Sometimes It’s Good To Lose Control

by Robert Brunelle (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown Greece

Losing Control Can Be Good His name was Gerasimos, and as his name might suggest, he was as Greek as the Parthenon itself. The slender man in his mid-50s with the salt and pepper mustache framing his cheshire grin, was our taxi driver/tour guide. Some friends of ours had met him on a recent trip to Greece and recommended him highly so, we had acquired his services in advance. He greeted us in the Athens airport terminal the kind of enthusiasm typically reserved for only game show hosts and YouTube makeup tutorials. He seemed so electric that lighten bolts seemed to shoot from his baby blue lines track suit. Although, I don’t consider myself to be a very reserved person, people with his type of “apex” energy tend unnerve me. As he embraced me like an old friend and kissed me on both cheeks, exclaiming; “You made it, brother! Welcome to Greece! Come! We don’t have much time!”, a sense of dread began to turn my stomach sideways. “Don’t have much time?!” I thought to myself, “I’ve been on a plane for 13 hours, and my feet have been on solid ground for 30 minutes. What could we possibly not have enough time for??” As he scurried to usher us into his van while hastily tossing our bags in the trunk, his sense of unexplained urgency was setting off alarm bells in every quadrant of my jet lagged brain. I rationalized in my head that, perhaps he knew the traffic was going to worsen soon. But, my wife shot me the kind of glance that could only be interpreted as “are we being kidnapped right now?” so, I politely asked him how long it would take to get to the hotel. He replied, “Only 20 minutes. But we do not go to the hotel now. One stop first. You will see.” It may not surprise you that this did not help to relieve any of our now expanding fears. Inquiries into our destination were only met with vague requests to trust him. I began fidgeting with my cell phone in my pocket, just in case I needed to call the authorities. I said a silent prayer in my head that 911 would be the same number to call, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be. But, I resolved I could always just tell Siri I’m being kidnapped and hope for the best. After a few miles on the freeway, we exited and Gerasimos began rally car racing his way through Athens. He maneuvered seamlessly past slower traffic, down side streets and alleyways, all at a breakneck pace. I would’ve been much more impressed with his driving skills if I hadn’t been distracted by realization I was seemingly about to die. Within a few minutes we reached a hill with a spiraling road that led to its peak. He took this corkscrew road at speed, and the centripetal force pressed me into the passenger door, and my wife into me. We looked in each other’s eyes, possibly for last time. This was it. Neither of us ever thought we would die at the hands of an overzealous taxi driver in Greece, but here we were, clinging to each other as we spiraled towards an unknown fate. Then, suddenly, the car stopped and our guide gestured his hand out to our right saying, “I’ll be here. Take your time.” It was Mt Lycabettus, a small dome shaped mountain in the center of Athens. And despite our delayed flight, he had managed to get us there 5 minutes before one of the amazing sunsets I’d ever seen. We went on to have a great time sharing laughs with gerasimos over the next few days, and I learned a valuable lesson; as we move along the journey, the most interesting choice is often to not choose at all. Sometimes, it’s good to lose control.