On the Bus to Patra

 Makaila sits near the Temple of Zeus as we bid Athens good-bye.

Transition day. We are leaving Athens and heading for the western city of Patra on the Peloponnese.

The hotel clerk told us to "just flag down a cab out front and tell them to take you to the bus station."
Great I can do that.
We go out front and flag down a cab and I say to the driver, "Take us to the bus station."
And he says, "Which bus station?"
Hmmmm. Wasn't aware there were more than one.
"Bus to Patra!" I improvise.
"Good, we go!" says the driver.
And we did.

Bus stations in any country, especially if you do not know the language, make airports look like the silent reading room of your local library. Usually the bus stations are a sea of humanity with people from all walks of life urgently making their demands on hassled ticket takers and bus drivers. Often times the buses are not clearly marked and so you wonder if your bus is really going to Dussledorf when you want the one to Frankenmuth. (Though, if I recall correctly, the Germans were pretty organized in their bus stations, but the ones in India and Zambia were not.) This particular Athens bus station was pretty good. Granted, it would not be confused with the lobby of the local Hilton but the Patra sign said "Patra" and boarding gate #28 said, "Boarding Gate #28 and seat #35 said, "Seat #35" and we were off. I'm sure we were mistaken for native Greeks. Actually not, we don't have a cell phone and everyone else on the bus did. They each must have had two or three. The next three hours was a constant beeping and buzzing and ringtones-ringing bus ride to Patra. Jackhammer operators have it more sedate.

I was not prepared for the sheer beauty of the drive from Athens to Patra. We rode in a nice bus along the sea. The snow capped peaks were always in sight and the water was a blue that I had never seen before. After awhile I realized that this very much reminded me of areas out around Seattle and the Puget Sound, maybe over on the Olympic Peninsula near the Pacific.

The highway and the journey looked like any other American highway drive with its BP stations and McDonalds. We wove our bus through three other smaller towns along the way to make quick stops for passengers. The amazing thing was that the driver could thread us through the tiny streets in that bus.

Patra. We made it.

Along the wharf are the huge ferry boats which head to the Greek Isles and to Italy. On Tueday night we will be taking one to Bari, Italy. We have the reservation and only need to confirm it, which we do. But, we are realizing that since this is Winter there is little hassle for reservations and pricing. We are set for the ferry and so we check in at the hotel. This too is the same. Few tourists, so much so that the desk clerk takes an hour on my computer to try and figure out why the hotel's Wifi service is blocked by my computer. He never does figure it out and so we resort to plug in. But, how many hoteliers would take that sort of time in August and he is probably thinking, "What sort of American comes to Patra in February?"

Some travel guide referred to Patra as the "Front Door to Greece." Lots of tourists come on the ferries from Italy. The thing is, we must have come in through the back door to Greece by entering at the Northern boarder from Istanbul, Turkey. So we entered through the back door and leave from the front door.

Patra is completely different than Athens or Thessaloniki. The streets have a more Mediterranean feel to them....I simply don't know what else to say. It's a tourist town and built into a mountain. In one part of town are the ruins of a Roman Amphitheatre and as I write this I hear the bells of one of the many Orthodox Churches. Like all Greek towns there are many Nigerians selling watches and pirated Hollywood movies and lots of Albanians. But it's clear that the city is a port for entry and leaving and that the downtown is tourist friendly, if someone empty this time of year.

We wander the town before dark and look around. I think we'll enjoy seeing more of it in the morning.

We'll be on the ferry tonight and have a hotel lined up for Bari, Italy on Wednesday night. Looking forward to the journey.

Peace,  Bob