Well, I made it home. I woke up in London plenty early for the flight and since I'd used Air Canada's internet check-in, I even had an aisle seat (you can pick your seat assuming the plane's not full already). Just before 1:00 London time, the wheels lifted off and my stay in Europe ended. The movies being shown were Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, which I'd seen, some black and white movie where the guy from Spiderman and Reese Witherspoon enter this TV show (called Pleasantville) and introduce emotion (and therefore colour) to the characters, and Fantastic Four. A pretty good lineup, Pleasantville wasn't as bad as it sounds, and Fantastic Four wasn't as good as it could've been, but I already had heard that so it was good to see it free on a plane.
That said, I don't know if I'd use Air Canada again for a transatlantic flight. There were no problems, BUT from what I hear almost every other airline in the world (I believe Virgin was first) has personal TV and you can choose the movies, pause, etc. Nevermind looking around the stewardess to try and make out the charactersin a show you don't really want to see anyway. But I suppose I made it home safely and with the only mishap being further damage to my backpack (they broke a zipper) so personal TV's aren't really that important in the scheme of things.
Well, that's not quite true. They also changed my connecting flight from Calgary to Saskatoon. It was supposed to leave at 4:00 leaving me to arrive at 6:05 in Saskatoon. However, I'd not memorized the details and when I got to the gate and saw that the flight was leaving at 6:15, I just remember the 6:05 and thought it sounded right. With the time change, I reasoned, one hour difference, plus a 45 minute flight, that should be about right. Of course, it didn't occur to me until I was on the plane that the time change was an hour in the opposite direction (I seem to have problems with these time zones, don't I?) and too late to alert anyone in Saskatoon that I'd given them the wrong time.
Nevertheless, when we got home (my cousin Gus and his family was on the plane home from Athens as well) everyone was waiting and had eaten so I didn't feel AS bad. And it sure was nice to see everyone again. It IS nice, I should say. Aside from the fact that I wake up inexplicably and uncorrectably by 6 AM everyday, and occasionally am tired by 10 PM, there's not much jet lag to get over. It was a little weird to look on a map and see myself back in North America again, but things really haven't changed much. The restaurant's been renovated (again), there are a few things different around the city (HEL is closing, the College/Circle interchange is coming along and they've started digging for the new cinema) but otherwise, things are seemingly as I left them.
Oh sure, my car wouldn't start (I replaced the battery and it's fine now but I think it's running a little strangely), my old 373 phone number has been given to an old lady (who I feel sorry for this week), my cell phone doesn't exist (I'm going to get a new number today), the cabin is sold, my room was clean, Mariah is twice as tall, Nicole has moved out, and various other bizarre phenomena, but things are still the same.
I've spent the two days here running errands, getting replacement cards, a new license, sorting out papers, bills, and so on, and getting life back in order. I start work again on Monday, and then I will be back to where I was when I left almost exactly 7 months ago.
Now, so far as this site goes. A few things. First of all, I've finally gotten around to picking out my Favourite Photos of 2005. Check them out and please feel free to vote for your favourites so that the best come to the top. Or go through all the photos and pick out your own favourites. You may have noticed I added a link on the left hand side called "Site Feed". If you have a news aggregator, use FireFox, or have any other means of subscribing to feeds, then this may be something for you. It basically lets you know when I update the blog so you don't have to check. In FireFox, if you add it as a Live Bookmark, it will also tell you what the latest 'headline' is.
Which is where I'm going to leave it this time in order for a nice segue into my next post about a site you've probably heard about (it starts with a 'g' and rhymes with 'zoogle'). Meanwhile, I'll be working on getting everything done I said I would, more photos and so on posted, and other more Christmas related stuff. If I don't see you before then, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all the best. Thank you for sharing this past year with me.Read More...
So, without a doubt, this is the last post I will be making abroad for a good span of time. For you see, it is Sunday night, 11:40 PM at this exact instant and I leave for home in exactly 13 hours. But, before I go and do a hastily thrown together recap of some of the good times that we've shared in this last 7 months of bloggery, let me complete my trip up until the time that I go to sleep tonight by recapping this final fantastic weekend (and the days leading up to it).
Wednesday. London, England. Temperature: +3C. Looked around London. Amazing Christmas displays, Oxford St. is lit with Christmas-light chandeliers. Carnaby St with multi-coloured flourescent lights and spinning mirrors that act to make it look like there are more bulbs than there really are and also give a cool effect. Regent St is covered with ice blue lights, flashing/'falling' snowflakes, and various other effects, not to mention characters from the highly anticipated Chronicles of Narnia. London really does shame every other city in the world (well, okay, I've really only been to a few cities at Christmas time, but New York was one of them) when it comes to lighting up for the season. Not that London itself is better than New York, of course, nor even that individual homes have much festiveness at all, even compared to Saskatoon, but the city lights are something to be seen. So, I walked and looked and shopped a bit the backpackers' way: walking near all the places with stuff you'd like to buy AFTER they've closed. Of course, with the humidity (not as bad as Dublin but still, to use a local expression, brass monkeys out there).
Thursday. London, Still. Temperature: What am I, an almanac? Thursday, I had to switch hostels from the Generator (big, lots to do, fun, but a little grotty) to a place called the Ace Hotel (they missed the 's' when they did the signage and decided to keep the name as a result, I think). It's not as central and on the other end of the centre, but not too far. I also wanted to go up to the north end and the Hellenic Bookstore and pick up the Greek text I ordered. Finally, today was the day I wanted to get to Oxford, since Friday I was meeting up with Catherine, a friend I met on Contiki in Scandinavia. However, the bookstore took longer to get to and to visit than anticipated, largely due to the great selection of Greek texts. I wound up buying the one I'd ordered anyway, but it doesn't hurt to look at the others. I also picked up some other Greek books that might help my sisters if they're so inclined, including Learn Greek in 25 Years, which seems overly optimistic for me but is quite a funny book (written in English thankfully).
So, by the time I was done there, and knowing as I did that I had to pick up my bag from the Generator, transfer to Ace, and so on, I gave up on the idea of Oxford today. I instead walked around nearby Camden Town, though I didn't make it to the market (I've seen my share anyway), and finally transferred hostels. By then it was 3:00 and I was meeting some friends (Simon and Tre) at 6, so I strolled around for awhile, looked into musicals (nothing playing that I especially wanted to see, so I didn't bother), and met them a little after 6 in a small pub off Tottenham Court. We had a drink there and then they took me out for Indian food, which was great because it was something I'd been wanting to do while in London anyway (they have a very large Indian population and a good reputation for it). The dinner was great, I tried a sample of a bunch and can definitely recommend Chicken Tikka Masala, quite the tasty dish. We went out to a bar and sat on the patio (so I guess it wasn't too cold, though even with the heaters on it wasn't exactly warm) and passed the evening. It was great to meet up with them here, both very cool people and great to chat/catch-up with. It was a good Thursday.
Friday. London. Etc. Friday was the day for me to go to Oxford. Catherine wasn't in until 9:00, and I woke up and got ready to go. I'm not sure where the time went, but by the time I'd wandered over to Victoria Station to catch the Oxford Tube (really a bus service), eaten, and so on, it was 1:30. Still, away I went, after all, I'd been told it was only a quick 30 min hop. 45 mins at the outside. However, whoever told me this must have forgotten to mention that this number applies to only ideal conditions, no traffic, and getting on at the very last stop in London and off at the first in Oxford, possibly using a plane instead of a bus. So almost 2.5 hours later, I was in Oxford. 4:00. It was already getting to be dusk, and most of the things I'd come to see, I wasn't going to be able to anyway. The College buildings were closed. The museum (called Ashmoleum Museum amusingly - to me anyway) was open but I didn't have time. And of course I'd travelled without a map and just got off the bus somewhere I thought looked remotely centralish. Given the duration of travel and my meetup at 9:00, I didn't have much time. So I wandered the town centre and bought some books for the way back/plane. It's certainly a nice town but a little quiet and there's not much to see in the evening, so that was the extent of Oxford for me. I got back right in time to meet Catherine (after a pretty nice dinner of sorts - tapas, actually - in a Spanish restaurant) and we went out for a drink or two and the weekend officially began.
