Now that's what I call a Vacation!

Did I mention this would be sporadically updated? Not that I really have time to be writing this, but before the memories are lost...

Greece. Oh what a wonderful place. Ok, maybe my perspective is slightly skewed because the only place I really spent any time is an island in the north Aegean called Thassos. It's not quite the tourist trap that some of the other islands are further south. In fact, since it was a four-day weekend for the country of Bulgaria, it seems as if the majority of the people there were Bulgarian.

Thassos was everything you'd expect a Greek Island to be. Beautiful blue skies, clear pristine water, topless beaches (not that there were many people you wanted to see topless there, but there were some), good beer, and great food! Oh, and let's throw in ancient (and I do really mean ancient; they got real history here) ruins to crawl over, and Vespas to ride around at our leisure. And I'm not sure we could have asked for better weather. This is part where you go down the bottom of the post, click the link that says "moment of envy", and say something about how cool and idyllic the whole scenario is. But, of course if I just waxed poetic about how perfect the whole trip was, that would just be boring...and of course there's always stories of adventure and adversity to keep things interesting.

So let's start with the drive. If you have ever had the pleasure of driving down Haight St. in SF on a tourist and tranny-filled Sunday afternoon, dodging addicts, rubber-neckers, and the accordion style buses that make their own lanes, then you have driven the training course for your average street in Sofia. The couple we drove down with are a bunch of fun-loving Canadians who have been working at the college for going on their 6th year. Last year they bought a 25-year old Volkswagon from a previous teacher who had bought it from one of the Bulgarian Phys Ed teachers. This car is old. This car is sometimes worrisome in driving just to downtown Sofia. This car was not going to get us to Greece. In fact, when the owner and I used it to go pick up the rental car, we weren't even sure it was going to get us to the rental shop. In a torrential downpour (making every taxi unavailable) we drove the Volkswagon, shuttering and shaking, 2 hours to the rental place! Why the hell would we drive 2 hours just to rent a car? Two reasons: 1) Greece is 6 hours away, and the VW surely wasn't going to make that, and 2) it really wasn't that far away! The traffic to get there was so bad due to the rain and normal Friday afternoon traffic, and add on that it was a 4-day weekend for the entire country, and the street outside the College looked like the 405 freeway on Labor Day weekend! (That reference was for all my SoCal readers, you know what I'm talking about.) It was so bad that just the first hour alone only got us 1/4 of a mile. A QUARTER OF A MILE, people! Wait, it gets better. We finally make it to the rental shop and pick up the car, but by this time I'm so hungry that I'm digesting my insides. My buddy tells me, "no problem, there's a hot dog stand just up the road. We can walk there." Evidently, the Bulgarians didn't receive the memo on a couple of things. One of the things is kinda cool. The other, not so much. The first is the hot dog bun (I'm not sure about the hot dog, cause I still haven't had one, but I'll get to that). So, the bun...in America, the bun is sliced in half, with the bottom still connected, and the dog rests comfortably nestled between the soft, bready goodness. In Bulgaria, the poor bun is impaled on a spike, driving a gaping hole lengthwise into the bun, where the dog is slipped inside to become one with the bread. A pretty cool concept! I wonder if this was Eddie Izzard's inspiration on how to serve babies? (That's for the few if you that will get that reference.) Anyways, I was super excited to both try this new method of hot dog cuisine, and cease the digesting of my own stomach when we hit a small snag. We were effectively 3rd & 4th in line, but before long it became readily apparent that #s 1 & 2 were not moving. It seems that the second thing Bulgaria missed the memo on was customer service. The lone lady working in the hot dog stand, that was the size of a parking lot attendant booth, decided that NOW was the perfect time to take a smoke break. And she didn't even leave the booth to do it! So, here we are, 4 semi-starving people, cash in hand, drooling over hot dogs with cool new buns, and the smoking lady is not only taking in the scenery, but is also getting indignant that we want to purchase her hot dogs! So in an exercise of pure American capitalism, my buddy and I walked 50 more feet to a dunner (it's like a gyro with fries in it) stand and were served by two Syrian guys who were so pleasant that we went back when we returned the car. The next day I drove 9 hours though the countryside of Bulgaria and northern Greece where a ferry the size of a football field swallowed the car into its underbelly (seriously, these guys know how to pack them in), and took us to our island destination. Which brings us to the ATM issue.

