We are now in one of the many communications zones in the Schipol Airport checking our e-mail and trying to keep the chicken happy while we wait out our 7-hour delay until next flight.

This airport is designed for shoppers. Temptation lurks everywhere - in fact, the airport motto in the tax free/duty free zone is: "Bye, Buy" - nothing like directness in marketing. I am also trying to keep Dev occupied and away from the casino . . . I don't know how successful I'll be.

We arrived in the early afternoon and immediately set about finding a spot for lunch. After what seemed a trek through a never-ending alley, we came upon a well-appointed taverna called the Dry Olive that has been in operation since 1850. After lunch, we visited the Nautical Museum and enjoyed some home-made ice-cream at an outdoor cafe by the water.

Summer has finally arrived in Greece with the thermometer reading 30 degrees Celsius at mid-day. By the time our Flying Dolphin arrived at 5:30 PM, we were exhausted. Below are some of our favourite images - enjoy!

Our last three days in Athens finds us searching for another piece of luggage because of all our shopping . . . We are all tired and looking forward to sleeping in our own beds. It will be difficult to get into a regular routine now that we've been living like nomads for the past month.

Below are some of our favourite images of our life in Ellas (including our four day trip to Rhodes.) More comments and photos to follow upon our return.

Having arrived at the Leonardo Da Vinci Airport outside of Rome, Dev, the chicken and I waited patiently for our driver (the transportation had been arranged by the Daphne Inn) - A well-dressed older gentleman holding up a sign with "Mr. Stefanitsis" written on it greeted us at the arrival gate . . . He enthusiastically helped us with our baggage and proceeded to take us to his vehicle. We walked for what seemed an eternity in the mid-day sun to what appeared to be a bus loading zone. Our driver quickly discovered that he had parked in a no-park zone and his vehicle had been towed. He used what can only be described as "international sign language" (as he spoke no English) to describe his, and now our, dilemma. We were told to wait.

And wait we did for about 30 minutes.

We anticipate that our 13-hour journey across the water will probably be full of glitches, not because of rough seas or inclement weather, but because at the mercy of a 24-hour transit strike. Even though we have checked out of our hotel room at the Fresh, we are hanging out at the Air Lounge (not a bad deal considering how hot the mid-day sun is and how pale we all are) on the 9th floor until 4:00 PM this afternoon - in order to ensure that we get a taxi to take us to the Port of Piraeus. Our ferry is scheduled to leave at 7:00 PM . . . we'll have to wait and see.

Below, is the news article that was published in the Kathemerini English Edition Newspaper http://www.ekathimerini.com/ this morning:

ATHENS STANDSTILL

No public transport today due to 24-hour strike by unions

There will be no public transportation in Athens today because of a 24-hour strike being organized by the Civil Servants’ Union (ADEDY) and the General Confederation of Greek Labor (GSEE). Taxis will be operating in the city, but buses, trains, trolley buses, the tram and the metro will all be at a standstill throughout the day. Some 50 Olympic Airlines domestic and international flights have also been canceled and passengers are advised to call the airline for further information. Hospitals will be operating on skeleton staff. Unionists will hold their central rally in Kotzia Square from 11 a.m. to protest over labor rights and social security reforms. A march to Syntagma Square will follow.

She's efficiently learned to drink water from a glass or bottle. And she continues to explore new cuisine. In Rome, her new favourite vegetable was zucchini - it didn't matter whether it was grilled, boiled or fried.

Our chicken has also discovered animals - and has even managed to "pet" one or two "Roman" good-natured poodles - so we can only image what she'll do to our orange tabby Alistair when we return home.

Here are a handful of our favourite photos to date - enjoy!

We have just come home from a satsifying 3-hour meal at a small restaurant down the street from the Daphne Inn, called "La Corte Dei Leoni". With our little chicken teething and at the height of her "making strange" stage, we had intended to make our last night in Rome an early one. Our good intentions went by the wayside as soon as we sampled the red wine.

We are happy to return to Athens and the Fresh Hotel which has become our home away from home.