Saturday. The Weekend. Oops, I mean London. England. Temperature: Really quite pleasantly warm. Finally Saturday had come and with it, the one thing I was most looking forward to in London: Franz Ferdinand LIVE(!!!!) First, of course, we had to pass the day. This proved relatively easy. We had breakfast at a restaurant on the corner, the first time I'd had eggs in who-knows-how-long, and, surprise surprise, walked around some more. Catherine, who's living in the UK at the moment, showed me some cool places she knew. But for some reason, even with the little drink we'd had (really, one beer and we shared a bottle of E&J Cabernet) we were both a little drowsy and fighting headaches. Stupid California. So, to get rested up for Franz, we went to a movie. I'd seen everything playing, so we went and saw Harry Potter since I'd missed the first (now having seen it I know) hour and a bit last time. It's a long but good movie, but with the ads in front, it was too long. I really hate paying as much as we do for a movie and then sitting through COUNTLESS ads. Trailers/previews, yes. Good. I love previews. But car ads, insurance ads, sometimes the same ad twice (for a shampoo, except once was with a blonde and once with a brunette). Then they had the nerve to talk about pirating and how it wasn't as good as the cinema. Newsflash: Pirates didn't pay £12 for the show (WAAAAY too much to begin with) and didn't have to sit through a SINGLE SECOND of crappy ads. But I'm ranting. Again.
With the movie out, however, we realized that thanks to these ads we were behind schedule, since we got out at 6:00, still had to get all the way up to Wood Green, and then take a shuttle to Alexandra Palace, where the doors opened at 6:30. So much for a spot right at the front, but we made it there by around 7:00 and only missed a few songs of opener The Rakes' set. We managed also to work ourselves to very near the border of the tall people so we were looking over a sea of short people not too far from the stage, right in the centre, close enough to see everything but far back enough to get a good mix of direct and speaker sound and see the screens. Next up was The Cribs, I believe, who were not bad at moments but need to learn a thing or two about dynamics. And then, stomach aching minutes later (for you see, I'd made the mistake of a beer at the show and there was NO WAY I was going to get to the washroom and back to my spot again so it was time for a hold-a-thon), the lights dimmed. Enter Franz Ferdinand.
The show was brilliant, and the more I think about it, the better it gets in my head. The venue is, incidentally, the courtyard of an old palace, not open air, but covered with a collapsable canopy that they opened a little to let some fresh air in and keep it from getting too warm. So, there's Alex Kapranos (a Greek/English boy, by the by) and the band and all of a sudden who needs the washroom anyway? The set was great, a good mix of old and new. The sound was flawless. And I've become a convert for their new record. Well, OK, I liked it, but now I love it. I don't remember the setlist by any means, but they played Dark of the Matinee twice (two versions of it), Take Me Out (the crowd went nuts, of course), Auf Asche, well, really, they covered it all. They opened the encore with Jacqueline. Well, Alex did. Then, intro finished, the lights came on and the band came in and it was one of the best encores out there. What a Saturday night!
Sunday. Today. Last Day In London. We went out for breakfast again, with me singing various Franz songs all day. We went shopping in earnest for people at home, though in the end I came away with nothing for them. It's hard to do when you haven't seen them in so long. I'll have to do that when I get back. We had a nice Italian meal, we walked in Hyde Park, and now I'm packed and typing this. Hyde Park was nice, but more open then I expected (I guess with all the Jack The Ripper history, I was expecting a lot of trees). So here I am ready to go home. Excited but somehow nervous. Or, well, that's not the right word, but either is excited. It will be weird to leave Europe behind and return to reality, but at the same time, I can't imagine travelling anywhere at the moment.
So I'll save the recap for later, I guess, and just say that it's been great and I'm looking forward to seeing many of you tomorrow and in the coming week. It's been a long time, too long (well, for most of you) :) and I hope we get that rectified soon. See you next time in Saskatoon, and the blogging will continue. Thanks for reading and travelling with me.
UPDATE: I am pilfering photos of others to at least spice up the blog a bit. I'm doing my best to use photos of things I saw and from this year so it's KIND OF like I took them. Read More...
Manchester was a great time, I finally got to meet Mike (aka Mike1) and visit with him. As has been the case with everyone I've met here, he was a very generous and great host and I definitely appreciated the place to stay and taking me around Manchester. I got in at about noon and after some food, we went back to his flat to drop off my backpack. Then, we headed out, by now, probably around two or three o'clock. And we went to the boulevard of a street, where a staircase was located, and went down into a place called The Temple Bar. Ironic, a little, considering that this was the place in Dublin that precipitated my loss of property. However, the experience was much more enjoyable, with all sorts of good music on the jukebox and various European beers at our disposal. Interestingly, the place used to be one of those under-the-street-washrooms. Don't worry, you wouldn't have guessed.
Anyway, with the music flowing the beer was not far behind. Yes, it is still mid-afternoon. There was a gig that night (of course, it's a Saturday after all) and so we left there a little later and went to see The Wolf Parade and some other bands, but the sound wasn't so great. Or perhaps my ears were clouded considering it was 8:00 and I'd been drinking with Mike since about 2. In any case, we stayed for them and the next band, which wasn't too bad either, and then I'm sad to say that I became quite drowsy. I can't keep up with these Brits, what can I say? Or perhaps it was jetlag from, you know, the lack of time zone change from my early morning flight from Dublin. Actually, I had had a late night and early morning, so that probably factored in, Anyway, instead of going out clubbing in Madchester, I wound up at their flat, fast asleep, halfway through a Family Guy episode. I woke up again at about 2:30 AM and watched some TV before Mike and his roommate came in. We hung out for a while, they filled me in on what I'd missed at the club, and then, since I'd already slept quite a bit, I watched some tv, read, and watched a movie before going back to sleep.
The next day, we went out to a pub again and watched a couple soccer (okay, okay, 'football') games. It was kind of cool to be sitting in a pub in Manchester watching a really great game between the famed Manchester United and the less famed Everton. It started, 50 seconds in, 0-1 but that was tied up in the second half and then Manchester took the lead. A great game, as I said. We all hung around (we were there with a bunch of Mike's friends), got some groceries for dinner/breakfast, and that was that.
Another night in Manchester and before I knew it, I was headed for York via train. The ground was covered in what looked to be frost but was actually snow. It took a while before I realized it was snow at all. I said goodbye to Mike, stopped in a bookstore to read a guide, and decided York was a good idea. So on the train I went. Leaving Manchester, the skies were cloudy and maybe the odd snow flake could even be seen if you looked long enough. But 10 minutes out, it became a full flurry, snow falling down like it was Christmas Day or something. I never imagined I'd see that in England. The ground and trees were covered, so clearly it had been snowing for a good spell. I also sat next to a nice old man named Dennis who talked with me about the UK and other things and the trip really did speed by.
I got to York around noon but it was a bitter cold and while I did walk around, even to the famous York Minister (which was closed, sadly - it is Europe's oldest gothic church and home also to the world's largest stained glass piece), but it was just miserable out and the snow was falling mostly as rain. I ate dinner and hung around in the hostel, then went out that evening for a bit before calling it a night. York is a nice town, though, and I was determined to see the rest of it before departing for Oxford the next day.
