Greece. This is definitely not the first country outside of the United States that I had anticipated visiting, but when the opportunity presented itself in the winter of 1993, I figured why not.

I attended the Academy of the Holy Angles High School in Richfield, Minnesota and at that time I was taking history classes with a marvelous teacher. Out of all of the teachers I've ever had I would say that Dr. Giesen was the best. She was intelligent, sarcastic and inspired her students to want to learn more...at least she did with me.

Dr. Giesen also organized international tours to take students and parents to different international destinations, not related to the school at all. It was a full package deal so all I really had to worry about was a couple of meals and souveniers...and convincing my parents it was a worthwhile "education opportunity" to let me go somewhere that didn't have a drinking age.

Well, within my first couple of days abroad Doc could tell that I was having some issues with things. It's not because I was one of the lesser popular students, I got along with all of the kids fine and had a hometown friend, Gus, along with me as well. What it was was actually one of the few things I had to be responsible for for myself...food.

I don't recall anyone ever having warned me how different food internationally would be. And if they did, I'm sure I just brushed it off and said I'd be fine. But, especially at that time, which I know is hard to believe since I'm still not the broadest minded person when it comes to food, I was quite sheltered and uninterested in trying different things.

I think overall on this trip I lost between 15 and 20 pounds in about two weeks time. I nibbled on different things so little and was so nervous that I wouldn't like it that I never gave anything a fair shake.

At that time I wasn't even a big fruit fan, but found myself only eating that with a little bit of bread for breakfast and then just pushing around the rest of my meals on my plate so it looked like I had eaten a little something.

So now with all of that said, imagine my delight when I saw a nice, juicey hamburger stand ala the carts you see at state fairs and carnivals, as we walked up a neighboring hill the Athenian Acropolis to get that oh so famous photo, right.

I ran right up to the counter of the trailer and order a burger. No ketschup, no mustard, just good ol' plain burnt animal flesh in a bun. That's all I wanted. Hell, but this point I didn't just want it, I craved it, I needed it. There was no denying me this delicious piece of meat when I've been without for oh so long...two days by this point to be honest.

I was brimming with excitement as I unwrapped the burger and sunk my teeth into it. I knew it'd be just like home and that it'd be as delicious as I had hoped.

And then the sharp realisation sunk in as I spit it out on the pavement. Not all meat in the world, even hamburger, tastes like it does back home. Even to this day I have to find one place outside of North America that would taste like it does anywhere in the States.

But, the trip went on and I trudged through sucking it up. I never complained or whined once, unusual for me I know, but just did what I could with what was presented to me. Although I'm sure the gyros vendor was presented with more amusement than I was nourishment when I ordered a gyros totally and completely plain...meat and pita only.

Maybe though, just maybe, the next country we visited on this trip would be culinarily superior to what I was experiencing here in Greece...