Having called my Kenyan-born friend’s friend a few days before arrival, and having his home and cell number, i don’t expect much problem reaching him. His work ends at 11pm, and my plane lands at 11:30, so the timing should be just right – wrong. I call several times, even cautiously ringing the house once, hoping i’m not waking up the family, but get no answer.
A 50-something year old tout latches onto me after the bus lets us out at Syntagma square, the main square in Athens. He asks “ladies?” I tell him “No, hotel or internet cafe”. He points down the street, tells me a name, and then points up the street to a internet cafe, then, while walking with me, asks me to buy him a pack of cigarretes. “They only cost 4 or 5 euros”. What a joke, i respond by giving him a one euro coin for his 20 seconds of trouble, and when he spits out “Stingy” after me, i almost turn back to ask him to return it if he doesn’t want it, but just ignore him, and walk up to the internet cafe. The lady in Malaysia is pleading for the cover artwork for the book to be printed soon, but no one here has a usb port, so i am out of luck.
I walk around a while, into one little hotel where the deskclerk says “60euros”, and then calls out to my quickly receeding back “How much you want to pay?” I don’t even bother. I know there are places in town where you can stay for 15euros, and am not going to spend one week’s worth of sleeping bills in one nite. Haggling is not my thing in the first place, plus, it is pushing 1am, and i don’t want any of this. I walk around a bit with my suitcase with the laptop bag strapped on top, and my 6 – 7kg backpack for an hour or so, finally making my place on a park bench after determining that it will probably be safe. There are people in nearby restaurants cleaning up, subway workers walking around once in a while, people talking on benches not far away, and it is lit up very well. Good choice, except that it gets a little cold towards morning. Sleep grabs me for around 2 hours, i put on another shirt and pair of socks, and next thing i know it is morning with people streaming past me, and the sun warming up my bones – nice. 4 hours of sleep sure beats 0 like the nite spent outside in London, and while not functioning 100%, i’m at around 60-70% i guess.
A quick walk around the cafes reveals nothing hot or delicious-looking for anything resembling a reasonable price, so i just eat some dried dates getting old that i brought from India, some bread left from the airplane meal, and some pnuts – yum. It’s been 2 1/2 days since my last hot meal, not counting a piece of pizza that was slightly warm. Little do i know that it will be another 2 1/2 days before i get a real warm meal again.
The internet shop people are rude, and charge 2euro/hour which is outrageously high, but they do display Japanese characters, and i really want to reach my friend in Switzerland who set this up for me, so shell out the cash. Later if find lots of places off the beaten track that are 1euro/hr.
Going to the tourist information center and asking which bus goes to the SDA Greek Mission elicits a “take a taxi” response, which warms me up a little. They actually answer me correctly when i ask for a map, for which i am thankful. The buses are nice, and the subway is excellent, probably done up for the Olympics 2 years ago, but sometimes things are not on time. After waiting about an hour, i give up on the one that should take me the closest, and walk to the next one which comes quickly. All this was done with my full suitcase and computer bag and backpack, so i am getting quite tired.
The Mission Office is easily found, and pressing all the buzzers finally gets to one that agrees to open the door by remote. There is a man and woman talking inside, and they start talking with me when i come in. Evidently our conversation is too long for the secretary who let me in, and she comes down from the 3rd floor (4th in American and Japanese counting systems) looking for me, and leads me up to the Graphics office. The publishing director is out of the country, as he had told me before, and she tells me to come back the next day for an interview. She graciously allows me to leave the suitcase on the ground floor, so i am very relieved to be able to move around without lugging that.
I find a hotel with 4 beds per room, for 15euro/nite. It is nice, and within a 15 minute walk of the mission headquarters. I sack out, making up one hour of lost sleep time. The hotel is situated next to a busy intersection, and it is fun to watch the traffic below. Athens is dirtier than anywhere else i have been in Europe, and like India, you have to watch where you walk so as not to break a leg or worse.
The SDA church here is made up largely of foreigners, with an English section made up mostly of Africans and Filipinos, and a Bulgarian section, and a Romanian church included in the Mission compound. The reaction to me from the English-speaking members is the coldest of my whole trip so far. It’s like i have some plague or something, and they make it clear that they are not interested in what i have to show them from the 1858 Great Controversy book, but that as “Brothers in Christ”, they will find someone to put me up during my stay here. I express my appreciation, with a sad heart. Fortunately, the lone Filipino member in a leadership role IS very interested, and my last nite is spent at his house where he, his cousin, and wife eagerly soak up the inspired words.
It is quite a feeling to be standing on the exact rock where Paul stood in Acts 17, Aeropogas hill or something like that. What history this city has seen! The Christian and Byzantine museum is extremely interesting, and is about the only thing i remember spending money on this trip, by myself, that could be said to be “sightseeing”. But the information contained, the amazing, in-your-face realization that Christianity did not start as a “natural” thing that you take for granted in most countries of the world today, but that it had to overcome extremely deep-entrenched pagan rituals and culture, and eventually overthrew the physical structures, while, sadly, accepting some of the pagan ideas….
I go out early to the port to catch my ferry to Chios, as there is no direct service it seems between feuding Greece and Turkey, thinking i have plenty of time (over 1 hour). But there are no signs to which boat goes where, so i head off in one direction. Not right. I go a different way, not right. It is warming up very rapidly, and i’m pulling a 3-wheeled suitcase with a backpack on my back. I ask nearly everyone, and the general consensus is that it is “way around there”. I start to get worried with only about 30 minutes left. The last little bit sees me quite concerned, and nearly running, as i finally see my big ferry squeezed between 2 even larger ferries. All in all, i probably walked over 2km around the harbor to get here from the train station. whew! Just glad to be on in time, and ready to travel again. Some obvious gypsies are sleeping on deck, and their kids are going around the passengers begging. We pass by some 3,000 or so year old temple, gleaming white on a hill overlooking the azure sea……nice.
The hotel is run by an Australian, who is very anti-capitalistic, but when i mention something about a discount, he becomes very pro-capitalistic – haha. I buy some spinach and cheese filled pastry, and eat at the side of the road overlooking the harbor. The temptation to spend one more day here and just relax and enjoy is there, but knowing that 20euros a nite is going down the tubes just so i can lay flat for 8 hours is enough to propel me to the tiny, old ferry to Turkey in the morning. The picturesque island slowly receded behind the azure ripples as we cross the imaginary line in the water where someone determined that Greece ends, and Turkey begins.
NOTE: Post written November 3, 2006