The next morning, I met Marci, a Vancouver business/tech journalist staying in the same room, who actually looks like a shorter Minnie Driver quite a bit. We both went around the town together and, after I discovered there were no available beds in Oxford for that evening, I decided to go to London instead and take a day trip out to Oxford. It turned out that she was actually also London bound and that there was an embassy party she was invited to. She managed to get me on the guestlist through a friend of hers at the embassy and so that was settled. We did explore the rest of York first, the old Viking tower, castle, and a bit of a walk through the Shambles and a free museum. Then, we picked up our backpacks, took a look around at the railway museum near the station (it is usually home to the famed Flying Scotsman, but it was out on loan and apparently actually in use again for a short time). Even so, there were some very impressive and massive old steam engines, if only I'd had a camera for grandpa. There was a particularly big Chinese one that for all I know is still in use today. They also had a replica of the Japanese bullet train.
Chugging along, after looking at old trains, we got on a new one bound for London and off we went. The timing was tight and her London flat is quite a ways out, so we just went to the hostel quickly and got ready there. Then, after a cheap dinner here that wasn't too bad considering, we went off to the party. It turned out to be a cabaret of sorts, first a comedian, then a pianist (she was originally from Saskatoon and good though her songs weren't exactly what the party called for), then another comedian who was spastic and annoying at which point it was time to leave. The party wasn't too great and there really wasn't much mixing going on for a party whose intent was supposed to be to meet other Canadians abroad. The MC, Craig something, was the only good point of the party, he was bloody hilarious. Well, that and being able to say I went to an embassy party, I guess. We hung out at an English pub for awhile and called it an evening.
Ah yes, the title. Well, first of all, there was that whole Temple Bar Manchester thing. Then, of course, my return to London, my final stop before going home, 7 months after arriving here in May. And finally, walking to the embassy, we happened to pass Russell Square, and more specifically the Royal National Hotel, where I first stayed when arriving in London 4 years ago. Not to mention a red phone booth I have a picture in and the pub where I tried (and hated) my first Guiness. Yes, many circles have been drawn this week, and I guess there'll be a few more to come yet.
In any case, the remainder of my time should be fairly active. I'm going to take a day trip out to Oxford, I have managed to get some tickets for Franz Ferdinand (there's another circle for you: I was going to see them in Dublin before I lost everything (which is why I left Belfast that day). I just missed them in Manchester. And now, finally, I'm set to see them). I'll probably go see a musical while I'm here, and I will be meeting some friends on Thursday and Friday. I can't believe that the days remaining are now in single digits. Quite likely I'll be reporting my final stories in person. See you soonRead More...
It's been a busy two weeks and particularly a busy last few days. We said farewell to the Dean "Toronto" on the weekend with a night on the town Saturday and a nice dinner that he bought on Sunday. All of this did nothing but foreshadow my own departure a week hence and was made doubly sad as a result. The week itself went quickly. I hung out with the girls and Sofia as much as was humanly possible, went out for some more Counterstrike with Costa and Theodore, and it got to the point that the guys at Micro cafe knew what to bring me when I sat down... Sokolata Karamella. I also made it to the horio on Wednesday for one last stay. And I ate 20-some meatballs, which I'm generally not that fond of, but my Aunt Marina, well, they were good is all...
The weekend came again, and my departure was looming, but it didn't really feel like I was leaving. Friday night I went out with Niki, Lee (for awhile), Sofia, and a bunch of their friends and we had a great time. Then Friday melted into Saturday and we all stayed home and chatted, ordered crepes, and watched TV, which quickly became Sunday where we had dinner downstairs with Diane and the wine flowed freely (they have some very tasty homemade wine, which is even better with an apple in it). And, actually, in retrospect I think Sunday was crepe night. In any case, Sunday became Monday, and I got all my last minute stuff done, sent a bunch of stuff home so I wouldn't have to carry it in my bag (I wouldn't have been able to fit all of it anyway), went out for coffee with Lee, Yanni, and Sofia, then went home and made baked apples while George made some loukoumathes. Mmmmmmm... and then, strangely, it was goodbye time, as I left early Tuesday morning. Thankfully, it didn't feel like it was really the last time I'd see them for who knows how long, so it wasn't as difficult as it usually is. It just didn't sink in. Then, back upstairs, where I was hoping to have us all sleep in the living room "like old times" but Kelly wasn't feeling great and Lee was tired, so Niki and I stayed up late and hung out before my last day finally ended.
Tuesday morning I was up nice and early, well, wait, let me rephrase that, I was up early (there was nothing nice about it), and packed and ready to go. I woke the girls to say bye, we hung around and waited for my cab, and then off to the bus station. I was sitting on the bus, 8:25 (it left for Athens at 8:30) when my phone rang. It was Niki. I answered the phone as follows: "What'd I forget?". Turns out I had taken her glasses and left mine on the table. Oops! I asked the bus driver if he'd wait as I'd forgotten something, and then took off in a cab "polla grigora" and made the exchange, making it back at about 8:33. Then I was really off. To a bad start. The bus arrived at the metro stop in Athens 20 minutes late, 10:50, and when I took the metro towards the airport, I'd just missed the previous train and had to wait a further 21 minutes, meaning that the train didn't come until 11:35. Well, my plane left at 12:50, so I was assured an interesting hour and a half. I made it to the airport just after noon, checked in, and it turns out, made it with time to spare (about 5 mins) to my plane. Whew.
3 bus hours, 4 airport hours, and 5 plane hours later I was in the heart of Belfast, which even from the bus ride in from the airport seemed very beautiful. It was. I made it to my hostel with little difficulty, only a long walk and some drunk girl coming up to me, jogging on the spot, and saying "This is me jogging" in a heavy Irish accent about 4 times. I asked her friends where they'd would undoubtedly be an interesting venue. They didn't answer me, unfortunately, just laughed.
The next morning, I hit the town with a French girl (Virginie) staying in the same hostel, and we went and checked out the political murals painted all over the place, especially around Divis St./Falls Rd. We were really fortunate to actually run into Danny Devenney, the man who'd painted many of the non-violent political murals, and had a good chat with him and his friends. A very nice guy and after we talked I asked him if he minded me taking a photo of his murals and he got right in there which was cool. Speaking of cool, it was quite chilly, and we wound up going into a pub to get something warm to drink, but had to settle for something warming. A pint, that is. And then in come the regulars, most of whom, they tell us, have been drinking since 6:30 that morning. Right next to us, two Irish men sit, both ex-IRA members. I don't have to tell you it was a little interesting. If nothing else, it was a good conversation, though their extremist views didn't exactly mesh with my not-so-extremist views. I mean, the one guy had done nine years in prison for doing some bombings, and then he's telling me he lost his wife and kids, but that was because when he got out, although he'd promised his wife no more, he went back to it. He was one of the blanket wearers, too, apparently, meaning the prisoners who refused to wear the prison uniform.
Anyway, we left not shortly after, it really wasn't scary or anything, though it probably should've been, but they seemed to like us and we were willing to listen if not agree, so there wasn't really any tension. I continued walking around the city myself because Virginie had a meeting, and saw that the centre is quite clean and nice. The sun goes down early though, and before I knew it, I was taking night shots and my thumb had split because the air was sucking all the moisture from me. I bought some gloves at M&S and continued along photographing and admiring the beauty. I went out with some of the hostel staff (all very nice, here at The Ark) and other visitors for a pint or two across the street and after a movie, Red Dragon, called it a night.
