Uncle Traveling Matt
Now that I am back on my own Powerbook, I have the time to write more than the cryptic internet cafe posts.
We're back in Serbia now, after spending 10 days on the beach in Greece. Like the previous post mentioned - the traveling was a bit of an adventure. Sort of like Amazing Race, Balkan Edition. We left on a bus to Greece, after being assured that Canadians had no problems with visas for the trip. At 3 am,we were awakened by the Macedonian border police - apparently a visa was of prime importance. So we found ourselves sitting on the side of the highway, stuck in no-man's land between Serbia and Macedonia, feeling like a chameleon of Tom Hanks characters - part lost guy in The Terminal, part lost guy in Castaway and definitely Sleepless (but not in Seattle).
At 5 am, we flagged down a bus headed to Belgrade, and after 6 hours, our trip began back where it started. We figured out a bus heading to Sofia, Bulgaria via Nis. Spent the night asleep on the tables in Sofia, as lying on benches was verboten. At 7 am, we boarded a bus to Thessaloniki, Greece..where we finally parted company with some similarly stranded (and infinitely helpless) Hungarians whom we picked up on the Macedonian highway. After 40 hours of travel, we got to our apartment in Pefkhori Greece - a new town of beautiful beaches with streets made of interlocking brick and enough roast pork to fill the bellies of any meat eating animal (myself not included of course).
First thing I did was find a doctor - as my stomach was having convulsions that were beginning to feel as if I was preparing to give birth. As I had suspected, I had been drinking liters of bad water every morning in Serbia before and after my 5 am runs. I was put on a strict diet of bread and ice tea (I may yet write a diet book - the Adriatic Diet ... how to lose 5 lbs in 5 days), and given some antibiotics and within a few days I was back to normal.
The days and nights at the beach were spectacular - sun, sand and salt by day, World Cup football by night. The town was full of English tourists, and my Lions (despite Michael Owen's accordion knee trick) played through to the quarter finals, so the atmosphere was perfect. There's something about watching soccer in a different language, where the commentary serves to heighten the excitement without distracting from the action - watching the final on home soil will definitely be a shock.
Our trip home was less eventful than the trip there - bus to Thessaloniki, midnight train to Sofia (with some nice north american companions). Relaxing ride, with Jose Gonzalez acoustic guitar juxtaposed against the metal on rails soundtrack of the night. Caught a 1pm train to Serbia, and, despite the dirty Bulgarian women smuggling clothes across the border and 37 degree temperatures, we survived.
Flying to Paris on Saturday - will be there in time to see England vs Portugal. Will fall asleep to Brazil vs France, dreaming of the bread that awaits me for breakfast, along with the newly decimated field of the Tour De France.
We're back in Serbia now, after spending 10 days on the beach in Greece. Like the previous post mentioned - the traveling was a bit of an adventure. Sort of like Amazing Race, Balkan Edition. We left on a bus to Greece, after being assured that Canadians had no problems with visas for the trip. At 3 am,we were awakened by the Macedonian border police - apparently a visa was of prime importance. So we found ourselves sitting on the side of the highway, stuck in no-man's land between Serbia and Macedonia, feeling like a chameleon of Tom Hanks characters - part lost guy in The Terminal, part lost guy in Castaway and definitely Sleepless (but not in Seattle).
At 5 am, we flagged down a bus headed to Belgrade, and after 6 hours, our trip began back where it started. We figured out a bus heading to Sofia, Bulgaria via Nis. Spent the night asleep on the tables in Sofia, as lying on benches was verboten. At 7 am, we boarded a bus to Thessaloniki, Greece..where we finally parted company with some similarly stranded (and infinitely helpless) Hungarians whom we picked up on the Macedonian highway. After 40 hours of travel, we got to our apartment in Pefkhori Greece - a new town of beautiful beaches with streets made of interlocking brick and enough roast pork to fill the bellies of any meat eating animal (myself not included of course).
First thing I did was find a doctor - as my stomach was having convulsions that were beginning to feel as if I was preparing to give birth. As I had suspected, I had been drinking liters of bad water every morning in Serbia before and after my 5 am runs. I was put on a strict diet of bread and ice tea (I may yet write a diet book - the Adriatic Diet ... how to lose 5 lbs in 5 days), and given some antibiotics and within a few days I was back to normal.
The days and nights at the beach were spectacular - sun, sand and salt by day, World Cup football by night. The town was full of English tourists, and my Lions (despite Michael Owen's accordion knee trick) played through to the quarter finals, so the atmosphere was perfect. There's something about watching soccer in a different language, where the commentary serves to heighten the excitement without distracting from the action - watching the final on home soil will definitely be a shock.
Our trip home was less eventful than the trip there - bus to Thessaloniki, midnight train to Sofia (with some nice north american companions). Relaxing ride, with Jose Gonzalez acoustic guitar juxtaposed against the metal on rails soundtrack of the night. Caught a 1pm train to Serbia, and, despite the dirty Bulgarian women smuggling clothes across the border and 37 degree temperatures, we survived.
Flying to Paris on Saturday - will be there in time to see England vs Portugal. Will fall asleep to Brazil vs France, dreaming of the bread that awaits me for breakfast, along with the newly decimated field of the Tour De France.
posted by sobe at
4:22 PM
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