Kavala

Oranges in Kavala

We crossed the border by foot. There didn’t seem to be anyone too interested in going to (or coming from) Greece that day, apart from a few truck drivers. When we left Turkey, to our delight, the border guard informed us that it was against the law for us to walk across the bridge to cross the river delineating Turkey from Greece. We had to drive. We waited about 15 minutes before getting lucky. Some Turkish guys crossing the border let us get in the back of their scary, windowless, creepy-guy-who-gives-candy-to-children van. It must have looked slightly suspicious when we crossed the border and proceeded to tumble out of the back of the van (though nobody seemed to mind - I don’t think too many people are trying to sneak into Greece at the moment - it could have something to do with its current economic problems).

The charming and hilarious Nikos

Once finally on the other side of the border, we found a great place to hitchhike. In fact, it was such a great place that we only had to wait two hours for a ride. We were eventually picked up by one of the first cars that passed (it was a pretty deserted place - there was nobody around apart from us and a truck driver cooing his dinner over a fire on the side of the road). The old couple that saved us from the freezing cold was very friendly, gave us chocolate biscuits, and provided us with about an hour of luxury transportation in their new BMW. They didn’t speak much English, but they were able to teach us Greek words such as efreristo (thank you) and oreila (beautiful). The old man drove fast, and I have a very vivid memory of simultaneously being on the cell phone with their English-speaking daughter (trying to figure out where we should be dropped off), eating a cookie with the other hand (the same mouth mind you), and cruising along at 160 km/hr.

 The transition from Muslim to Christian was very sudden. I also immediately began to understand why Greek Gods were worshipped. The skies were dark and turbulent; the sea to the one side of the highway was angry and vast; the rivers we crossed were violent and swollen; the sky was filled with prototypical, jagged lightening bolts; the mountains loomed aggressively over us. It was straight out of Mordor, but with more vegetation and fewer orcs.

The old couple pointed out their village as we were driving, but for some reason they didn’t turn off the road or let us out. The eventually let us out about 30 minutes later, gave us a loaf of bread (they had been grocery shopping in Turkey - it must be significantly cheaper), and bit us farewell. We weren’t sure why they had left us where they had, but it soon made sense when they turned around and we watched them drive back in the direction we had come. They had done us a big favour by bringing us half an hour further.

Greek flag on the castle in Kavala

Our fourth ride of the day picked us up just as the first drops of rain were starting to fall. He was just in time, as it started to pour just as we set off again. From what I remember, the guy was a mechanic of some kind, played an accordion, was sick, and was a pseudo-hippy. Though he wasn’t going there, he drove us right into the outskirts of Kavala, which is a little ways off the road. He saved us a lot of trouble- it would have been a long walk in.

Now Kavala, our first destination in Greece, turned out to be your stereotypical coastal Greek paradise, with white buildings built along one side of a mountain leading down to the sea. We stood at the top of town, looking out in wonder at the beautiful city before us, and smoked what might have been our last clove cigarettes from India. It was a great moment in a great day. It only got better when we heard a voice yelling from behind us: “What in the world are you doing?”

The sweet and kind Kostakis

I suppose it must have looked a bit strange: us with our feet dangling off a cliff in the middle of winter; our backpacks to the side; wearing toques, gloves, and every other article of clothing we had available. We turned around to find that a very blonde 60-year-old woman with very red lipstick and a very furry fur coat was approaching us. It turns out that she was British, but living in Kavala. She was very animated, very honest, and a little bit crazy. She invited us in for a drink. We obliged.

So there we are, sitting at a table full of at least 12 old Greeks in a fancy hotel with free cakes and little desserts and other such delicacies. She bought us espresso. She bought us amaretto. She bought us a pack of cigarettes (in fact, she only wanted one cigarette, which is why she bought them in the first place - her regular brand were waiting for her at home). After drinking with them for a couple of hours and repeatedly turning down invitations to join her that night at her place (her husband was out of town), we decided that the time might be right to go and meet our Couchsurfing host. We said goodbye and her friends (who didn’t speak English) drove us down to the city square in their luxury SUV.

Kostakis' sister, Anastasia

Our hosts, Kostakis and Nikos, were pure gold. There was a little bit of a language barrier, but we got along right away. We had a good walk around, and they bought us pork gyros stuffed with French fries and some Amstel beers, which we drank in the rain next to the harbour. Their generosity was astounding in light of the economic problems plaguing the country. In only one day we were already beginning to develop a fairly good understanding of how serious these problems were/are. We met a large group of their friends that night, who all sat around chatting and smoking rolling tobacco. There were about ten of them, but only Nikos had a job. Many of them had University degrees and work experience, but they still spent most of their time each day looking for work. Nikos was working every night in a fish factory, from 23:00 - 07:00, and was very grateful to have a job.

We stayed up late, chatting and enjoying each other’s company. They were all such friendly people; somehow full of curiosity, optimism, and plans for the future. I devoured some anti-histamine to spite their cat before crawling into bed and having a great sleep.

The next day I got up early and went for a walk to buy new guitar strings. We then all met up for coffee at a place where they meet and hang out each morning. Anastasia brought us breakfast. After a deliciously murky Greek coffee (which turns out to be exactly the same thing as a Turkish coffee) we (Ben, Nikos + girlfriend, Kostakis + sister, and I) set off to explore the old town and the castle. It was a lovely day of navigating the old labyrinthian streets and standing on top of the world in the turret of an old castle-turned-museum. Our lunch together was Greek salad (of course),that was delicious and made by Kostakis. Nikos put 10 Euros worth of gas in his car so that he could drive us to the highway. We exchanged stickers of Indian Gods for an autographed seashell.

Left to right: Kostakis, Thomas, Ben, Nikos