No cars - yes Matka - Friday April 16

Needing to catch up on sleep (noting a theme here?) but also hoping to make the most of the day, I split the difference and was up by 8. Feeling largely refreshed from my shower the night before and a night in a big comfortable bed, I headed downstairs for the free included breakfast - something of a ‘fancy’ continental style. What was the most striking was the presentation. Everything was neatly laid out and tightly wrapped on cellophane covered plates. I filled up and then asked the hotel attendant about travel recommendations. He was very kind and helpful though I don’t think he was really able to grasp what I was actually looking for - coppice examples and traditional land use. Nevertheless, he walked me across the map, introducing me to the modestly-sized nation, which was immensely helpful.

When I requested help booking a car, he went above and beyond the call and tree all three rental agencies in Macedonia. Guess what - none! No cars available. I never would’ve supposed it. Well, time to make do again. I chose instead to explore the city a bit on foot and then visit Matka canyon - a place he’d recommended.

I had a few hours before the bust left so I meandered around the city streets, stumbling onto a market, stopping at a car rental company to see if it was really true, passing back through the heart of the city where I bought some roasted chestnuts and then found an incredible cheese-filled pastry - which reminds me - I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet the experience of ordering food which is a complete mystery. Always interesting, it really helps to be open and free of dietary restrictions. By and large, I’ve had very good luck this trip and my willingness to explore has paid off.

It took a while, but I soon found my way to the train/bus station - just across the road from an overgrown field full of dock (Rumex) and populated by two tethered, grazing horses. I got to the local bus terminal with some help and sucked up diesel fumes until my bus arrived. I wonder what stories this aging fleet could tell. Where did their active lives begin? The ‘bus’ to Matka canyon arrived a few minutes early and it was more aptly named a mini-short bus. With about fifteen seats (one on either side of a large, central aisle) it was really more of a big van that appeared to have been placed in service a good 30-40 years earlier. The sole rider at this point, the driver struck me as your classic eastern European man - crisp, full facial features, cleanly cropped short hair, an old polyester suit coat and a cigarette dangling from a wooden holder. I knew that I could trust this man with my life.

The bus gradually filled up and I found myself fading in and out of sleep. I soon got up to give my seat up to an older woman that got on, but while standing had no context for where we were. In another fifteen minutes or so, I had a place to sit again and watched us climb the hillside through small villages, finally reaching the end of our section of road.

A full fiver faced along between two steep mountainsides and what I first noticed was the kayak race course below. This was obviously a tourist area at certain times of year. This was not one. I had thought about grabbing a bite to eat at one of the restaurants, but they both seemed closed.

Curious, I crossed the river on the old concrete bridge and started up a foot path that I followed for about an hour. I had two hours before the last return bus would arrive. The landscape was exceedingly rocky with only very small, stunted woody vegetation - primarily box (Buxus spp), occasionally birch, ask and shrub oak. There was a light groundcover in places with some lovely wild yellow iris. I’m not sure if the seemingly stunted vegetation is the result of extensive deforestation and erosion or rather just due to the harsh nature of this challenging landscape. MUch of what I’d seen of Macedonia had looked like this to this point, and in a place that seemed so mild and moist, I had expected to see more rich forest.

Just then, three busloads of children arrived on the other side of the river and their enthusiasm was overwhelming. Loudly singing songs and screaming about the river, it was wonderful to share in their excitement. I continued up the moist, rocky path, enjoying the views, birdsong, roaring water, clean air and smells. The rock faces spoke of something ancient and mysterious - nearly vertical in many places. I stopped at what appeared to be my best view before needing to return, overlooking the hydro plant below, took a few moments to meditate and gave thanks.

Once I returned to the base of the river, I nearby and passed twenty minutes or so before the bus arrived. I noticed a modest-sized branch lodged against the river bottom, caught in a roaring deluge of water and appearing to be slowly dragged along, but at the same time unflinching. I watched to see when it would finally give way, recognizing it as an analogy for my life and that of other activists. How long can one fight the flood that is the status quo before you’re forced to give in? The branch didn’t - at least not while I was around.

The same driver returned and tried to tell me something in Macedonian, but I couldn’t understand. He was frustrated. I think he was telling me the bus didn’t return all the way into the heart of town.

When we reached the end of our route, he stopped and a young man told me ‘last stop’. I nodded and smiled, and when I got off, he stopped to make sure I knew how to get home. I was truly touched by his conscious compassion.

I started my return home, and the sky opened up (with rain). I was very glad to have brought my umbrella. The walk proved far longer than I’d thought. All things told I walked over 15 miles that day.

