Europe 2008 Part II — Athens and Patrás

The countryside between Thessaloniki and Athens is gorgeous. As our train weaved in and out of mountain tunnels we caught sight of deep green forests with hidden streams and valleys covered in crops. Before too long, we arrived at the main station in Athens and set off for our hostel. It took us about thirty minutes to locate on foot. We had a room at the very top of a winding staircase, sharing it with a guy from Poland. (A girl from Hawaii who had been traveling all over Europe for the last three months was just leaving that evening.)

After dropping our stuff we took the metro to the Plaka, which is a quaint little neighborhood under the shadow of the Acropolis with winding cobbled streets and a multitude of shops and restaurants. We had an awesome meal of lamb and potatoes with wine (of course) before heading up to the Acropolis. It was quite dark now and the great hill was closed. Seeing the Parthenon lit up at night always gives me chills. I think of ancient human history and the great civilizations that built these temples which still stand today. What must it have been like back then? For me, it is one of the most breathtaking sights in all of Greece.

We wandered around a bit and bumped into some girls from America who had snuck into one of the amphitheatres to take photos (typical). As one of the girls climbed back over the fence to retrieve her camera, the thought passed through my head ‘How nice it would be to be caught here and arrested. That would make our trip quite memorable.’ Fortunately, no one got into any trouble.

 

It was immensely silent and peaceful around the Acropolis.

 

The next morning, we had a little time before our train departed for Patrás. We returned to the Acropolis and were lucky to get free tickets for the day. Once again, it was a bright and sunny day…not a cloud in the sky. After pushing through the crowds and taking a ridiculous amount of photos and video, we headed back toward the train station.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was at this point that everything started to go downhill.

 

To begin with, our train was delayed about an hour. This meant we would only have about thirty minutes in Patrás to catch our ferry once we arrived. ‘Well, it will be close, but we can do it’, I thought.

 

So we sat on the platform and waited. And waited…

 

No train.

 

Minutes turned into hours. At this point, we knew we would miss the ferry because it only left once a day in the early evening. We had lost a day in Italy.

 

As we sat there, we had a broken conversation with a guy from Morocco. He asked us to try and fix his cell phone, but we couldn’t. Then a man at the station signaled that we were not allowed to sit on the ground. Frustration was mounting.

 

At last, the train pulled up. We were quite fortunate to sit near three drunken homeless men who didn’t stop talking the whole trip. After the worst couple of train rides yet, we made it to Patrás. Our ferry had left well over an hour ago. We were thus forced to spend the night in the city.

 

Naturally, this turned into one of the most memorable evenings of the trip. Most of our time was spent either perched on the rocks looking up at the bright stars over the Mediterranean or walking up and down the same street (we counted, and I believe we walked the same half-mile back and forth 9 times).

 

As midnight slipped into the next morning, we were quite exhausted and tried to find a place to sleep. Benches were no good—either too close to the busy street or not comfortable enough—so we found some rose bushes and stunted trees and attempted to tucker out under their generous ‘canopy’. I still had my leftover cobb-salad in a plastic bag, thus looking quite the part of a homeless man (at least according to Caleb). It wasn’t so much the hard ground that made it difficult to sleep, but the cold wind which was relentless all night.

 

 

Getting very little rest, we left our ‘sanctuary’ and walked around a bit more. I had to use the john, but the bathroom at the train station was locked. So I just happened to walk down the opposite side of the building and open a door that was curiously unlocked. I peered into a dark hallway. As I slowly entered, I was met by a middle-aged man who seemed not too happy to see me. He began talking rapidly in Greek, looking a bit angry and confused; but he let me use the facilities in the end, thank God.

 

Our wanderings took us to an old church that rose up mysteriously in the night. We sat across the street staring at the front steps and trying not to fall asleep. It was about 4:30am. After checking out the church up close (the surrounding garden was no place for sleep) we decided to return to the rose bushes. I was so tired by this point that sleep came most naturally, and I was awakened an hour or two later by the rising sun.

 

Since we had the whole day in Patrás ahead of us, we used it economically. After having an espresso with lots of sugar, we found a local laundromat for Caleb to wash his clothes. We were able to book the ferry ride for only €20 extra. We bought some food for the overseas journey (bread, salami, gouda, fresh kiwis and wine, of course!), wandered around town a bit and then sat at the ferry station to wait.

 

At last, we boarded the boat. With a great sense of relief, we were leaving Greece behind.

 

Italy lay ahead…