The next morning I took a bus up along the beautiful Irish coast to Giant's Causeway. We passed many beautiful things that I wasn't able to photograph, but also stopped for a few here and there in some small coastal towns, at a castle, and at a lookout where there is usually a rope bridge but it had been taken down for the year. The Causeway itself, supposedly built by a giant who wanted to challenge another giant in Scotland is impressive but not so big as it looks in photos. Still very neat, and worth the trip up, especially because of all the other scenery en route. We also stopped at the Bushmills Distillery, which is the world's oldest licensed Irish Whisky distillery. The distillation process was interesting, but not so interesting as the bottling area. The place can spit out 180 bottles a minute and was a testament to automation. None of my furtive photos came out, but it was amazing. Then, of course, the tasting, which was quite, well, tasty.
The rest of that day was not too eventful, driving back in the dark, doing some stuff around the city, and so on, but I discovered that Franz Ferdinand plays in Dublin the next day (i.e. today) and so I decided to head out this morning to Dublin, which was next on the itinerary anyway, and go see them and some friends I have there. So that's what I'm doing. Hopping a bus in 40 mins and going to Dublin. I'm not sure the itinerary after, but probably over to Galway, down to Cork, then across to England. Time continues to fly, which is lucky because it helps take my mind off all the people I miss, which seems to be just about everyone at this point. Soon enough, at least, I'll be seeing a whole batch of you, though don't be mistaken, I'm loving it here too. But, I should go catch my bus and some food, see you soon! (pictures soon)
While I have noticed that time moves far more quickly in Europe than at home (perhaps owing to the greater rotational speed given its relative distance to the equator), what I have experienced since Sunday is nothing short of Einsteinian. Yes, Sunday, aka Halloween everywhere except here. Time warp related? I don’t know. It did seem, however, to drag on longer than your average slow Sunday. My first clue, though I didn’t know it at the time. Monday, I headed back to Hania, thinking I’d take the last highspeed off the island to Athens, and collect my iPod to boot.
I caught the bus Monday, noticing that the wrong time was on the ticket, but having no problems on the bus whatsoever, and I was back in Hania. Nikos was meeting me later that day, so I walked around Hania one last time, noticing that the stores were closing at 3:30. I thought that Niko had said 2:30 was when they closed, but maybe not. I had, incidentally, left my bag at the KTEL (bus station) so I wouldn't have to haul it around with me. Niko met me while I was having lunch, then we took off for another cafe up on the hill overlooking Hania. We went on his bike, and man was it cold. But the cafe was worth it, a very nice view and as it was by now nearing the end of the day, a great view of the sunset before we took off, though not without a couple really delicious desserts. A little alliteration never hurt anyone.
We traded his bike in for the car, stopped at his place for a bit (I thought of my mom or Aunt Joeanne in their house - I counted some 40 flies on the ceiling). His mom Raided them, however, and they soon started breakdancing on the floor, one by one. Then we pointed the car in the direction of the KTEL and grabbed my bags. They closed at 8:30, and the clock was ticking. Not to mention my ferry left at 9:00. We got there a little after 8:00 and there was a massive lineup because the attendant was unloading a bus. I discovered I had thrown out my papers saying that it was MY bag in there, falling apart, on shelf 14. This made me very nervous as I remembered the whole debit card debacle at Eurobank, and I was very tempted to hop the counter and get my bag while the guy was gone, especially since I was waiting in line for 15 mins and they seemed to go all too slowly and quickly at once. If I went at closing time to try to get my bag without papers, it would be too easy for them to tell me to come back tomorrow when someone else could deal with it.
However, I resisted the temptation as I stood there nervously for far too long, though it did play on my nerves quite a bit. Finally the guy arrived at 8:20 and couldn't care less that I'd lost my ticket. Whew. Back in the car, we drove to the port at Souda, arriving at about 8:35, with 25 minutes to spare. I didn't have a cabin, just a deck seat, so I'd wanted to arrive a little earlier to get a good one (maybe missing a neighbouring armrest or with lots of floor space or something), but at least I was getting to the ferry with my bags. That said, for a day after the long weekend when all the cabins were sold and the ferry itself was supposed to be near full, there weren't that many people boarded when I got on. So I got a decent seat, though I should say for future reference that if you're travelling deck class, Minoan Lines are the way to go, not Anek lines, even if they're 5 Euro less. The Pullman seats, contrary to their name, require no pulling whatsoever to recline or sit up, making any attempts to sleep difficult as it shifted anytime I did.
I got a Mythos from the bar to help my cause and pulled out my book, The Cretan Runner, a first-person retelling of Crete's famed resistance to the Germans in World War 2, a very good story. I was hoping that, since I'd arrived with only 25 minutes to spare, we'd soon be under way and there's still be many seats available. 9:00 came, and then 9:10, 9:12, seats filling more and more, 9:20, and so on, until 10:00, when the ferry finally left. "An hour late," I thought, "ahhhh, Greece." Maybe this meaned I would be getting in an hour later to Athens, at 6 AM instead of 5 AM. So there was a bit of good news even though the deck had filled up quite a bit in that extra hour.
I was unable to sleep for more than 10-15 minutes. My eyes did grow heavy, I did feel tired, but to no avail. At one point, when one of the guys sitting closest to me abandoned his chair for a spot on the floor (he had his sleeping bag which I had stupidly left behind thinking I'd have no need for it) I was desperate enough to try the same. I took off my 'jacket' crumpled it in a ball on the floor and tried to sleep, but it wasn't quite comfortable or clean enough for me to try longer than 10 minutes before I gave up on sleep altogether. So I cranked the iPod, read my book, and we pulled into Athens at 6 AM on the nose. Exactly one hour late. At least they got that part right.
I took the metro to Omonia and wandered down the street to Agious Constantinos, where the bus takes people so inclined to the Bus Terminal. I got there at about 6:30, where a man who, well, let's just say had trouble speaking, grunted at me, making hand motions like a "T" for timeout, "10 & 2" for driving, and "Horizontal scrub" for no, I assume, tried to tell me something. Perhaps the busses were on strike, perhaps he was not quite all there, I didn't know. There were plenty of others standing around too. I asked one man, who said the bus would come at 7. I'd been waiting for 15 minutes and that was a long time to continue to wait, but I tried. The next 15 minutes went very slowly, punctuated by people smarter than me getting into cabs and leaving me wondering what was really going on. 7:00 came and went, then 7:05, and finally 7:10 before I decided and managed to successfully hail a cab where I was joined by an old couple. For only 3 Euros, I was at the bus station.
When I got my ticket for Tripoli, I was told that there was one leaving in three minutes. I looked at my watch. 7:30. Sure. I grabbed the ticket and ran to the bus, but looking at my ticket as I ran, I noticed it said 6:30. Hmm. I didn't have time to go back and tell the ticket agent she'd made a mistake, so I hoped the ticket collector wouldn't say anything. They didn't. I made the bus and I even had time to run to the WC quickly. As you may have guessed, however, my suspicions had long been raised about all this time tomfoolery, and I started to wonder if, maybe, there had been a time change. Living in Saskatchewan, you see, I've never experienced one. How would I know?
My fears were allayed only slightly when the clock on the bus matched my watch. My cell phone, which I thought was supposed to sync with the system automatically, also matched my watch. Still, something funny was going on. I managed about an hour of sleep, finally, on the bus. The road to Tripoli is quite different in the fall/winter, greener. More pretty than I remembered. Maybe that's just because my eyes were fuzzy. We finally did arrive in Tripoli, where we passed an outdoor clock on one of those farmacy green crosses proclaiming the time to be an hour earlier than and of my various time pieces indicated (had I checked my iPod, I would've got the correct time). I got a taxi and asked him what time it was, and sure enough, I had experienced the time warp. Which, if one looks back on this story now, is quite obvious and certainly didn't make the trip to Tripoli very easy.
