Well I'm in Rome.
No it's not that simple.
Since I last posted on this blog, I have not shaved, showered or changed clothes. In fact, I have spent almost the entire intervening time on a ferry, bus or train, waiting for a ferry, bus or train, or trying to find a ferry, bus or train.
So here's the story:
I foolishly decided to save 10 euros by taking the slowest ferry in the world from Ios, leaving at the ludicrous time of 10:15am.
Obviously I was never going to wake up in time for that, so I decided to stay up. Good plan.
Defying all logic, I actually did make it onto this ferry, but totally unprepared for the 11 hour journey past just about every island in the Meditteranean before reaching athens.
I was drunk, had no food, no water, and I hadn't slept in 20 hours. The ferry ride was not fun!
In addition to this, I had neglected to think about what I was going to do once I arrived in Athens. I was fortunate in this respect - just after disembarking, I met somebody who was going to a hostel (I couldn't go to the one I had already stayed in because I know it's fully booked every night). So I followed him. The train wasn't working, so we had to take a bus, etc., etc.
The hostel he took me to had no room, but they directed me to one nearby that did.
I collapsed upon arrival, and woke up just before check-out time. No shower for me.
Now, in hindsight, I should have taken another night at this hostel (even though it was pretty amazingly awful). But I didn't, I decided to walk to the train station, even though I had no idea where it was.
But I found it. Eventually. I should remind you at this point that it is over 30 degrees every day in Greece - I am drenched in sweat.
In typical Greek fashion, it was soon revealed that you can't actually buy train tickets at the train station. No no, you have to go over to the other side of the city to buy your tickets and then come back.
So I went to the other side of the city, still not knowing where I actually wanted to take the train to.
Anyway, it was quickly revealed that Greek trains are useless. They go to few places, they are expensive, and very infrequent. So I decided, stuff that, I'm going to the bus stop.
I was vaguely aware that I had to take the 051 bus to get to the main bus stop, and I also knew where there was supposed to be a stop. Unfortunately, there was a sign (in Greek), which I eventually figured out to mean 'no more bus stop here'. Or something along those lines. Great? Great.
But I did find the bus in the end, and sure enough it took me to the national bus service station thing.
So I bought a ticket to Patras. Platform 45. There is no platform 45, the last one is 42. I look desperately, I ask people, who all point to the big building which does NOT contain platform 45.
Eventually, with 2 minutes left to find it, I find somebody who speaks English, and they tell me that platform 45... means... 28. Only in Greece. Or possibly Italy.
I just made it onto the bus in time and was able to relax for a few hours.
Compared to the bus fiasco, getting a ferry was the easiest thing in the world.
I walked into literally the first building I saw in Patra, and they happened to sell ferry tickets. 37 euro to Bari. Easy.
And no problem with platforms - you can't exactly miss a gigantic ferry (and it was gigantic - it even had a pool).
Having learned my lesson about ferry food (6 euro for an inedible mousaka), I found a place to have my last gyro, and also bought some tinned tuna, bread rolls and oranges from a supermarket.
Now... for some reason, I thought that the ferry to Bari took 21 hours. I was wrong.
When it got dark, I fell asleep on deck (using my sleeping bag for the first time). Surprisingly comfortable for a sheet of steel.
When I woke up, we had docked. It was only 10am, so I naturally assumed we must have stopped somewhere on the way to Bari, because Bari is 21 hours away... right?
No...
I casually stroll down to reception to look for a bathroom, and ask the receptionist where we are... Bari... ah...
I run back to the deck, grab my sleeping bag, stuff, etc, no time to pack, and run off the boat just as they are about to leave again.
Phew.
But I didn't get far before being stopped by a policeman. I don't know what language he was talking to me in (it wasn't Italian), but I gathered he wanted my passport, so I showed him. He stared at it for a long time, and at me, and eventually asked me, in perfect English, "You're British?"
"Yeah..."
He stares a bit longer.
Getting creeped out now...
Suddenly he offers me a flurry of apologies, that he didn't realise I was british. Ok...
I'm wondering what the hell just happened when I finally find a bathroom, and it dawns on me why I may have looked a tad suspect. My hair is all over the place, my breath smells like tuna, the skin on my hands is peeling from sunburn, it's been ages since I shaved and I smell... SO bad.
In short, I look like something from a b-grade horror flick.
I clean myself up a bit and go on my way.
Somehow I make it to Bari train station, and from there I book a train to Rome. It's a 1 hour wait for first class eurostar... or 5 hours for second class regional. I went the cheaper option.
I decided not to make the mistake I had last time, and found an internet cafe to book a hostel in Rome. Glad I did.
And... now I'm there. At 1am, waiting for somebody to come out of the bathroom so I can finally brush my teeth at least.
Think I'll stay here for a couple of days to get my bearings a bit.
