From Joy to a Simple Error which changed it all
Greece (Athens & Naxos) — Joy
The Good
After leaving Ohrid, we once again traveled with Daytrip, this time making the drive south to Athens.
Crossing another international border proved surprisingly simple. Border officials focused almost entirely on our passports, and once again, nobody asked to review Darcy’s paperwork. By this point in the journey, I had become accustomed to carrying a folder full of documents everywhere we went, yet many border crossings never requested to see any of them.
Our first stop in Athens was brief.
After arriving from North Macedonia, we headed almost immediately to the ferry terminal to catch our ferry to Naxos. Athens served as a gateway rather than a destination, and before long we were sailing toward one of the Greek islands I had been looking forward to visiting the most.
The ferry experience was effortless.
There were no lengthy inspections, no unexpected questions, and no concerns about traveling with a service dog. Darcy quietly settled in for another trip across the water, just as she had done on countless trains, ferries, and flights throughout Europe.
If I had to choose one destination that completely exceeded my expectations, it would be Naxos.
Instead of spending every day at the beach, we rented a car for one day and explored the interior of the island.
That decision turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip.
Rather than relying on the island’s bus system, we rented a car with full insurance for approximately €80 for 24 hours. Since there were four of us traveling together, it ended up being an excellent value while giving us complete freedom to explore at our own pace. It was also far more comfortable for everyone—including Darcy.
We drove through mountain villages, visited the Eggares Olive Press Museum, toured the Vallindras Kitron Distillery, wandered through the beautiful village of Halki, and enjoyed a side of Greece that felt authentic and unhurried.
Everywhere we went, people smiled when they saw Darcy.
She received compliments almost constantly.
Restaurant staff welcomed her without hesitation, locals stopped to say hello, and she accompanied us throughout nearly every part of our visit.
One of our favorite discoveries was a small gyro restaurant.
The food was so good that we found ourselves returning almost every day.
By the end of our stay, the staff recognized Darcy the moment we walked through the door. They greeted her warmly and even began bringing her little treats—a homemade Greek meat patty that she absolutely loved.
Those small gestures meant more than they probably realized.
One of my favorite memories wasn’t inside a museum or at a famous landmark.
It was simply spending the afternoon at the beach.
To be completely honest, Darcy isn’t much of a swimmer.
She’ll happily follow me into the water, but it’s very obvious she’s swimming because she wants to stay with me—not because she actually enjoys swimming.
The moment she made it back to shore, she happily returned to what she really wanted: stretching out beneath our beach umbrella, enjoying the cool ocean breeze, and relaxing beside us.
Watching her peacefully lying there brought a smile to my face.
After everything she had endured over the previous months, she finally looked comfortable again.
Before leaving Greece, we returned to Athens, where we spent about twenty-four hours before our flight to Barcelona.
This time we were able to explore the city, enjoy several restaurants, and simply slow down before continuing our journey west.
Darcy accompanied us throughout the city without any issues.
No one questioned her presence, and traveling with a service dog once again felt effortless.
The Friction
There really wasn’t much.
The roads through the interior of Naxos can be narrow, winding, and occasionally intimidating, especially in the mountain villages.
Fortunately, choosing to rent a car instead of relying on buses gave us the flexibility to stop whenever we wanted, explore places off the typical tourist route, and travel much more comfortably as a family.
Looking back, it was one of the best decisions we made on the island.
The Ugly
There really wasn’t one.
Not every destination stands out because something dramatic happens.
Sometimes what makes a place unforgettable is the complete absence of problems.
After months filled with paperwork, advocacy, veterinary appointments, and recovery, Greece offered something we hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Normal life.
Takeaway
Looking back, Greece wasn’t memorable because of one attraction or one perfect day.
It was memorable because it quietly gave something back that I hadn’t realized both Darcy and I had lost.
Joy.
Not the loud, unforgettable kind.
The quiet kind that comes from watching your best friend make new friends, accept treats from restaurant staff who already know her, relax beneath a beach umbrella after reluctantly swimming just to stay close to you, and realize that—for a little while—you’ve stopped worrying about what might happen next.
The attack in Sarajevo hadn’t been forgotten.
Its effects still followed us.
I still found myself paying closer attention to unfamiliar dogs than I ever had before, and Darcy remained more cautious around them than she once was.
But in Greece, those thoughts slowly began taking up less space.