Amanda and I were blessed with some luck in getting some premium account from our bank that we not only don't technically qualify for, but will let us take out money from any ATM in the world with no fees or exchange rates. Sweet, right? It is when the ATMs work. So I go to the only ATM in the area to pull out some money for our Greek island excursion, and the damn thing won't give me money! But, of course, everything on the screen is in Greek, so I can't read it to figure out why. A quick scan through my memory recalls that I told my bank that I would be going to Greece within the first week of being there (an orientation trip was originally scheduled by the school, but was canceled right before we left the states). It's now almost a month into our move, and we're finally getting around to taking that trip, but perhaps the bank isn't "privy to all the new $#|+". Thinking they've placed a hold on my card, there is nothing I can do that day but borrow from some friends and go looking for an Internet cafe to Skype my bank the next day. Not a big problem, it would seem.

As a group we hit this great little restaurant, where I have some of the best calamari I have ever tasted, and two of my compatriots proceed to take down some Ouzo, the Greek national drink. Ouzo is an interesting liquor. If you've ever said to yourself, "self, what I would really like is some black liquorice, but I don't want to actually chew it and get it all stuck in my teeth and turn them black. Maybe if I blend them up into a purée, strain out all of the chunky bits, as well as the color, and then let it forment until it could get me REALLY drunk, then I could drink it. But who likes concentrated, clear, black liquorice purée warm? I know, I'll drop one ice cube in the liquid until it turns all murky white and looks like skim milk - black liqurice flavored skim milk - and them I'll sip it until I either vomit or pass out." Sounds like a national drink to me. My friends put away a litre. Then decided to play poker. I won 30 bucks that night.

The next morning I took Amanda's laptop (yes, Amanda brought her laptop to Greece, don't ask) and went hunting for an Internet cafe around 11am. Funny thing about island life, nothing is open in the morning hours. The one place that I as able to find with someone in it was a cafe/art gallery that didn't even serve coffee until 4pm. The only reason the woman was even there was so she could check her Facebook. After wondering for an hour, then pleading with her to let me use her wireless, I was finally able to call my bank. And you know what I found out? It wasn't my card, the damn ATM was just out of money! (I only know thus because when I found out they hadn't locked my card, I went back to the ATM only to find a Greek person there who was having the same problem, but could read the screen.) Thank goodness for generous friends who could float us some cash.

Other than this, the trip was fine. We ate at the same restaurant for two nights in a row and made friends with the owners, their crying 5-year old son, and the local feral cat that was very friendly when you pet it, but had horrible gas. We had some incredible gyros. And I don't know if it was because we were a large group of tourists willing to spend some money, or the Greeks are an overly friendly people as long as you aren't Turkish, or if it was just our charm and good looks, but everyplace we went, people gave us free food. We got free desserts everywhere, including a free cordial of lemonchello after lunch at the gyro stand!

The highlight of the trip, however, was by far the Vespa rides. On our third day we rented Vespas from the same place that I was able to get wireless from (this place did it all). Total cost for a full-day rental of 3 Vespas: $25.00. Beautiful. All I had to do was convince the guy renting them (the helpful girl wasn't working that day) that I knew how to ride one. After a rather brazen display of "of course I know how to ride one, I'm just a bit rusty, which is why I almost hit that parked car," we were on our way winding around this beautiful Greek paradise to go see some sites - monasteries on cliffs, topless beaches, and really old Greek ruins. In case you hadn't guessed by now, I'd never really ridden one of these things before, but I did manage to get Amanda and myself to all of the wonderful destinations without injury. Go me. The rest of the day was spent at all of these incredible places, sunning and enjoying ourselves, with our final destination a resort beach on the south side of the island where this tiny cafe served delicious cappuchinos and homemade ice cream. This cafe happens to be the only place where I've ever had the privlidge of talking to an Australian cab driver from Germany. Yes, that's right, he was an older German man who had spent the last 15 years driving a cab in Australia. Talk about your fun accents! Turns out his son owned the cafe. We got free food there too.



Now you would think that after just a few days in near-paradise, coming back to the land of stray dogs and backwards head gestures would be a little disheartening, but I have to admit, there was something quite nice about reentering Bulgaria. Sure, when I first crossed the border into Greece 4 days prior I commented on how it seemed that some had turned the color on, but maybe it was the fact that I could identify the letters on the road signs (not that I know what they mean yet), or maybe it was that the exchange rate was now 1 lv = $0.75 instead of $1 = €0.60, or maybe, just maybe, it was te sense of home that we were quickly developing in our new country. Either way, it was good to be back. But, damn, what a great vacation!

Until next time,


Views of Stara Potamia on Thassos

Why there are no bad children on Thassos


Views of the Villa we stayed at

Warning...Friendly Stanky Cat!

"If you wanna go and take a rid wit me..."

Jaime, Amanda, Rich, and I kickin' it Thassos-style!


Nazdrave!