After 14 hours of being on our feet, we were completely pooped by the time we got back to our hotel room, but Jennie was adamant about seeing Athens after dark. I let out an audible groan and, too exhausted to undress, threw on a dressy blazer over the casual chrysanthemum and crane button-down I already had on. It was a questionable choice: sparkles over traffic cone orange? I’ve never been one to play it safe so I embraced the odd mismatch. Either way, it was nighttime and nobody would be scrutinizing too closely.
If Jennie was making us go out, I forced myself to make the most of it. I turned to her with that look on my face and reasoned with her—if we would be out until 2 am then we would, of course, have to take some photos first. There were too many Renaissance paintings and gold filigree plastered everywhere to walk by without a little bit of documentary appreciation.
Sleep deprived and woozy, the Hotel Grande Bretagne diffused into shards of glass and powdered gold, mahogany wood and floral damask, stretches of warm caramel and potted palms. We ran around its magnificent luxury for just over an hour (talk about efficiency), until Jennie was clamoring to get to Athens’ streets.
Jennie, thank you for these images!