The sights, tastes, and people of Rome will not soon be forgotten -- but it is a tiring city. Our feet and backs ache. Dev and I have found negotiating the cobblestone streets and pavements exhausting. Many of the museums and sites in Rome are not stroller friendly, so we have taken turns holding the chicken throughout the day - causing additional strain on our backs (in spite of using a hip hammock).It is strange to write this -- but -- we are looking forward to spending some "down" time in Athens.

Our bed and breakfast is located in the heart of district known as "La Dolce Vita" -- and like our experience at the Fresh Hotel in Athens, we wouldn't hesitate to recommend the Daphne Inn http://www.daphne-rome.com to anyone who is travelling to Rome. The staff are very helpful, patient and have a great sense of humour. Without them to help us plan our itineraries, we would be wandering the streets aimlessly.

Like the Athenians, the Romans spend a great deal of their time in cafès, and, naturally, so have we. Cappucinos are the drink of choice. And the gelato is fabulous. On our way home from the Trevi Fountain yesterday afternoon, we indulged in a large cone of deliciously dark chocolate gelato.

We have discovered that it is very, very easy to spend money in Rome. With cafès, wine bars, and shops around every corner, we have been drinking, eating and shopping our way through the city. We have a collection of business cards from restaurants and wine bars that we'd like to visit again . . . but in a city the size of Rome - there is always another such establishment within a stone's throw to help us part with our euros.

Since our arrival in Athens, she's tasted and enjoyed yogurt, kiwi, spinach, zucchini and her new favourite: kotopoulo . . . This goes against our initial decision of not feeding her meat until she turned one.

But after our recent excursion to a local supermarket (Markopoulos) in search of baby food in jars for easy transport and feeding -- we discovered that "Arnaki me xorta" (baby lamb with greens) was considered appropriate for her age group (!) -- who knew? So, we gave in and allowed her to sample some of our chicken souvlaki. Mealtimes will never be the same again.

Below are some of our favourite photos to date.

We are acclimating to the change in weather as well as the change in scenery. We spent the morning negotiating our way, on foot, through the downtown core to my father's home in Paleon Faliron. Even though I have not visited Greece since 2001, I am still able to navigate the city without much effort.

There are glimpses of change. The transit system has undergone a major transformation since the 2004 Olympics; one can travel by tram (electric trolley), the metro (light rapid transit) or bus. After much deliberation we chose the tram. The stop left us in the vicinity of the house -- there was still much walking through numerous labyrinthine side streets to my father's (now my) home.

Visiting my father's house, five years later, with Dev and the chicken in tow, proved to be emotional. As for my father’s old neighbourhood on Perikleous Street, everything has changed. Most of the old homes have been torn down and new high rises have been built in their stead.

My house is the same, pretty much as I remembered it, although the garden needs resuscitation. And the house itself needs a fresh coat of paint. My uncle Gerry does what he can although it is clearly evident that is was my father who initiated the renovation and upgrading of his childhood home.

Here, in this small house, once inhabited by my paternal grandparents, the outside world barely encroaches. The back garden, once civilized, is now a jungle. Banana and lemon trees, night flowering jasmine, scented geraniums, basil, ornamental peppers, date palms and grapevines all compete for space and sun. With my father gone, there is no constant gardener to maintain order.

Our tenants, who have lived in the house since 1999, were most welcoming - and embarrassed - that we arrived unannounced.

Our next get together will take place on Tuesday, after the May Day long weekend. It is then that we'll renegotiate their lease. It is then, in meeting with our lawyer, my father's childhood friend, that we'll make some decisions on the future of the house on Perikleous Street.

Today, we all traipsed down the block to a local restaurant and broke bread together. Any awkwardness that may have existed quickly dissipated with each mouth-watering entree that arrived. Dev, the chicken, and I made our way back to our hotel, bellies full, batteries recharged, ready to conquer an evening of shopping and sightseeing.

I extend my arms only to embrace darkness.

More than anything,
I want to lay my head inside your mouth
and be swallowed whole.

I love what I do not have and
you are so far.

And in one breath
allows the possibility of rain.

She is a bell-tongued bird, black
the one who cries —

an old road left behind.

My father was an olive tree
who stood alone in the sterile land.

Now, he is an olive
hardpressed and wrinkled in brine.

He speaks promises
in the tongues of dead men.

I am open
green grass promising

With hands
I create my life
the roads I travel.