By Sarah Pye
Graphic Correspondent
Gather ‘round, friends, and let me tell you a tale.
It is a tale of some 40 brave adventurers who set out one cold, early October morning to seek their fortunes (or at very least, some authentic-looking souvenirs) in the ancient and historical land of Greece.
They went for the glory, they went for the thrill, but, most of all they went because it was their Educational Field Trip and an excellent excuse to skip a week of classes.
These were brave adventurers indeed who left the comforts of familiar bed, board and bland food of their London home to discover the wonders awaiting them in the ancient ruins of the once-great Greek empire.
And ruins they did find. Yes, friends, these London travelers were up to their very ears in ruins once they reached that historic land. It seemed to the travelers, in fact, that the entire land of Greece was made up of these so-called “ruins” of ancient temples, baths, shopping malls, car dealerships and so forth.
Though, to the untrained eye, these ruins may have appeared to be ordinary fields full of mere rocks that people are, for some bizarre reason, absolutely forbidden from sitting on, our travelers were not fooled — they knew that some of these rocks were in fact placed at the top of very high mountains, requiring a climb of several thousand stairs to reach. And make the climb they did, risking life, limb and possibly even dirtied trousers, because nothing could stand in the way of our travelers’ desire for yet another rock-intensive photo opportunity.
From site to site, our London adventurers struggled on, climbing to the top of the Acropolis in Athens and braving the journey to the stadium at Delphi. They ran the Olympic track and swam in the seas of the Mediterranean, all in their brave quest for knowledge.
And do not be fooled into thinking their journey was easy, friends, for they encountered many obstacles along the way. While a lesser group might have been overcome by the torture of being forced to endure periods of time upward of 20 minutes between bathroom breaks, our travelers persevered. Baffled at being offered apples at desert, they bravely struggled on, finding comfort only in candy bars and ice cream obtained at rest stops.
At the end of their journey, our travelers felt a glowing sense of pride, knowing that they had seen every ancient rock available for viewing in the land. It had been a journey of profound introspection for our travelers, allowing them to make many deep personal insights about their individual abilities to hop from hotel balcony to balcony in order to regain entrance to their rooms via the sliding glass doors.
And yet, at the end of their stay in Greece, each traveler felt a small sense of emptiness inside — a sense that he had not quite fulfilled all his desires of the quest.
What could it have been that the travelers so desired to experience, yet were on the very brink of missing as the time of their return flight approached? What one experience caused that emptiness, that hollow ache that consumed each of their hearts?
And then the answer came, looming like two giant golden arches over Terminal A. In fact, there were two golden arches looming over Terminal A — like the mighty god Zeus had sent a thunder bolt to illuminate them, there shown the bight and shining insignia of all that is good and right and American in the world: McDonalds.
Their hearts bursting with happiness, the adventurers surged forward. They knew now what had truly drawn them to the ancient and historical land — that experience that had eluded them all week, but finally lay within their grasp — the chance to taste the traditional hamburger-in-pita-bread dish, the “Greek Mac.”
Thus finally fulfilled (after a side of falafel fries and apple-baklava pie), our travelers returned to their familiar London home, certainly to remember always (or, at least for a few weeks) this, the adventure of a lifetime.
October 31, 2002