No, Roshanarose, my father was an eleventh-generation descendant of an Irish immigrant to the colonies, folks who wended their way from Virginia down through Tennessee and the Carolinas into Georgia. He just happened to inherit the responsibility for his three little girls. of which I was the youngest and the one who was most like him in appearance and intelligence.
Alas, I have not traveled to Greece, although visiting Athens is my lifelong dream. After I retired from teaching, I visited Paris, London, Rome, Hong Kong, etc., but feel I have been cheated of the prize. The taxi driver taking me down London's Pall Mall said "and there is Buckingham Palace," but that is a long way from being shown casually the Acropolis. And now I may have waited too late, for my traveling is curtailed by health issues. Talking about it, though, renews my decision to make an effort! Other loves have gone their ways but, as you say, the Acropolis remains a constant.
Your long flight to Greece reminds me of my flight to Hong Kong. Five hours to San Francisco and then sixteen hours to HK. The airplane became a mess, filled with passengers slopping up the bathroom, clogging the aisles with trash, attendants trying to serve and keep the plane somewhat clean. But Hong Kong and Macao were worth it.