I thought my time warp story ended there, but it didn't. As it is now Saturday (where did the week go?) I realize that I have only 10 days left in Greece before I board a plane to Belfast. If this isn't a time warp, I don't know what is. As for the rest of the week, it's been more of the usual Tripoli stuff. I did manage a few hours of sleep on Tuesday before the other Dean came and then Dean, Kelly, Sophia, and I went out for coffee. We also ran some more errands the next day and I've been looking for a tailor or outfitter to repair my backpack which would be really handy before I depart for Belfast. I'll probably spend a few days in the horio, since I haven't really seen much of Uncle Ted, Aunt Marina, Maria, Kosta, or any of their kids. I've also been continuing my Greek studies here to pass some time during the days when everyone is working. I imagine my next update will probably come to you right before I leave Greece. The Toronto cousins leave this Monday, too, so I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of them and/or hitting the town this weekend. Now, I'm off to fight the warp. Wish me luck.
So, another week has gone by. I'd like to report that I'm now completely fluent in Greek, at times even correcting other native speakers' grammar. I'd like to, but of course I can't. However, I now know when to use things like 'va' (pron: na) in a sentence, put verbs into the future tense, and play a new backgammon game called asodio. It was a good week in school in any case, and my class officially ends tomorrow, after which I have a few private lessons to make up for the fact that I started a little late in the week.
For the week itself, there's not much else to say. Aside from my Grecian studies, I've gone out for coffee - by which I mean various flavour of hot chocolate - a LOT. Especially compared to my relatively cafe-free life back home. We (my teacher and I) play a lot of tavli, and as I mentioned, I've learned a new game or two. We also went to a cafe one night with a piano, and since it was dead (there were three other tables in the whole place, and it seats between 100-200 people), and of course I had to play a little bit. I also have been out for a movie once or twice in my weeks here, having now seen 40 Year Old Virgin (not that good) and Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (not that bad). I'm excited about this new Zorro I see is supposed to be coming out, I've certainly seen the old one enough times.
The weekend came, however, and I decided whatever else happened I wanted to get out of Hania for it and go somewhere. Since I probably wouldn't have another chance to see my cousins in Mohos, well, you already knew I headed there from the title. I rented a car Friday after class, checked some flight information here about getting to London (I've ruled out Egypt and will probably head to Ireland and then England/Wales a few weeks before hopping the plane home), and took off for Mohos.
It's about a three hour drive, but I had a bunch of new Greek music courtesy of my cousins up north to keep me company, so it went pretty quickly. Not to mention some beautiful night views, though I didn't take this picture until the next day. Incidentally, I'd like to buy some CDs here, and probably will buy one or maybe two, but they're _20_ Euros! That's almost $40 CDN. Or, to put it in a more universal currency, highway robbery. In any case, I have a bunch of music that I think my sisters (and hopefully dad) will like too. But once again, I digress. I got to Mohos and ate dinner with Maria and Ari, and then Maria stayed up with me and we chatted and played some more Tavli while watching who-knows-what movie with you-know-who and that Greek actor, Then Theimame. Oh, actually, I do remember, it's the one where Sean Penn is an autistic father fighting to raise his child. Pretty good actually, though now that I remember it, I don't think Then made an appearance...
It gets pretty chilly up in the mountains at night, and I was surprised again at the Greek weather. The next day, we went to watch Mohos play Iraklion, apparently the number one and two ranked teams in the league, and the game was in Mohos. The field is awesome, carved right into the mountain with a great view backing it from the stands. The game was not even close, and the home team took the game 5-0, but it was still entertaining, if only for the new Greek I was learning from agitated spectators. Not the sort of stuff you see written on a blackboard.
I mentioned the cold, but midday, it was quite hot. I was wearing a sweater because the house was still cold, but on the field it must've been 28 Celsius. Beautiful! I did eventually decide that I should get some photos of the game just for fun, since the talent was skewed a little in one direction, and I wandered up to where some of the hardcore fans were sitting... on the old cliff that had been carved long before the new astroturf had been put down, not to mention the two-year old stands. It was definitely a soccer game in Greece, looking down on the field from the mountain amidst rocks, shrubs, and various degrees of evidence that goats grazed these same shrubs. That night we went down to Stalida, we were going to have dinner with Mina and Maria, but they had company they couldn't get rid of, so it turned out to be us. It was a nice dinner, and a beautiful night to drive back up - the moon was on the water and the lights of the coastal towns were lit brightly - so I got the photo which I'd wanted the prior night. My picture didn't turn out too well, but it's hard to snap a quick photo when you're sitting in a truck on a narrow road in the middle of the night. We tried, darn it!
Today, Sunday, I went down to the cafeneio with Ari and Yanni (their son) and sat there with them for awhile, and at one point, without asking, the priest took off in Ari's truck which didn't even make Ari blink and I thought it was amusing to just see him drive off. He was back very shortly after, and then we headed home, and Ari came down with me to pick some pomegranates off the tree to eat. Then we all sat around peeling them, and the priest came by again and stayed for awhile. Very nice guy, but I guess you'd expect that...
I had to get going at some point, even though I was unsuccessful at removing the virus from Maria's computer (with the internet connection completely disabled, no Windows disc, and everything in Greek, it was a long shot from the get go, but I really did try), so I said my goodbyes and left after lunch and the Karate Kid (man, I love that movie!).
Now I'm back in Hania, I have a week or less of class left, and then I'm probably heading back to Tripolis to visit and pick olives or whatever else but mostly to see the family before I hit the skies. Speaking of family, if someone doesn't mind telling Aunt Soula, I have pictures of everyone over here up for her.
Oh, hello there! I didn't see you come in. It's been a long time and I'm pleased to report that though my internet presence is perhaps waning as I become busier (and ironically have less and less of interest to report) my offline persona is doing just great. I had a bit of a thinkathon and decided that since my primary reason for coming to Greece this year was to learn some more Greek (well, there was no 'some more' in the original mission statement but that might've been a little too ambitious) I should go with the school route. Looking into schools, it seems there are three places where one can educate themselves in a short time whilst here: Thessaloniki, Athens, and Hania. You may recall my fervent dislike of Athens and my recent experiences in Thessaloniki or you may not, but in any case, the decision was clear. Hania. I would be on an island, in a beautiful city, and learning Greek. Case closed. Work, if I could find it, great. If not, well, at least I was doing something productive.
That decision made, I talked to the two schools there and got things as sorted as possible from Tripolis. Then I discovered that my cousin, Dean Katsiris, who lives in Toronto and I've never met, was in the neighbourhood, and Uncle Ted and Kosta came in for dinner with him, the girls, Theodore and Maria, and myself. It was a nice dinner at the Chalet not far from the girls' place. Then, we hit the town. Very interesting to meet Dean, he reminds me a lot of my other cousin, Dean. Katsiris. In BC. That one. Actually, I suspected his existence about a year ago, when I discovered upon googling my name in a poll for Stupidest Person on Earth (see poll and results) and traced the name of the person who put my name up to Toronto. Since I don't know anyone in Toronto, I suspected there must either be a Dean Katsiris there or else one of my other cousins had a runin. In any case, George Bush was already in an overwhelming lead and I decided that while I was in the running he was not going to steal another election, so I asked some friends and well wishers to vote for me and the rest, as they say, is history. This is THAT Dean Katsiris.
Anyway, it was a little early, admittedly, so we went out to a cafe-bar and sat having a few drinks and watching Greece lose out to Denmark on its chance to get into the World Cup this year. Sofia AKA "Kinito Girl" came by and said she'd come out with us later, and somewhere in the evening, Lee's Yanni and a couple that I'd met once before joined us. We finally went out and went to the club where John & I had had such a great time when he was here. The owner seems to really love Niki (and who could blame him) and so we again got a reserved table given to us. Which we used for a spell until a few Thanos Petrelis songs (or maybe it was Polu Kala Lername) came on and then we danced.
