Friday, April 23, 2010

Scope me? Skop-ya! - Thursday April 15




It’s been wonderful to return to familiar places throughout this trip. Everything seems a bit easier, even if I’d only just passed through the last time. I’d expected my early morning arrival in Thessaloniki to permit me to hop on the 9:30 train to Skopje that Nicos had found on-line the day before. But ‘the map (or the timetable) was not the territory’ and the ticket agent informed me that I’d missed it (it left at 5). Thus, I’d need to wait until 5:30 in the afternoon to leave for Skopje. Not ideal, but time to ‘made do’. As most of my travel plans were still very much up in the air (I knew I wanted to be in the UK by Sunday afternoon) this turn of events set some new design parameters.


I sat down for a cup of coffee and a pastry and tried to log onto the internet. While I should've gotten a free signal, it didn’t seem to work. Throughout this trip, the internet has provided an indispensable planning crutch for me - it’s really hard to fathom how people ever got by without it. I spent the next hour or so trying to find a connection so that I could better assess my options. At this point, I was starting to consider a flight to London rather than the overland train route I’d been exploring.


I found an internet cafe, but they didn’t have wireless, so I couldn’t use my computer. As I tried to search kayak.com flights, the machine informed me that the computer’s clock was set to 2099 and couldn’t property search until it was changed - no one at the cafe knew how (or cared to try ) to fix it , so I had to abandon ship. I was at least able to get enough info though to k now that it was starting to make sense to go to Skopje through Saturday night, return to Thessaloniki by train and get a more affordable flight from there to London Sunday morning or afternoon.


Once I’d decided on this, I returned to the train station and rented a car to pass the day away and explore the Macedonian (northern Greek region) countryside. It was a pretty straightforward process, and I was on the road within a half hour. The driving wasn’t as crazy as I’d anticipated though navigation was. Without being able to really read street names (or find them in many cases) I set off with my GPS intuition system but it was unfortunately miscalibrated, and I ended up getting out of the urban chaos in the wrong direction. After an hour or so of driving, I realized this and turned back around to head north as I’d originally intended.


Eventually I was in the rough place I’d wanted to be and had about five hours to explore. With 150 kilometers free and an extra charge for any beyond that, I tried to keep my range modest. (Not to mention $6/gallon gas). I aimed myself north for Serres and at some point just chose to get off the highway and dip into the countryside. I picked a good spot. As the road meandered through rolling hills and scattered villages, I passed orchards, fields, frequent stands of young black locust plantations (no sign of any coppicing done to the m yet) and occasional mud brick houses. Not really engaging with the landscape in the way I’d intended, I continued until I had passed some good scenery, parked the car and proceeded on a 2.5 hour round trip amble to get a better feel.


It was a great decision. I passed through a small village and spoke with the first man I found (elderly and blind in one eye) who I think wanted to know who I was. As communication broke down, I decided I should probably leave as he seemed to be a bit suspicious, so I kept going. I was trying to engage with him about the mud brick structure next door.


I continued on, passing orchards and field crops, a few small black locust plantation and then doubled back, wanting to make sure I left plenty of time to get lost and stuck in city traffic on the way home. About 2/3 of the way back, a man pulled over and picked me up, taking me all the way to town. It was really nice though I’m not sure he would’ve done it had he known I was a foreigner (that’s probably unfair of me to say).


I took a roundabout way home and managed to to fairly directly navigate my way to the Thessaloniki bus station but need to double back for gas. I drew surprise from the attendant when I asked him to fill it up with ‘dio litra’ (2 liters - 1/2 gallon) so that I’d bring it back to the level it was at when I’d picked her up originally. I used the parked car as a locker (I can’t believe there was an empty space available) and went and grabbed a quick bite across the street. A fantastic gyro and a bottle of what looked like very local beer. Only when I noticed the label read 11% alcohol, and I translated it did I realize it was Retsina - a local white wine which I believe got its name from the conifer resin used to flavor it. It was an enlightening lunch.


My train for Skopje left at 5:30. I managed to stay awake for most of the ride to the border, but at that point, I kept falling in and out of sleep. The border agents took my passport, and I awoke some time later to realize that I was alone in the train car surrounded by the cyrillic alphabet. I was feeling a little intimidated, but it was ultimately just the effects of that good ol’ anti-communist Rocky IV programming of my childhood. In my very limited experience, I found the people of Skopje to be very good natured, caring and kind.


