There can't be too many more spectacular sights to experience on a plane than flying over the French Alps at sunrise. Once landed, we spent a few hours borrowing internet from an overpriced restaurant in the airport while we waited for Sunny and Iris to arrive in Thessaloniki, Greece where we picked up a rental car--our freedom. Thanks to Sharon's tapped-in-ness to Facebook, we managed to find out that Ghreg on Earth just happened to also be in Thessoliniki at the exact same time visiting friends of Insomnia Records merely 20 minutes from the airport. Thanks to Alex (Zik) and Lah (Alien Project) we found a room in the "Nice View Hotel," with beachfront property just south of town in Agio Triada. A sunset and beach stroll later, we quickly settled into cucumbers, olive oil and feta, which is becoming a staple here in the land of infinite islands. We had a great home cooked meal with local made olive oil and enjoyed conversation with native, Alex, covering everything from Greek politics, history (that you don't get in a history book), religion, education, philosophy, and mythology. Having heard nearly everything under the sun from "12 gods" to "none", he takes the motto "don't believe the bullsh*t" referring to any belief system anyone's trying to sell you who will condemn you for disagreeing. Seeking cleaner water and more secluded beaches, we headed for the land of Halkidiki, the well known mainland getaway and tri-peninsula in northern Greece. Having gotten a tip from Tristan at Sonica to check out the Goa Beach Bar, we headed straight to the town of Sarti for aid in navigating a chill place to land for a beach holiday of swimming on the Aegean Sea. While olive oil and cucumbers are plenty, coconuts are nowhere to be seen. With a countryside very reminiscent of Turkey, the hills support a patchwork of olive orchards, and here you'll find bachlava sure to rot your teeth out and a local tahini that is made with honey! Our west-facing beach views the ominous backdrop of the mysterious Mt. Athos ("Agio Oros" - Holy Mountain), a 6,669ft peak on the monk-inhabited peninsula (and center of Eastern Orthodox Monasticism) with no road access. Mt. Athos is said to be the only land that was not swallowed by Noah's flood. Needless to say we've settled easily into the new rhythm of sipping trendy frape (chilled with milk and frothy freeze-dried Nescafe) and spending hours either on the lazy shore or testing our buoyancy in the crystal clear waters of the sea. An attempt to get our dance on at the Goa Bar had us change our minds with the seemingly "urban club brought to the beach" music/atmosphere we witnessed upon arrival. Instead, we spent today there sippin' overpriced frapes and bobbin' our heads to mediocre house music. The pace was just right though for a day filled with movement not much more than shifting from stomach to back beneath the cabanas. Tomorrow we head to Asprovalto to get settled for our last week spent at the Aurora Festival where we're set to be stage managers for the chill stage--again a pace that will likely not be met with resistance.