The Arrival

This might actually be one of those very few posts I'm better equipped to write right now than back then, for perspective is a powerful tool. It's a story of humble beginnings, and proves you don't need money, experience, or in fact any elaborate planning to make your dreams come true. If I can inspire a single adolescent somewhere out there, it will fully justify all this jibber-jabber.

The idea was born rather accidentally. Having spent the last two years studying in Germany, and so redonkulously stingy with my scholarship that I actually kept saving a bit of money during that entire period, decided together with an old primary school friend that our nation needed us on location.

The first flight of my life was scheduled to depart very early in the morning, from Katowice to Athens. That's mere 450km from my home town, so I took an excruciatingly long train ride the day before, then slept for a couple of hours right on these very chairs. Today my back hurts just from looking at them.

Despite the baggy eyes, somehow it felt appropriate to travel wrapped in my nation's colours. No comments.

The plane tickets murdered my laughable budget, but luckily we found hilariously cheap accommodation: belonging to a group of maybe 12-15 young people from all over Europe, we were allowed to stay for next-to-nothing inside a school building in a small town called Nea Makri. In exchange, every morning we'd spend approximately an hour cleaning the local beach. Which felt - and still does - more like a relaxing walk than an actual job. Sweet deal. Just look at this determined face. And this carefully engineered set. I meant business.

And yeah, I still own both those backpacks. And the sleeping pad. And the shorts, I fear. OMG. This blog is going to be chronicle of lame. Yay.

Anywhooo... all that triviality got swept away by a single man jogging through our little coastline town. The butterflies in my stomach were almost tangible, and wouldn't leave me for the three weeks to follow.