It's all Greek to me...

On Saturday evening after class, I made my final decision about my plans for the Bayram holiday. In the week leading up to that, I had gone through a number of options including, but not limited to: Fethiye with my flatmate, Bodrum and Rhodes, Skiing in Bulgaria with a gym friend, Plovdiv, Bulgaria with Georgina, visiting Violetta in Paris, and going somewhere, finding a cheap hotel, and chilling for a couple of days. Because of the 4.5 day bayram holiday (known to most people as Eid), which is celebrated with a ritual sacrifice of a sheep, or a cow, or some animal, and lots of eating and family get-togethers, I really didn't want to stay in Istanbul. I have nothing against holidays. However, during Kurban Bayram, I had been invited to quite a number of students' houses. I know from my experience back in 1991 that being at someone's house during Bayram means that you are a guest of honour when they serve the freshly slaughtered and prepared meat, the choicest part being the (ugh) liver, and to turn it down makes everyone sad, and is nearly impossible anyway. Having been invited by neighbours, students, people from the gym, etc, I realised the only excuse that worked was that I wouldn't be in Istanbul. That said, I had to make it so. I made my final decision and decided to go to Alexandroupoli. It's a small town near the Greece/Turkey border, on the Mediterranean. Cheap hotels aplenty (seaside towns in January are generally not in high season), and a short, cheap bus trip made it the ideal destination. Turks have trouble getting visas to leave the country, so I figured it wouldn't be crowded with Turks doing some Bayram travelling. So after class on Saturday, I headed down to the bus company to buy a ticket. All the buses were full. There was one on Wednesday, but since I was planning to be back by Friday morning at the latest (to meet with a Baha'i coming from Haifa to Istanbul), that wasn't an option. I hopped on a ferry and went over to the train station at Sirkeci to try for a train ticket.

Sirkeci Train station is the historical home of the Orient Express. You can read about it in books and stuff. It was also the first place I set foot in Istanbul back on August 12, 1990. I found out from the enthusiastic guy at the information desk that tickets were available, and I wouldn't be able to get the youth discount because I was over 27. Too bad. I went and got the ticket, but the ticket guy didn't ask my age, and I guess I look like I'm 26 or younger because I got the discount! Woo hoo :o))))

Anyway, at 7 yesterday morning I headed to Sirkeci to catch my train.

It was quite comfortable, and nice. The train was divided into booth-like compartments, with 6 comfortable, reclining seats in each. I was in one with a guy named Dogan, who had just come back from Israel. He had sat next to an Australian Baha'i 3 days before coming from Tel Aviv to Istanbul, and here he was in a train compartment with another! He had been thinking about it a lot since meeting her and had some questions to ask, which was pretty interesting. We chatted for a couple of hours, until we reached some place in the middle of nowhere, and 3 more people joined the compartment.

About 4 hours into the trip, what is suppposed to happen is that the last car of the train is attached to another engine and gets taken over the border. Up until then, basically we are on the local train to Edirne, so there are lots of stops. Lots. After the border crossing, the train gets attached to a local train to Alexandroupoli, and that ride takes an hour. I was expecting to be there at about 2 in the afternoon.

What actually happened is that they disconnected us from the local train, as they were supposed to. The rest of the cars headed back to Istanbul. They then told use that the bridge up ahead was flooded and we would be unable to cross. We were given 2 options. We could sit in the train and wait for 2 hours, and the next local train would take us back to Istanbul, where we would be able to come again the next day ( i.e. I left home at 7 in the morning, would get back home at about 8 at night, and would have to leave home again the next morning at 7 to do it all over) - I think NOT! The other option was to wait about 20 minutes, and the train company had arranged for a bus which would take us an hour south to the next border crossing. The problem with this option was that the bus that took us to the border would not be allowed to carry us across (the driver not having a visa for Greece) and you have to cross the border in a vehicle. Dogan assured me and the Greek tourists in the next car and the nervous british man from 3 cars down that there were taxis that could take us across, and that we would find a way. Of course the other problem was that once we were across the border, we would be in this place 100 km from any towns or anything with no transportation, but that we would deal with when we got there.

Given these two options, one of which would mean that I had wasted a day and gone nowhere, the other which had no conclusive plans, but definite adventure, I picked the obvious choice. An hour later (not 20 minutes) and freezing cold (it was about -7), I was in a minibus with 22 other adventurous travellers and their luggage, headed for the next border crossing.

Another hour later we were at the border. The minibus driver went in and had a chat with the border guards, and they agreed to let him take us across to the other side, but with a police escort. We were grateful, and collected some tips to give him. At this point, there was palpable worry on the bus about what would happen at the other end. I was going to alexandroupoli, a nearby town, but most of the other passengers were headed for Thessaloniki and Athens. We were nowhere near the train station and the taxis that we had been told would be on the other side weren't.

After the Turkish exit, and while waiting for the Greek entry process to be complete, a couple of Turkish container truck drivers came over and offered us rides. I have never been in a container truck before and I found out that in addition to the 2 seats for the driver and passenger, there are also bunk beds! Dude! So we rearranged ourselves into groups for the free rides. I joined a group going with Kemal. He was headed for Thessaloniki. OK so my destination was Alexandroupoli, but I heard that Thessaloniki was nice too, so what the heck! 5 hours later, we were at the port in Thessaloniki. It was 1 in the morning. I was tired, no exhausted. I knew nothing about the city I was in. The others headed for the train station to try and catch up with the train they would have been on, in order not to have wasted their ticket. I wandered around the city looking for a cheap hotel. I found a place that had heard about the train and gave me a great discount on a room for the night, I think in part because I looked so tired and pathetic. However, the hotel was about three stars more than I had budgeted for (my budget being in the range of "dirt cheap") so I knew that I would have to leave.

This morning I woke up and had the continental breakfast included in the price of the hotel and grabbed some maps and headed out.

Thessaloniki is a beautiful city! I realised then that I know not a word of Greek, except for what I heard on "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" which was a great movie, but not necessarily a very good language class!

Fortunately, everyone here is very friendly. Last night in the truck, reading the signs in Greek and English, and recalling the greek letters we used in maths, I was able to figure out most of the alphabet, so although I don't know the language, I'm not illiterate! I bought a lonely planet guide and investigated the budget hotels.

This requires a separate entry.