Sunday Morning comin' down Part 4 Greece

 Sunday Morning comin' down Part 4  Greece

Rome was a smash up. Even then I'd been a fan of the history of the early emperors, Julius and later Claudius because the former was some kind of super leader and the latter had been the focus of a BBC I had watched as a teen with my family on PBS. "I Claudius".  Still a frickin' great show. So ..there was the forum and the Coliseum .  Right there.  A couple thousand years old.  In the forum you could tred the same paths as Julius, Brutus, Cassius ...all those people. It seemed real and ghostly. Made bizarre by a movie set with a flying saucer and alien right in the middle.  Stats photographed here.  One shot is of a big limo (a Bugatti?)  and the driver proudly standing before it...he's about 4'10".  Stayed in a pensione.  Ate cheap spaghetti and pizza. cheap beer. cheep wine.  And it was all at arm's length because neither of us knew any italian to speak. 

Christmas was nearing. A week or two away.  We'd been on the road long enough we began to run into backpackers like us we'd met earlier in the journey. That felt good. The italian trains sucked.  but we decided to go as far south as our eurorail would take us. We caught a train....target? Brindisi. On the Adriatic. Caesar crossed here to chase Pompeii back in the day.  It was a long...night train.  Stats seemed to be not feeling well. We both got bench seats to sleep on. But they were a bit apart.  In my car...I made eye contact with a pretty gal.  She was petite and wearing a wool sweater that ate her up it was so big. Struck up a conversation. Her name was Francoise. She was from Bourgoin-Jallieu, a town outside Lyon and on her holiday.  Going to Greece to meet friends. I liked her. She liked me. 

It was a long, rattley bumpy night.  Italian trains were old and dog eared. We talked a while cause we couldn't sleep. Then..slowly faded.  Arrived in Brindisi the next morning. 

The good news was Francoise knew where to go to find the ferry across the Adriatic to Greece. The bad news was we had to wait til the next day for the departure. Stats and I found a cheap hotel near the docks and she left and we must have agreed to meet up for dinner at cafe nearby. It was really just a cheap regular Italian bistro where the food is average and the wine is good. Turns out there were quite a few young travelers in our predicament. I guess half of 'em must have showed up at the bistro that evening.  Stats and I seemed to be the only Americans.  People shared tables.  We wound up at a table with a gaunt fellow with light red hair that was matted into dreadlocks. He had a narrow face...brown eyes and a gallic nose. He looked cool.  He spoke English (and german, french and greek and probably more). He was about 27. His name was Oliver Keller. 

As the meals were served,  a general discussion began about the Iranian hostage crisis.  There were Brits and Canadians there...maybe some Aussies. So some of the talk was in English.  When the room realized we were American,  people began directing questions at us...And...the questions were hostile. Which I thought was bullshit. Iran had taken American civilians hostage. But the tone of the room was that "America had it coming".  Francoise had joined us and she didn't say much as I recall.  Oliver didn't say much either but clearly...he seemed to be amused by our dilemma. But, not in a malicious way.  

Stats and I mounted the best defense we could.  We took up for the USA. But, I guess it was obvious we weren't as well versed in the US's role in the middle east as our 'debate opponents' were so we pretty much had to resort to stuff like..."well these are innocent men and women"  with no answer to the retort about the innocent men and women America had snuffed out along the way in Jordan, Israel, and in Iran under the Shah with his secret police force. We just tried to be good natured and show Americans were people too.  

*****************************To Greece**************************************

The next evening,  the ferry departed and we were on it. Packers slog on over a metal gangway. Head up to the top deck.  The ship heaves away at a stately pace from the dock providing a view of the town. And headed out...over the Adriatic...night was coming soon.  Stats was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He had a sore tooth. I think maybe got him some aspirin but while exploring the boat ran into Oliver.  He joined us. As it happened he had a tube of 'oragel' or a local topical anesthetic that Stats could apply to the tooth and gum. He got some relief.  Francoise and I got our sleeping bags out and we all found some sheltered spots on the deck.  There was nothing to see ...not even stars.  The sky was too cloudy.  Maybe two in the morning and a storm came up.  

I'd never been on a ship at sea in a storm. First...advice...don't hold your sleeping bag out like a damn sail for the wind to catch and almost blow overboard...with you clinging on.  Scary! We all staggered on the rolling deck to the hatch to get inside.  None of us had eaten the ship buffet. But ...as we went inside we had no trouble figuring out what the main course had been.  Spaghetti w/ tomato sauce.  As it was evident all over the floors...steps or anywhere someone had been sea sick and tossed it. NASTY!  

The storm howled on...but our ship kept on it's course.  Waking the next morning early...we saw land...it was Korfu and we had crossed the Adriatic. 

We spent the evening and night in Korfu.  Again...a cheap but decent hotel. We would discover Greece was cheaper all the way around.  The next day, we went on to cross to the mainland and board a Greek train to Athens. I am a little fuzzy, but I think Oliver had gone on ahead, but me, Stats and Francoise rode the train.  It was rickety. The cars were at least 20 years old and they had platforms at the back  and front between cars.  A little gang of us young backpackers gathered on one of these platforms. It was a sun shiny day and we sang pop songs ...one after another as the ancient land whizzed by us. Hearts and spirits were high. 

ATHENS  Francoise went on to join her friends on her holiday.  Stats and I spent a couple nights in Athens.  We gravitated to Plaka. Sure..it was a touristy area but for that reason it appealed to us. There were tavernas, cheap hotels and an open market. We saw the Parthenon and stood there and I imagined the cannon on the far hill pelting this treasure from antiquity. Down at the US Embassy...protesters set fires and protested the US policy viz  Iran.  I saw a graffiti emblazened on a building wall "F*CK THE USA"  in English.  But in Athens I also learned some more on the road wisdom.  In the train station a Roma woman...a gypsy....sat on the dirty floor with her dirty face and what looked like some kind of injury...and with her dirty child begging.  But by then I wasn't shocked.  We were told about the Roma in Europe...especially Greece...using children and faking injury to sucker tourists.  I learned that public restrooms in Greece were for me...indecipherable as to which was mens and which was womens. So I learned to wait outside until someone came out or went in.  LOL.  If a man went in then I thought..'ok' that's it.  In an Athens toilet a middle aged hippie looking british fellow offered to sell me a chunk of Hashish.  I was tempted...but then some Hillbilly wisdom got me.  My Uncle Marshall who'd been a Merchant Marine had told stories how in some foreign countries he'd been in...grifters would give you dope or plant it in your open coat pocket...then report you to the local cops.  I declined my british friend's generous offer on the Hash. 

Stats' eyes were lit up.  We were sitting having a beer in a taverna and he had out a map that showed the Mediterranean.  In a week or so it would be Christmas.  He pointed out how Israel wasn't too far. Hell it wasn't nearly as faraway as Narvik was from Copenhagen.  Why not spend Christmas in Bethelham? For two guys from Sellersburg, raised in churches, this made perfect sense.  He was raised in the Church of Christ and me in the First Baptist Church of Sellersburg. We didn't talk about religion.  We didn't say "our family would like this idea"  we didn't say how we could tell this story in years ahead...but we both kinda knew all that was in play.  Fine.  Let's go to the docks of Piraeus and find a ship to Israel.  Hell  we might even run into Monevi again.

                                              (Me on the Deck of a Greek Ferry)