I was beginning to wonder if my internal GPS had steered me awry. Then I passed a small mall and saw a Hertz sign (rental car company). I went to ask about cars for the next day (none) and directions. I was only one block away from home (and from an Avis rental company in the mall). I begrudgingly entered the very modern mall and found a sight not unlike that in the States. I stopped at Avis and was able to reserve a car for Saturday - all was not lost! I popped into the near American-sized supermarket to see what they had available - it made me want to support a small corner-store style vendor.

On the way to the hotel, I stopped to eat the lunch I’d never had - I definitely had to settle for convenience. The cranky woman was no help and the only thing I could figure out they had was a hamburger (same pronunciation in Macedonian). The Skopsko beer helped me down it (not that I don’t like burgers - it just wasn't that great). I will say that the presentation was very nice - served with fries and a small salad. Very reminiscent of California’s ‘In and Out Burger’.

It was after seven by then, and I returned to my hotel room exhausted. Intending to go out and explore the Friday night life (and get a proper Macedonian meal), I also wanted to make sure I wasn’t overtired for my tour of the countryside the next day. I got caught up in TV and computer work, and the hard rain outside sealed the deal - I was asleep and in bed by nine and slept through until 8 the next morning.

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.

No Sleep Til Niki - not this time

We got up a bit late, enjoyed a quick breakfast and headed back to Athens. I collected my things and set off to Larissa Station to get a ticket north to Thessaloniki and then on to Skopje (Macedonia). I was too late for the morning train and would have to wait until midnight. So began the cascading travel modifications I’ve been making for the past week or so.

I used the opportunity to catch up with some of my new friends around the city. My first stop brought me to the awesome home of Kostas and Fotini. They recently started to rent a four story building which they are using to host workshops, classes and more. It’s quite incredible. From the wind turbine building shop in the basement, to the expansive hall for yoga classes, presentations, movies and more, the massage space, Fotini's herb space and tea room to rooftop soon-to-be-garden, it was an inspiring, evolving example of urban permaculture. We sat down and shared photos and thoughts over tea, and I used their sun drenched rooftop to finish drying my still damp (but now clean) clothes from a couple days before.

It was great catching up with Fotini and seeing what an amazing oasis they’ve begun to grow in Athens. We went our separate ways around 2pm, and I went to the city center to lunch and relax a bit before meeting with Kristos at the Saligari site.

At 6, Kristos and I connected outside the McDonald’s at Syntagma Square and headed over to the parking lot-turned-community park that a number of activists had taken over after it had been boarded up and cleared of some of the city’s oldest trees a year or so ago. The park was full of life - both plant and human, and it was very clear that it was an asset to the community. That said, it faces it’s own share of problems being located in what Fotini had deemed, ‘the asshole of Athens’. Kristos brought me by to show me the cob structure he had begun there.

He had returned from the workshop at Lefkada to find it had been vandalized - not exactly the most welcoming home coming. We talked about design ideas for the roof and finishing and were joined by Ilias and Rosa. After an hour or so there, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. Again, so good to know that there are bastions of light in a place full of so much decay.

With another four plus hours left before my train, I found a cafe, ordered a fancy coffee shake, enjoyed it in the fresh air under an umbrella, and finally made my way to the train station. I passed a few more hours there, boarded the train, found my seat and slept through till we arrived in Thessaloniki in the morning.

Nea Makri Pt. 2

Another slow morning as the kids were whisked off to school. We said quick goodbyes, and I then had the house to myself for a few hours. When Stamatina returned, we shared photos and reflections until she had to leave to pick them back up. I set out around 1:30 to meet with Nicos Anastasoupoulos in the center of Athens.

As I struck out in Athens for the first time since returning, I found it all a bit overwhelming. Having been nurtured by an enriching, sheltered community of kind, caring people for the previous week that felt like a month, it was a bit disheartening to return to the reality of megapolian life. Our little cob construction seemed like less than a blip on the enormous flat screen TV of modern global capitalistic society - but I clung to the recognition of the dendritic expansion of skills and good will that I know will result from our time together.

I forgot Nicos’ metro stop, guessed it wrong and had to make my way back around. We met and caught up over a sumptuous feast of tiny friend fish, tzatziki, french friends, salad, calamari, wine… He told me about the interesting challenges of his new unpaid post as the director of a national park in Nea Makri - home to an endangered species of pine - with a challenging set of reproductive needs. The cones and seeds are activated by fire, something human management tends to suppress. Thus, in its absence, the pines are failing to regenerate. So the question then becomes, how to maintain the population? It’s the classic conservation-mindset catch-22. When we start to manage ecosystems, taking them out of their natural reproductive ecology, we create considerable work for ourselves. It seemed to me that the problem is much greater - not so much just this one endangered forest, but the fact that now it’s up to us to ‘preserve’ this tiny fragment of a much more widely damaged regional ecology.