The dancing was in full gear, the platters were spinning as were the lights, as they tend to do here, when ours snapped off. It was a bit of a shock to have the light come crashing down on the table, as you may have guessed from this photo which I coincidentally snapped just as it happened. Kelly's reaction = priceless. Anyway, the moral of the story is we had a great time. As always, Tripolis was great. I got to spend a little more time with the kids this time, I babysat Theo & Maria one afternoon (Theo & I finished the girls' 1000 piece puzzle and Maria & I watched Monsters Inc) and I also took Theo out for a game of Counterstrike which I think he enjoyed. And of course, more coffees with Kelly (I won't mention the tavli, don't worry Kelly), more Pacino movies and late night chats with Niki, and introducing Lee to Strongbad emails and going visiting with her and her friends. Not to mention dinners with Diane & George, another stay in the Horio, and all the other day to day stuff that, well, I did say "not to mention".
After that Sat night I caught a couple hours of sleep and the bus to Athens, then the 2:00 ferry to Hania from Pireaus, which made it there by around 7:00. After a bus ride from Souda to Hania, Siba & friends picked me up and drove me to where I'd be staying in Stalos, which was quite nice of them. Stalos, and particularly Pano Stalos, is a nice quiet area about 10 mins from Hania and quite well connected by overflowing busses. Though I'm not in any way a morning person, there is something nice about waking up early, walking down to the bus past vineyards and looking down at the sea and the foggy mountains, hopping on a bus, and then walking from the station to the schools to get stuff done. Even on a Monday morning.
It took a few days and some tests at both schools to see what my options were, but by Wednesday I was sitting in class with two fellow students, both retired, very nice people. Carlos is blind, or nearly I think, and that made things a little interesting, and Carrie is just an interesting woman in her own right. So interesting classes. I definitely am learning things and think that my own Greek school could've been so much better if only the teachers had at least used English to explain what we were doing and what things meant to a bunch of 6 year olds who didn't know how to answer the question "What is your name" and were supposed to be learning about passive/active voice, and so on. You know, that and if we weren't a bunch of 6 year olds who were ripped from our Saturday morning cartoons for four hours of hell that really put a lot of effort into NOT learning any more than necessary in that place.
So the school is good, and I've moved into Hania proper now with a little place that's right by the old harbour and amid the hubbub which I also like. The place itself isn't so great, but a very nice owner and a shower that consists, as many do in Europe, of a faucet dripping onto the bathroom floor. Mmm... cleansing. I've also befriended a few locals that are getting used to seeing my face. There's a cafe where I go a few times a week for a nice Greek salad and Coke (in a glass bottle) after school where I've gotten to know the owners and just this afternoon I went to a nearby beach with the owner's son. It's a nice place with an island that's swimming distance away even for this out of shape specimen, with some small and natural 1-2 m high 'cliffs' perfect for diving.
Also through Siba I've met some Germans working at the NATO base here, and I may go see a missle firing just for something different. OK, and because I'm kind of a geek, it's true. They're all very nice, and we've been over to Enrico's place (I know, doesn't sound German to me either) to watch movies and this past weekend we all went out to a bar in Platanias called the Rock Club or something like that. They have drums behind the bar which, on first glance, seems a neat idea, and then one of the workers starts drumming along to one of the songs and inserting really poorly timed fills (as in, finishing a whole BEAT too late) and then it gets annoying really fast. There was also a little bar dancing which I have some photos of but I'm afraid the girls got a little too out of hand for me to publically post those photos, put it that way.
Anyway, that's in no means comprehensive, but I think it's enough. I really like Hania a lot and am happy I came down here. There've been good moments and bad, as with anywhere (like, for example, Eurobank (those #$%*()#$%#(*!'s) holding my card hostage, or arguments about the meaning of 'skase') but it's really pretty, nice, and still lively. I have another week or two of study and then I may head to Rhodes or Egypt or something (after visiting my family in Crete a little more) before heading back to Tripolis and then back home, with a stopover in the UK first. Oh yes, that's right, I should be coming home Dec. 5. So you will soon be free of the blog. Soon. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit in a cafe in the harbour and get some homework done...
Last time on: Life of I. John had gone home, Dean was alone in Athens, and a baptism was imminent. Almost all of that has now changed. Yes, John is still at home, or at least in Saskatchewan, but Dean is now with his cousins in Tripolis once again and the baptism (as well as a wedding) are no longer imminent. The baptism, for my cousin's son, George, was nice. I somehow made my way by foot to St. Nicolas church (in the Koukaki area of Athens) and managed to have a much less traumatic experience than George, Diane, Niki, Lee, and Kelly, who hiked from the other side of the acropolis and were accosted less than delightfully in the markets (nothing serious, of course, or I wouldn't be so flippant). Little George did well, hardly crying at all until he was covered in oil, and who could blame him?
It was raining, so the day Trippers (aka the Tripolis Five aka the only other guests at the thing that I knew) skipped out on the reception, leaving me alone though Gus & Christina (& her father) made sure I wasn't abandoned. The reception was quite nice actually, good dinner, I met a guy named Gregory who'd been to Saskatoon and spoke some English, and his wife who hadn't and didn't but humoured my 'interprative Greek' very patiently. They invited me to dinner at their home on Saturday, though I was unable to attend, but very nice of them nonetheless. Then the Greek dancing started up and even little George was getting in on it, good times.
That night also happened to be the night of the European finals in basketball, pitting Greece against Germany. I didn't get to watch the game aside from the final minutes, where Greece confirmed its victory and all hell broke loose in Athens. It was wild. The streets went from empty as we left the hall to full of honking and yelling that could be heard across the city. Gus dropped me off at my hostel, and I quickly dropped off my valuables (except the camera) and grabbed the last metro train to Omonia. We had a bit of an adventure stopping in Syntagma Square, and I say "we" because I was joined there by hundreds of revellers heading to Omonia, where the party was. The train didn't move for five minutes, so we all got out, drums, airhorns, and all, and danced and chanted in the subway until the train was ready.
Omonia itself was crazy when I arrived, but got progressively crazier VERY quickly. I've never EVER seen so many people in one place, cheering and singing and I myself probably sung the Greek national anthem 10 times (one of the few cheers I actually knew beforehand). People had scaled the six storey high public art piece in the square, fireworks were being lit off, flares waved proudly along with flags, banners, and anything that looked remotely patriotic, firecrackers were exploding at peoples' feet, and in all directions car horns could just be made out over the roar of quiet moments. After an hour or two or that, however, it got a little tiring, so I walked back to my hostel (quite a distance) and the interesting part is that almost ALL THE WAY BACK it was lined with cars deadlocked on the road, filled with people singing and waving flags and honking. Unbelievable.
I left the next day to visit my family a little more extensively in Tripolis and the village and have pretty much been doing that since. I spent a night in the horio but it's a little different now that it's not summer and the girls are in the city. That said, Lee was there, I got to spend some time with Maria and her kids, finally see Kosta, and of course with Uncle Ted and Aunt Marina. Stephania has definitely earned her nickname, Tsunami, and little Marina (who just celbrated her first month here) is tiny and cute. As for Tripolis, well, I've gone out a few times with the girls, usually to hang out in the cafes Greek style (which means there's usually a small dose of backgammon involved - current score is Dean: 5, Kelly: 1 though I'm confident I'll lose that soon) and a lot of socialising. I regret not taking John shopping here, there are a lot of cool stores that I didn't see in Athens.
