While the trip had some interesting historical elements from the Church and Western Civilization, it was a trip that featured more mishaps and bad karma than any trip I’ve been on except my trip to Chad a couple of years ago.  When we checked out of our hotel in Athens, Alitalia went on strike.  We were suddenly adrift.  They had no hotel rooms to give us.  No flight to Samos.  Nada.  So we sat around in the lobby of the hotel while everyone scrambled.  After a few hours we were told they had arranged a charter flight to Samos.  I sort of wondered what charter could be put together in a matter of hours, but we went to the airport, which was old and beat up and almost empty.  We went to check in an the men immediately noticed the agents were a couple of very attractive young women who had on terrific uniforms, very low cut in the front.  A lot of us dropped things on the desk to make them reach down to retrieve stuff.  Then we got in a bus to go to the plane.  It went all the way to the wrong side of the airport, giving us more worries.  When we got to the plane, which had oil streaks down the side of the engine cowlings, the agents turned out to be our stewardesses, a wonderful offset to the troubles.  I cannily waited till last to board, helping ladies on the steps, and, sure enough, got to sit by a comely stewardess.  😉  By the time we landed, it was late at night.  When we first got off the plane, there were lights around, but suddenly they went out and we were in near darkness.  Poor Agnes misunderstood and thought that we had to drag our bags up a set of stone steps and fell and fractured her arm.  Luckily, she fell next to an orthopedic surgeon, Al Lievano.  She made the decision to stay with the trip and Dale, Barbara and Ave nursed her, dressed her, and took care of her for the rest of the trip.  This place on Samos was a worn-out, dingy seaside resort. 

 The next morning, we went down to the pier for transport to Patmos, where St. John wrote the Book of Revelation.  Passengers were arriving and boarding easily, but we weren’t allowed to board.  Our local guide argued with the boat purser, escalating ever more.  Then they closed the hatch and the hydrofoil started taxiing out without us.  Our guide kept screaming into her mobile phone.  Then the boat stopped, a hatch above the pilot’s seat opened, and the pilot stood up and was screaming back at her on his mobile.  Finally, the boat taxied back and we boarded after promising that we would  not sue the boat company since we all had to stand for the voyage.  After a nice day, we went back to the boat, which was a hydrofoil, with an enclosed cabin like an airline. There were 8-10 ft waves going back, and the boat was like a bucking bronco.  One passenger threw up, then another, then everybody. 

The next day we took a ferry from Samos to Kusadasi, Turkey.  When we arrived, the Turks told us we had to pay a very expensive entry fee.  We had paid it to George’s.  Big arguments ensued and we finally knew we had to pay it again.  We took out our Greek money to pay and the Turks declared they would not accept Greek money.  So we pooled all the American currency we had to pay the group’s fee.  The place they took us was, by far, the worst western world hotel ever.  It had dirt, rust, cobwebs, etc.  And the food was so bad even the Japanese tourists wouldn’t eat it.

 There was a very bright development within the next few days.  When we departed Kusadasi, Msgr had studied the map and figured out our route came close to Gallipoli, the famous WWI battle where Australian and New Zealand troops were slaughtered in an Allied defeat that should have never happened.  There were over 60,000 Australian casualties.  There is a 1981 movie starring Mel Gibson that dramatizes the horrific battle.  We quietly toured the graves, and the tombstone were one heart rending message after another, “Son, I Loved You So Much”, “My Only Darling Son”, etc.  We said Mass under a tree in that military cemetery.  We said dozens of Masses with Msgr on our 17 trips with him, many in magnificent basilicas and cathedrals, but that Mass is the one that has the most meaning to me.