25 Mar 2015

Meteora (according to my GPS at least)

After starting my journey in Thessaloniki, I went to see the famous monastries at Meteora. And by “see” I mean “not see”.

Arriving

I tried to escape the horrid weather in Thessaloniki by hopping on a coach to Trikala, the largest city in the vincinity of Meteora. Thus I squeezed myself on a bus to the coach station in the far west of the city, and managed to sit down between two middle-aged local ladies who spent most of the drive screaming at each other, not at all bothered by me sitting right in the midst of it all. At the coach station I bought a surprisingly cheap ticket (18 euros) and boarded a modern bus for the ~4-hour journey to Trikala.

As to the drive, I remember three parts: Firstly, the part where many of the cities along the way had a flair of closed-down theme parks. Empty office buildings and shops, deserted houses and a state of general disrepair. I have been told this is due to the timing, it being off-season and all, but I’m not sure I believe that explanation: Much of the forlorn atmosphere seemed to be more structural than seasonal. Many facettes of neglect looked way too long-running to be explained by simple seasonality. That’s not a theme park waiting for visitors, that’s one where the clown’s run off and the bear sold its bicycle for liquor.

Secondly, the part where I inevitably fell asleep. Something about the warmth and the rocking movement makes it impossible for me to stay awake on a bus - any mode of transport, really. So I slept for a solid two hours in what I must assume was the typical “head back & mouth wide open” position. Travel in style!

Thirdly, the part where I saw beautiful regions of northern Greece. Mountains, cliffs, winding roads and wide, open fields and lots of springtime greenery. The bus zipped along a smooth highway with sloping hills on both sides. After a few hours of that, the sun began to set. Touched by the evening sun, the entire landscape began to look every bit as green and warm as I had expected Greece to be.

Germanic invasion

Good thing though that it began to rain as soon as we reached Trikala. I managed to catch a minibus to the city centre and I also managed to get absolutely soaked on the 500m walk to my hostel. I grabbed another guest who had arrived on the same bus as me (a Canadian…ha, for once not a German!) and we got Dinner. As we got back, two new guys had arrived in our room. Germans, go figure. I remember turning to the Canadian guy and saying something along the lines of “don’t worry, we won’t be speaking German all the time…” He expressed his gratitude in fluent German. Turns out he was binational, raised speaking both languages.

If the four of us hadn’ gotten along so well, I probably would have been a bit annoyed by now. Sure, there are 81 million of us, but…come on!

Good times, bad times

The next morning the four of us shuffled to the bus stop and got our tickets to Karam Kalam(Meh, I’ll look this up later) where…it was raining. On top of the rain there was also a hint of fog. Consequently, we decided to share a cab to the main monastry up on the highest hill around.

To understand my feelings about this excursion, you have to understand my reason for being in Meteora in the first place: People recommended it to me, describing the views there using words such as “stunning”, “amazing” and “mesmerizing”. A quick Google search confirmed that: Google Image search

I on the other hand would desribe the view as “what?” I didn’t see shit. The fog we had noticed at the foot of the mountain was a joke compared to the thick, nebulous wall encircling the world at the peak.

So, behold the magnificence that is impenetrable fog:

The plaza in front of the biggest monastry

The entrance of said monastry

Undaunted, the four of us walked down the road through the mountains, back to Karambaka (sic? Just google it!). Along the way we visited the second-largest monastry, which seemed to be under construction at the time.

The view down from the tower

Amazed, we entered the main sanctum of the monastry, a set of small rooms holding reliquies, with every inch of wall filled with intricate carvings and every inch of roof covered in paintings. As we stood there, awestruck by the opulence and the significance, a monks’ choir began to fill the air with a solemn hymn. That turned out to be played through speakers from a nearby boombox, but a good attempt nonetheless!

On our way out, we passed through a gift shop larger than the monastry itself with all kinds of Meteora-themed crap and - behold! - a pink crucifix nightlight!

Apart from the weather, we were in a rather cheerful mood, taking the overall situation with a large dose of gallows humour. Below a certain altitude, the fog cleared and even the rain died down to a drizzle. This allowed for some interesting shots of the unique rock formations in the landscape below. The positive atmosphere coupled with the rather gloomy-looking landscape led to some weirdly contrastful pictures (think Hound of Baskerville, but cheerful):

20 miles to Mordor!

Wet but happy enough, apparently.

Down in town we just so managed to catch the next bus back to Trikala. The walk from the place we ate lunch at back to hostel became a race: We were all cold and wet and we knew very well that there was only one shower at the hostel. I must have stayed in that shower until I looked like a lobster robbed of its shell. By that time, two more Germans had arrived at the hostel, surprising no one.

The rest of the day was passed in the hostel, downing coffee and reading. A pity, really, since Trikala seemed like a nice little town, but we had all just about had it with that rain.

So yes, I was in Meteora, according to the best of my knowledge. Can’t say I saw much of the place though…

Lesson 002: Leather boots are well-suited for rain. Wait, no: well-maintained leather boots are. What I’m saying is: Keep your boots well maintained, or else you might get very wet feet and also very wet boots. Leather boots dry very slowly once they are wet. If you’re traveling with only one pair of boots, you really have no excuse for not taking care of them. I’m off to buy some wax…I really hope these things are dry when I come back.

Until next time,
Arne