I also went on a grocery shopping binge with Kelly, it really is amazing how quickly food disappears around here! I tried to make my dad's famous baked apples, but I suppose I discovered there's a reason they're my dad's and a reason they're famous. I failed miserably. Well, they tasted OK, to be fair, but they weren't quite right in a lot of ways. Niki and I have been having a Pacino-athon of sorts, Theodore & I managed to finish a puzzle the girls had sitting under their couch for over a year (I'm told Larissa did much the same thing when she was here), and basically, I've just been hanging out with everyone. And I should also do my customary book recommendation for the week: John le Carre's Absolute Friends. But good things must surely end, and I'm off next week to figure out what I'm doing with my remaining couple months in Greece. I'm leaning increasingly towards language lessons, since my reason for coming to Greece was, in fact, to learn Greek and not get some small-time job, but that small-time job is also becoming a necessity as my bank account spirals ever closer to zero, so we'll see. Maybe I can do both somehow. We will see.
One other item of note was that I found out my Uncle Ted was Koubarro (godfather, of sorts) at a wedding and so this past Saturday we went up for it. It was easily the latest wedding I've ever been to (and could ever hope to attend). The wedding started at 8:30 before accounting for Greek time and the fact that the wedding before was also on Greek time, so we didn't really get things going until 9:30. The reception we arrived at just past 11 PM and we didn't get to eat dinner until after midnight. Not often you attend a wedding one day and the reception the next (with bride and groom still in full gear). Unfortunately, as a result of this lateness, the rain (on which our drivers are woefully over-cautious), and even by my standards an hour and a half trip, coupled with the kids getting sleepy and/or even falling asleep, we pretty much ate dinner (which was quite good!) and ran. It was a nice wedding, though, and even if we didn't get to party it up after, I'm still glad we went.
So that's where I am now. I'll be in Tripolis for another day or two before setting off for who knows where. I have a line on a job in Athens working in a hostel (a guy I met in Ios), I saw a lot of help wanted signs when I was in Ios last, I have a line on a language school in Crete (and a friend who's offered me a place to sleep if I do), as well as another friend travelling through the islands for a week or so. So the options are definitely on the table and I will probably investigate all of them.
After a final day of what can only be referred to as slothenly delight in Tripolis, John & I departed for Athens, Pireaus, and our ferry to Ios. We went all the way to the airport to try to change his tickets (this is a big undertaking I assure you) only to discover the flights were full, or at least the woman at the Alitalia counter had 5 minutes until the end of her shift and was trying to get rid of us. So John was unable to change his flights and less than two weeks were left on the clock. We got on the overnight ferry to Ios and the adventure began.
We arrived before the sun in Ios, though it was close behind. I'd called ahead to Francesco's, a hostel I'd heard lots of good things about, and they were supposed to have a van waiting for us. They didn't. A guy from another hotel was there and friends with them so he took us. But we got to the hostel and the reception was closed. Since the other guy was so nice to us, and the price was about the same - 12 euro (plus we had our own room instead of a dorm and also a swimming pool). So we walked the direction we thought it was. Which led us past a woman insisting we not walk there and that it was a different direction, which then led us up to the top of the landmark hill of Ios. It was a little early for such a hike, but it gave us a great view of the town not to mention the sunrise, and also allowed us to spot the place we were looking for - Sunrise Hotel.
We met Julio and his sister Pamela from Mexico there again, we'd met them in the van from the harbour earlier, and John & I spent some time by the pool before I took off with them to Milopotas beach on their ATV. John just wanted a day by the pool so that worked out well. The beach was quiet, but there was a cool campsite (Far Out) where I would probably stay next time with lots of activities, and anyway it was quite a nice beach. We hit the town that night after some time in the hotel bar, which was quite cheap and a good time. Ios is definitely the party island it's reputed to be. There were a couple girls that John & I had to make efforts to extricate ourselves from, not as easy as it sounds, but there were no high speed chases involved. This time.
The next day I rented an ATV to explore the island and took John along for the ride. It was wholly underpowered (do NOT rent 50cc's for more than one person, ever) and took too long to get anywhere, but we made it somehow to Agios Nikolaus beach and did get to see a bit more of the island. Then we went to Harmony and had some Chimis (Clayton still makes the best ones) though we didn't really use the hammocks that make the place famous. We did, however, begin what would become a rather lively tournament of Backgammon (Tavli in Greek) that would carry through the islands and back to the mainland. I'm proud to say I won Ios. We went out again that night with a bunch of guys we met and had a great time once again.
We took the afternoon ferry to Santorini, spending the time up until then at the hotel pool. Sid, a guy we'd met the night prior, was there and we met a bunch of other people, but because I didn't give them my cell number with the Greek country code in front of it (30) we didn't cross paths with them again. Getting into the harbour, we were looking for Hostel Anna but unable to find it, however, the room renters were so hungry for full rooms that we were able to bargain them down to BELOW the cost for a bed in the hostel. For 6 Euro a night we had a private room with a pool and let me say, it was pretty sweet. We rented a car for 30 Euro and pretty much covered the entire island in our 2 night-3 day stay. We drove to Oia and had dinner and were heading to Fira when I realized I had again forgotten my glasses on the restaurant table. We turned around and got them but by then we decided to go to the room - we'd done more than enough partying in Ios and could use a break.
The next day we went to the famed black beach of Perissa and then went wine tasting at Boutari in Megalohori. We drove up to Pirgos on the mountain, which was covered in cloud at the top, and then went to Fira for dinner. John also picked up a backgammon set, and had a beer in a hammock overlooking the caldera (finally I got to have beer in a hammock!). We were going to go out in Fira, but it seemed largely dead and also old, though we knew it was still early. We thought we'd head down to Perissa and maybe find a better nightlife, but there was not much to be seen there either. We sat at a place called the Beach Bar and had another beer, but left shortly after to begin the battle for Santorini. John, it turns out, is very lucky on the old dice, and managed to come out on top despite my superior tactics. So we each had an island a piece. We left for Crete the next day, but we took a cruise in the morning to the volcanic centre of Santorini and the so called hot springs there, and also stopped at the red sand beach. All very nice, I was glad we were able to squeeze that in.
The hydrofoil got us to Irakleio, Crete in record time, and we took a cab to a nearby rental agency that was still open, and got a cheap car for our five days in Crete. 25 Euro, though I would at times lament its desperate lack of power. I had called my cousin Maria to see when it would be convenient for us to drop in, and she said tomorrow, so we went west first. We drove to Stalida and were unable to find a room, and doubled back to Hersonnisos still unable to find a hostel or room or place to stay. I should mention that by the time this was happening, it was around midnight, and we were tired having had a long day already. Eventually, we drove back to Irakleio and tried unsuccessfully for a LONG time to find the hostel listed - it turned out the road was under construction and was not an easy find even if it hadn't been. But, by the time we found it, reception was closed. It was 2 AM. In fact, everywhere was closed or full and both John & I were getting tired and cranky. So, we pulled the car into a place that looked decent enough to park, reclined the seats, and spent the night in our Renault. So the car, doubling as a hotel, was a great deal after all, if not the most comfortable sleep I've ever had.
After an hour in the Minoan ruins of Knossos, we spent the next day on the beach at Hersonnisos, a fun beach with lots of water sports (I tried the flying wing and it was great!) and young people. One of the better beaches we went to. Then we went up to visit Maria and Ari in Mohos and she had already included us in dinner plans. It had been about 8 years since I'd seen her, so it was good to catch up. They also insisted that we stay with them, after a terrific batch of Greek ribs, and we happily albeit reluctantly gave in. Ari, John and I went to town for a bit and sat in the caffeneio, and Maria & I watched the Ring 2 and played a little tavli, in which she taught me a few new things sure to aid me in claiming Crete for myself in our backgammon tournament. It really was a great day and I'm so happy we were able to spend some time with them.
