on this day I went for familiarity. I’ve had this woman before and I appreciate that she takes

I’ve written at length about my name and the story behind it (See What’s My Name). You would think with a name like Themi I would be hard to forget. Yet for as long as I can remember one of my insecurities is that people won’t remember me. My memory is uncanny. I joke with friends never to tell me anything they want me to forget. One friend even refers to my memory as a steel trap. But my memory is selective. I’m not great with dates but I’m decent with names and I rarely fo

My first week in Athens was an absolute test of wills. At first it felt like me against Athens but as the week progressed it became a test against myself. Could I handle the challenges I faced against my comfort, my body, my faith in myself? My first night I went to bed questioning my decision to come. And yet I knew not to trust that tired, overwhelmed, and scared voice that was spiraling. I told myself to wait a week before making any decisions about my stay (See Stuck In A

I got exactly what I wanted. I wanted immersion. I wanted to be out of my comfort zone. And now I question if I made the right decision. My first week in Athens was a real test. Almost immediately it pushed me past comfort and very quickly I got good at being uncomfortable. Day one felt like a slap in the face. I arrived at the doorstep of my Airbnb and pressed the wrong button. A man came out and started yelling at me in Greek. I may not have understood what he was saying b

I love a novelty coffee mug. They are one of my preferred souvenirs to remember my travels by but I don’t buy one everywhere I go because I don’t have the cabinet space to support that habit. So I buy one when the mug finds me. I have a mug with my Greek name on it, Efthemia. I got it on the island of Tinos a good 15 years ago. My mom found it because lord knows I can’t read the Greek alphabet. I wanted it immediately because Themi was never a name you could find on a license

I’ve wanted to be a polyglot for a long time. There are two dreams wrapped in that one desire to be multilingual. I want to become fluent in Spanish and I want to learn basic Greek. The second dream was reignited during a recent trip to the Netherlands of all places (see Being Funny in a Foreign Language). I met an Athenian cafe owner in Alkmaar. I cobbled together a conversation in Greek using the few words and phrases I know. I floated out of the cafe and told my travel co