You know that feeling you get when you leave a place you've grown to love, even if it has only been a few days? That nostalgic, vaguely nauseated sensation that sticks with you as you watch the airport shrink away from the plane window? It eases away as the reality of cramped seats and soggy plane pasta sinks in, but immediately hits you again as you unpack clothes and memories over the next few weeks? I've felt that about a lot of places, but never Greece. Because every time I leave, I'm already thinking about the next time.