The next morning we had to get underway, and we drove down to see Stathi and Irini, who were exactly as I remember them. It's funny how you don't realize sometimes how much you missed someone until you see them again. Such warm people. Eventually, though, we had to say goodbye, and took off for Hania. Somewhere en route we stopped at a small town to check out a fountain and had some rabbit for dinner. We got a room for three nights at 10 Euros and booked a hiking excursion to Samaria gorge (the longest gorge in Europe) leaving at 6 AM the next morning. So I grabbed a glass of wine to help me fall asleep and so ended another day in Crete. I also started listening to Good To Great, an audio book Dan gave me about what separates truly iconic and excellent companies from just good ones, and I found it to be really interesting. The author, Jim Collins, makes some of the worst analogies ever, often times even admitting to the stupidity of the analogy after having spent ten minutes making it, but this serves as entertainment between points of enlightenment, and it was definitely a worthwhile listen. We also played a little backgammon, at the end of which the score was 4-2 in favour of me.
5 AM came all to early but it always does. We got on the bus to Samaria and hiked the 13km rather quickly. We were supposed to meet at the Kri Kri cafe at the other end of the gorge at 4:30 and we were there by 12:30. Which took its toll on our knees and John's ankle, but it was beautiful and I'd do it again in a second. It begins with a rather steep descent and then a walk along the creek at the bottom of the gorge and also along a dried up riverbed that probably is just roaring in the spring. We had a nice salad and some greens, also yogurt and honey, and waited. Then we tired of waiting and went to the beach to wait. Finally, we left, ferried over to another town, and took the bus back to Hania. Our tour guide, Siba, was really cool and came back and chatted with us for a while. We found out she was going to the same beach that we were the next day, Elafonisos, and we exchanged numbers and decided to meet there.
As always, we took the slow, scenic route to the beach but made it there eventually, met up with Siba, and hung out. The beach really is as beautiful as it is purported to be, surrounded by reefs, with lots of little ponds and narrow sand bars connecting many separate and distinct beaches and little bits of pink sand washing up in the surf. Siba's tour left at three, but we joked that she'd see a yellow blur anyway and we'd beat her back to town. We stayed until five, but sure enough, driving back the proper way (she told us the road to take) we did pass her bus. We were going to meet her that night, but she wasn't feeling great, so we decided instead to go travelling with her the next day on her day off. John & I grabbed some seafood for his (and maybe my) last night on an island, he had swordfish and I had squid. We walked around the old Venetian quarter for a while and checked a club or two but there wasn't much going on. Again, a little more backgammon in which I won two more games, bringing it up to 6-2 and then John completely came back, at one point skunking me by rolling an impossible double-five after calculating that that was the only roll that would get him to have a piece on my lonely home row piece, and wound up victorious in Crete. It was a tough loss to swallow.
The time sure flew. Our last day on Crete we picked up Siba at her place, drove to Kourna lake, spent some time there, and then went to Rethymno where she showed us around and just hung out. We had a nice dinner, graciously bought by Johnny boy (though it wasn't really fair because I had my money out first!), strolled around the old town, and had to say goodbye to Siba who took the bus back to Hania as we drove to Irakleio to catch our ferry. She was a lot of fun and a great girl to hang around with, both John & I felt lucky to have met her.
And so my travels with John ended. The ferry was nice and had enough empty seats that both John & I were able to sprawl out across four of them and sleep soundly. We did a lot of shopping the next day near Syntagma and Monastiraki, and now I have a new pair of jeans, a couple shirts, and some new cologne that I bought on the street for 5 Euro (Armani's Night). We went out the last night, after, of course, some more backgammon in which I managed to skunk him and won myself the mainland 3-2, bringing our total properties to be tied. Then he & I walked to his bus, said goodbye, and I can only assume/hope he is now on a plane headed for Canada and probably fast asleep. Tomorrow, I have a christening to attend here in Athens and I'll probably spend a little more time with the family in Tripolis, and then it's time to look for a job. Judging by my initial inquiries, it looks like it'll be quite a feat to actually find one. Wish me luck!
With one day trip to the Diros caves out of the way and only three days left to cover the Pelops and also get up to Delphi, we had to set sail on our three day Odyssey the next morning. It was to be a long trip back to Ithac... err... Argos to return to our beloved Penelop... err... our friendly rental car guy Tasos, but we had our maps and were ready to get underway. We didn't realize that a mob of scooters (some might call them suitors) were at that very moment tearing across Argos taking advantage of our absence. In a rather stretched way, our Odyssey was not so different than another undertaken a by a much more famous Greek.
We took off from Tripoli after some rice pudding, a stop at the bank for supplies, and some food in our bellies. Filled with the spirit of adventure, we took off on the old highway for Olympia. The road was winding, like Poseidon himself (who has been promoted and now manages land as well as sea travel) was bent against our travel, and the 100 or so kilometres stretched hours.
We stopped in Orhomenos because there was a sign saying there were some ruins and drove up the mountain to find an old theatre on the mountaintop. It was nice because we could actually touch and use the ruins and had them to ourselves with nobody blowing piercing whistles at John. Plus the view from there was really nice, it was like looking down from Greece and seeing Saskatchewan, farmland spread all over the valley. Hungry, we stopped in beautiful Levini and were rewarded with some nice lamb and delicious greens. We also passed a really impressive village called Langadia clinging to the side of the mountain (which I remember from prior travels) and stopped for some photos again.
Then, we travelled through a forest before arriving in Ancient Olympia. I think it was better set up for tourists since my last visit, probably for the Olympics, and I actually am glad I saw it again. Having paid our respects to Zeus and with Athena at our back (after all, we spent a night with her when John arrived), we overcame Poseidon and made it to Pyrgos for some food and Greek pastries in the main plateia. It was actually a nice city, what we saw of it. If nothing else, some food definitely hit the spot... even if it was Goody's (the Greek McDonalds, basically).
Then, off to Patra. We got down to the port and looked for a place to stay, finally finding a Pension that my Lonely Planet mentioned. However, they were complete jerks, which John assures me is a nice word for them. After a battle with the cycloptic woman at the till, from which we emerged victorious by asking if we could see the room that we were to pay 30 Euro for in low season, being told no, we can't, and walking out, we heard a strange music in the air (Calypso?). Walking towards it, we found a street wall-to-wall with people, and a Hotel Galaxy beckoning to us. We payed 10 Euro more to stay there, but we had been seduced by its siren song and great location, so we grabbed a room and were convinced to move our car from out of a back alley. The seductress convinced us to move our car in closer and closer until finally it was shipwrecked in a spot right down the street with the ruins of several other cars to keep it company. But strangely, we felt quite safe with our choice of parking spot.
Long hours of our journey (almost 8) were spent at that hotel, until finally we were able to escape the next morning at 11:00. To discover, as we attempted to flee, driving down the street, that there was a ticket on our window and our license plate holder on the windshield. A quick pullover revealed that we had been stripped of our plates and so we went to battle with the locust-like police. First, we stopped at a travel agency/tourist info place/oracle to gather information. It turns out that:
a) The fine was going to be 65 Euro. b) Our adversaries had divided and we must first meet them in the post office (where we would pay the hefty cost of battle) and then at the police station where we would, the oracle prophesised, emerge victorious after some great and even more painful battle and a bit of misdirection.
As always, the oracle was correct. We made it to the post office, waited in line a long time, and finally paid our 65 Euro. That, incidentally, is a HEFTY cost for a parking ticket in a place where tonnes of people were parked anyway. Determined to keep our spirits up, we attempted to joke about the ordeal and even took photos. The moral boost saved the day and we
