Greece: powered by Nescafe

And airplanes: powered by strangers' GERMS. Cough*Hack*Sneeze*Sniffle. Soon, there shall be pictures, and mildly well-constructed anecdotes...for now: Kleenex and this strange, foreign, offensively bright thing called a computer monitor. The return to work: culture shock. But I am now the proud owner of a 7-word Greek vocabulary (Please, thank you, you're welcome, excuse me, how much, where, and BALLS. fantastic). And a vicious cold.

I'm beginning the slow process of re-acquainting myself with current events, gossip and the new dangers of spinach. Who knew two weeks would leave me feeling so oblivious? As I welcome myself back to "real life" (and struggle to squeeze myself into any of my clothes after nibbling my way through my own weight in gyros), I'm surprisingly content to be back home. Content, and congested.

And, so as not to leave today's title completely unexplained: the Greeks like their coffee powdered. And they like it strong. And, frankly, so do I. Forget ouzo. Gimme a Nescafe frappe, medium sweet. And toss in a scoop of ice cream for good measure. And some Grand Marnier. And a swizzle stick.