For the first time in a long time, we weren’t thinking about surgeries, paperwork, or what could go wrong.
We were simply enjoying the journey again.
Spain (Barcelona) — Almost Normal
The Good
Leaving Greece was refreshingly uncomplicated.
After spending one final day in Athens, we boarded our flight to Barcelona. Check-in was straightforward. We presented Darcy’s documentation, airline staff reviewed everything without hesitation, and before long we were on our way once again.
Barcelona marked the beginning of a different chapter of the journey.
For this part of the trip, my parents joined us. They would be traveling with us through Barcelona and Paris before returning home, making our group five adults plus Darcy.
That naturally changed the pace of our travels.
Instead of walking long distances from one attraction to another, we relied primarily on taxis and Uber to move around the city comfortably. It allowed my parents to enjoy much more of Barcelona without exhausting themselves, while also making transportation easier for Darcy.
Barcelona proved to be a wonderful city to explore together.
We wandered through El Guinardó, spent time exploring the charming neighborhood of Vila de Gràcia, enjoyed the city aboard the hop-on hop-off bus, and finally visited the breathtaking Sagrada Família.
Standing inside the basilica is difficult to describe.
The colorful light pouring through the stained-glass windows transforms the interior into something almost unreal. It remains one of the most extraordinary buildings I have ever visited.
Darcy quietly remained beside me throughout the visit. Staff simply reviewed her service dog documentation and welcomed us inside without hesitation.
One thing that made Barcelona slightly different was that Darcy rarely wore her service dog vest.
One of the scars from the Sarajevo attack runs along the top of her back, almost exactly where the upper edge of the vest rests. Although the wound had healed remarkably well, the scar tissue was still sensitive. The edge of the vest rubbed directly against that area, so whenever possible I chose not to have her wear it. Instead, I simply presented her documentation whenever it was requested.
It was another reminder that although we had come a long way since Sarajevo, recovery was still continuing.
Fortunately, throughout Barcelona, staff consistently accepted her paperwork without requiring the vest.
Traveling together had begun to feel normal again.
The Friction
Very little.
Occasionally staff asked to review Darcy’s documentation before entering an attraction, but the process was always respectful, quick, and professional.
Unlike some of the countries we had visited earlier in the trip, there were no confrontations, lengthy explanations, or moments where I had to educate someone about service dogs.
Documentation was reviewed, we were welcomed inside, and we continued enjoying our day.
Traveling as a larger group presented a few logistical challenges, particularly when arranging transportation for five adults and a service dog, but taxis and Uber made moving around the city surprisingly manageable.
The Ugly
Ironically, the only problem we encountered in Spain didn’t seem like a problem at all.
Before leaving for France—and eventually the United Kingdom—I needed to have Darcy receive her required tapeworm treatment.
Because Spanish is my first language, I intentionally chose to have the treatment performed in Barcelona. I assumed communicating directly with a Spanish-speaking veterinarian would reduce the chances of misunderstandings involving such important documentation.
Instead, it nearly created one of the biggest problems of the entire trip.
During the appointment, the veterinarian initially attempted to administer the wrong medication.
Fortunately, I realized the mistake before it was given.
The problem was that he had already documented it in Darcy’s EU Pet Passport.
Rather than making a new entry, he used correction fluid (white-out) to cover the original information before writing in the correct medication.
The treatment itself was completed correctly.
The passport ultimately contained the correct medication.
However, the veterinarian never signed or stamped the correction.
Standing in the clinic that day, it seemed like nothing more than a minor paperwork issue.
I thanked him, tucked the passport back into my folder, and continued enjoying the rest of our trip.
I had no idea that one small correction would later create an enormous problem.
Takeaway
Barcelona was welcoming, vibrant, and remarkably easy to explore with a service dog.
Whether visiting museums, riding the hop-on hop-off bus, walking through neighborhoods, or standing beneath the soaring columns of the Sagrada Família, Darcy was consistently treated as what she is—a working service dog.
Looking back, Barcelona felt like a pause.
The frantic pace of the previous months had slowed.
Darcy was healing.
Our family was together.
The days were filled with architecture, good food, and simply enjoying each other’s company.
For a little while, everything seemed to be falling back into place.
Looking back now, I realize that one tiny detail—the correction inside Darcy’s passport—was quietly waiting for us a few hundred miles away.
At the time, I had no reason to think twice about it.