After a few hours, it was time for us to head to Nea Makri for my evening presentation on natural building, permaculture and our workshop the previous week. I caught some welcome sleep on the bus ride and our stop cam e a bit early for my liking. It was an interesting community space - great for events like ours. Stadium style (kids-size) seating, a bar, a stage… About twenty people showed up with about ten familiar workshop participant faces. The talk seemed very well received and we got some wonderful feedback from folks, learning a bit about some of the similar building buildings traditions from other parts of Greece.

Afterwards about ten of us went out for dinner and wine (a veritable feast) along the water’s edge. Great food, good conversation, friends and wine coalesced into a valuable exchange. I sat next to Dimitris Tsangis, who ironically enough, I had contacted a week earlier through a connection with the UK’s Permaculture Magazine because of his interest in finding a teacher to host a Permaculture Design Course in Greece. Very very small world.

Nicos and I got a ride back to his place in Nea Makri where we went to sleep around 1:30

Sit-Up Sleepin' - Monday, April 12

I woke up around four or so to friends gathered around telling me I’d been snoring - but on top of that, I’d actually fallen asleep ‘mid-sit-up’ - as in my hands held my head slightly elevated off the floor. Apparently it only lasted for a few minutes but perhaps it spoke both to m absolute exhaustion coupled with my deep desire to connect and engage with friends. I shifted to my bed to finish up the night in a bit more comfort.

Come morning I set to work cleaning up and organizing the site. The wind had again shifted from the south (it had been primarily northerly all week except for the second or third day of the workshop, when it came from the south). Gradually our extended ‘family’ arose and we tidied things up all around. It was a leisure-filled start to the day and I was reminded again that we were on Greek time.

We worked hard to make the incredible desserts (cherry cheesecake and banana crumble-something) disappear and by two or so, we were off. A few stayed behind on the island to explore and camp, but Alex, Stamatina, Hermes, Anna and I all made our way back to Athens.

I was exhausted and found myself fading in and out of consciousness. About half way, we stopped at a sweet little taverna for souvlaki and beer. It was a very nice break along the way. Across the street, next to the community spring, sat a few strawberry farmers, and I recalled my desire to buy some the week before on the way into Lefkada. I picked up 3 kg for 5 Euros and we were back off.

Alex made relatively short work of the rest of the trip. I’ve grown much more comfortable with his driving and our occasional stints of 180 km/h. We arrived in Athens just as the sun began to go down. We all retreated into our own spaces to relax, reconnect and resume our recently forgotten personal lives. I spent hours catching up on the e-mail backlog now nearly two weeks old. I was sound asleep sometime between three and four am.

The Workshop

Details to come...

Monday April 5th - the day before (the workshop)

Another gorgeous day. It started off at a reasonable hour and I basically got right at it foundationing. I got a couple of mixes ready to go, started laying out stone and then met up with Alex for our morning cup of coffee. As I write this, I'm sad to think that this was likely our last ritual for the foreseeable future.

We got right into it, Alex filling in the spaces between stones with me following behind, setting the second course in mortar. I had to let things get a little sloppy but there was time for little else. I had hoped to get into town to get on-line and upload some of these blogs posts but I didn't have any time for that of course. Not much to say really except that we went on with the foundation pretty full on for the next three hours or so, taking our breakfast break around 11:30. It was hard to believe the day was passing that quickly.

Alex had remarked at a change in the weather, highlighting the fact that it was pretty unlikely to see 10 straight sunny days this time of year (the past four had been gorgeous - we had six more to go before the workshop is over). I told him not to jinx us but as the day moved on, the northerly/easterly breeze and on-coming clouds seemed to indicate that our luck might soon be running out. I couldn't help but feel a bit of desperation as we strove to finish the lagging foundation (well, it wasn't exactly lagging, it just seemed to keep growing).

Most of the rest of the day was/is a blur. We stopped for an excellent lunch around 3:30 or so I think and that's when the first carload of folks arrived. Five Athenians - Teo, Maria, Maria, Kostas and Fotini. It was reliving to see things starting to come together. We talked a bit about the building and then set to cleaning up, moving all the existing stone off to the side of the site and roughly grading (removing the rubble) from some of our prime building sites.

Before I knew it, we had a full on crew - I'm still not sure how many people are here. It's hard to tell but the number must be well over 20 at this point. They all seem great and I can feel it's going to be a great week. I bounced from conversation to conversation after our evening meal and through tea and felt like an absolute outsider being one of the only ones not smoking (not really, but I did notice that I seemed to be the only non-smoker here.)

I should be in bed so I think I'm going to get there. Looking forward to seeing what tomorrow brings.