A few minutes later, on the Skopje side of the border, the train came back to life with a bevy of teenage and 20-something youth filling the car, blasting their ipods and catting away. I haven’t felt so thankful for that much nonsense for some time.


Despite my attempts to resist, I slept on and off for the remainder of the trip. A light rain had picked up on the Macedonian side of the border (the first I’d seen in over ten days). It made it hard to see out of my dusty window (especially with the fading light). What I could see was a majestic landscape peppered with lightly vegetated mountains, open expanses of farmland bordered by managed hedgerows, modest and crumbling homesteads with occasional massive modern concrete reinforced brick homes at varying stages of completion. It is a beautifully humbling landscape that seemed to overflow with painful tales of poverty and pain. I don’t know much about the legacy of war in this largely forgotten nation, but I do know that ethic clashes had brought about a scenario necessitating a massive refugee camp that was the subject of a well-publicized international permaculture design project coordinated by my teacher Geoff Lawton over 10 years ago.


The landscape reminded me of Vermont, West Virginia and North Carolina, but more rocky and vertical - in many places the bedding planes in the stone were very literally vertical - from what I observed, the bedrock geology was largely a slightly metamorphosed limestone and shale - similar to that of Vermont (but steeper).


We arrived in Skopje around 10:30 to a dark and rainy night and probably one of the poorest and inaccurate first impressions a country has ever made on me. The station itself seemed a relic of the communist era - grey, cold, crumbling and barely functional. I was prepared for something like this, but I later came to learn that it really didn’t accurately reflect the state of the city. From the extensive leaks in the ceiling, to the absolutely dead interior space, to the long-broken escalator, broken windows in the dingy bathroom, it’s certainly not what most ‘modern’ nations would choose as an introduction to their country. That said, I respect the functionality of it and the reluctance to dress up something merely for aesthetics.


Feeling a bit intimidated by my new and very different and unpronounceable surroundings (I didn’t even know what the currency was, what it’s worth, etc.) I got info on return to travel to Thessaloniki, asked about hotels and then met a helpful, if pushy, cab driver who told me he’d take me to a nice, cheap hotel in the center of town for three Euros. I’ve heard this story before and while he seemed trustworthy, I didn’t want to give in too early.


When I said, I’d walk, he scoffed, saying it was three kilometers! (absolutely nothing to me - about 1.8 miles). I realized at this hour with no map and no context for the city layout, I should just go with him, so I popped my card in the ATM and was faced with a withdrawal option - from 1000-50,0000 ‘somethings’. Not wanting to withdraw $1000 worth of this mysterious currency, I chose a modest # - 5000 (Denaris) which I later found are about 60 to the Euro (or two US cents each).


We got in the cab and headed to town. He was a very nice, talkative man and I was happy I’d chosen to use him. He took me to the city center, and it seemed much more welcoming than my first impression at the station. He proceeded to take me to ‘his hotel’ and didn’t seem to understand that I didn’t want accommodation forced on me. He finally got it and I got out, thanked him and set out on foot in a light, late-night rain in search of comfortable, affordable accommodation where I would have internet access to plan the rest of my travel.


I found the pedestrian center, lined with bars and cafes, stopped in the first hotel I found (The Holiday Inn) and moved on quick when I learned it cost 140 Euros/night (now that’s upscale!). The clerk suggested I try to Hotel Aristocrat for a more affordable option and kindly gave me a map and directions. This had been my first chance to try out my new five to then word Macedonian vocabulary. Dobro vecem. Dafi zboruvate angliski? and I’d actually fooled him into thinking that I knew some other Slavic language. Not bad


Due to the one intensive semester of Russian in college, I found that deciphering Macedonian was far easier for me than Greek. In fact, it cam back pretty quick. (the sounding out, not the speaking - though I did recall some pronunciation). The language actually seems a fair bit different. One remarkable language-related realization is that when you cross the imaginary line between Greece and Macedonia, something incredible happens - one key word changes it’s meaning completely - ‘No’. In Greece, ‘ne’ means yes. In Macedonian, it means ‘no’. Imagine that!


With some kind help from a convenience stand worker, I realized I had found the right street for my hotel after about twenty minutes of walking and soon enough was in a delightfully spacious and comfortable room, unwinding from a long day of travel. I found a flight from Thessaloniki to London, booked it and went to sleep.


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