Last-Minute to Mykonos: When Greece Called, We Answered

Windmills overlooking Little Venice on Mykonos, Greece.

There are trips you plan months in advance, with perfect spreadsheets and ideal itineraries.
And then there are the ones that fall into your lap when the universe (and a daughter in distress) calls.

This is that second kind.

Ashley had just wrapped up her semester abroad at the University of St Andrews in Scotland — four months packed with weekend travel, new friendships, and more adventures than even Instagram could hold. After classes ended, she and her fellow study-abroad friends set off on a 10-day budget-friendly tour of Italy: Florence, Rome, Venice — “balling on a budget,” as she proudly put it. The final leg was supposed to be Greece. But just days before departure, her travel partner had to cancel, and Ashley found herself heartbroken, unsure whether to go alone or abandon the trip altogether.

Cue the motherly instinct — and a lot of frequent flyer miles.

I had just returned from helping her pack up her things in Scotland (and deliver larger suitcases to make her post-semester travel doable), but when I heard the panic in her voice, I knew I wasn’t done crossing the Atlantic. One week later, I touched down in Athens on a sunny Sunday morning in May.

Greece had long been on my personal bucket list. As a former elementary teacher who once taught ancient Greek history to wide-eyed students, I had always dreamed of seeing the places I spoke about in real life: the Parthenon, the Areopagus, the cradle of democracy. So while I waited for Ashley’s arrival, I explored Athens solo — wandering the cobbled streets of La Plaka and Monastiraki, enjoying rooftop cocktails with sweeping views of the Acropolis, and soaking in the thrill of being somewhere I had only ever taught from a textbook.

But when Ashley arrived, Greece truly came alive.

We sipped (and quickly rejected) ouzo at a colorful neighborhood bar, learned to prepare a traditional five-course Greek dinner during a cooking class led by an incredibly talented (and undeniably good-looking) chef named Stam, and toasted the day at yet another rooftop bar with the most jaw-dropping view of the illuminated Acropolis.

After three magical nights in Athens, we hopped a flight to Mykonos for a taste of island life. It delivered: whitewashed alleyways, sun-drenched patios, seaside dinners in Little Venice, iconic windmills perched on the hillside, and even a sailing cruise complete with dinner and a chilly dip in the sparkling Aegean.

We danced. We dined. We soaked in every salty breeze and sunset.

It wasn’t the trip we’d planned — it was better. A spontaneous, joy-filled adventure that reminded me once again how deeply rewarding one-on-one time can be with your child, especially in that fleeting window between dependent teen and fully independent adult.

We didn’t make it to Santorini or other islands this time — but that’s another trip we’re already dreaming about, maybe with the whole family in tow.

Sometimes, the most meaningful trips aren’t on the calendar — they’re on the heart.

– Stacia