Rough start

Fifteen hours of travel deep, we arrived in Frankfurt, Germany, to find half our luggage had not. With a five hour layover to spend,  we sprung for the steep $27 fare to take the train downtown, and had a wonderfully sunny stroll that helped our spirits immensely.

I didn't worry much about our lost bag then, assuming it was an average case of separation, not real loss. But when our bags were still missing days later, the denial wore off and a bit of panic moved in (thank you Facebook besties for talking me through my mid-night low). After days of bad online forms, phones with no humans, and attitudes that suggested they might not get back to us, our bag reappeared in the databases.  On the fifth day the luggage gods gave us our sandals and swimsuits and chargers and books and it was good.

So, after our walk around Frankfurt, and 24 hours after we started, we landed on Crete. We bedded in Heraklion that first night, with a plan to awake rested and tour Knossos before moving on to our real destination (Xania).  And this is where I began to fear that, in the debate over "epic" or "crazy", crazy might prove the victor.  It seems the time reversal was really hard on Eleanor.  She woke with full body trembles and vomits.  The hotel was booked solid, as were others nearby; we had to press on.  When our plan to get her turned around with fresh air at Knossos proved foolish (think hot, curvy bus trip + sick kid) I drugged her. Luckily, I have some anti-nausea meds that weren't lost by the airline. They worked wonders, giving us back our happy and curious kid for a tour of HOT Knossos plus a quick peek at the original frescos housed in the archeology museum in town (photos below).  

There is just no way this trip would have worked for us when Eleanor was younger, and I guess the jurry is still out as to whether this is wise even now... But things are getting smoother each day.