20 Apr 2015

Kos

Grumpy mornings

For the last leg of my journey through Greece I took a ferry from Santorini to the island of Kos. Kos is actually so close to the Turkish coast that most people tend to assume the island is part of Turkey. It is also what you might call a tourist shithole. But since it was pre-season still, I resolved to try my luck before escaping to Turkey.

So I ended up taking a ferry from Santorini close to one o’clock in the morning. As I had chosen the cheapest ticket, I did not get a cabin like a civilized person would. Instead I boarded the ferry (yes, shiny blue ferry!) with a handful of bleary-eyed tourists and began looking for a cushioned, flat surface. The ferry had come all the way from Athens and stopped at several islands. Consequently, all the good spots were already taken. I resigned myself to a short stretch of couch I extended with a heavy high-backed chair. Voila!

Fleece rolled up as a pillow, rainjacket as a blanket and earplugs to give me peace and quiet.

Lesson 005: Earplugs! Unlike most of the other lessons, this is one I actually learned a while back. You can’t travel without earplugs. Maybe you think you can, because you’re an exceptionally heavy sleeper. But some day you’ll sleep in a dorm with a Romanian truck driver. Or on a boat with a broken muffler. Or there is a noisy civil war going on. In any of those cases, earplugs will keep you from rising grumpy.

I rose extremely grumpy. In part, because the entire night Greek action movies were blaring from a nearby TV and the occasial explosion must have reached my ear. Mostly though, because I knew we would arrive around 04:30h. Somehow knowing that I get to sleep very little makes it impossible for me to get any sleep whatsoever.

All in all I was not at my best as a grabbed my possessions and trudged down the stairs to the ferry’s gangway…at 04:30h. I remember standing inside the neon-lit belly of the ferry and viciously chewing on a piece of gym. Amidst the cars stood other passengers, few of them looked well-rested. Most of them must have felt just as exhausted as I did, but I was tired and therefor pissed off, so I glared at them angrily anyway.

Soon a klaxon rang out and the loading gate was lowered with an unnecessary amount of noise. Stupid klaxon, stupid loading gate. Looking out, Kos didn’t seem like anything special. Stupid Kos. Then again, I only saw the outlines of some buildings and a few yellow-ish streetlights. For a moment I was wondering: Why do I do this again?

Normally, my arrival protocol consists of sitting down for a cup of coffee and taking a moment to gather my wits. At 04:30h in the morning this wasn’t really an option and my wits felt pretty far gone anyway. Since I didn’t think I’d be able to check into any rooms, I decided to go for a walk around the port instead.

Grumpiness nonwithstanding, I began to wonder if I was onto something as I noticed the massive ancient stonewalls surrounding part of the port. Intrigued I took some detours and found myself striding through a silent park and through gates in the walls. The air was cool and rich with the smell of blooming trees and bushes. Just as I reached the other side of the port, the horizon lit up. I found myself staring at the sun rising over the Turkish coast in the distance. For half an hour I just stood there, watching as the sunlight washed over the harbor, the marina and the small cafes and restaurants on the promenade.

Right, THIS is why I’m doing this!

Suddenly a lot less grumpy, I wandered off towards the city centre, along the beach.

This, right here!

Considerably reassured about the purpose of my travels I found a place renting out apartments and sat down on the stairs overlooking the still street.

Eventually, a stately-looking lady opened the door and invited me in. Through a mixture of my roguish charme, my pityfully exhausted appearance and the fact that it was still pre-season, I managed to haggle the price down to half. And thus I got two nights in a double for 20 euros. After dumping my stuff I went for a walk and got breakfast. Then I took a long, luxurious nap.

Lazy days

I basically continued that nap, with minor interruptions, for two more days. Whenever I accidentally woke from my slumber - pesky biorythm! - I would go for a walk. The town looked about as empty as my brain felt, so I mostly stuck to the equally deserted beach. I passed the time wandering along the waterline and skipping flat stones over the waves. This mindless process of “See stone” -> “Grab stone” -> “Throw stone” -> “Repeat” proved almost meditative. Time begins to slow and eventually breaks down around you when you’re looking for that perfect stone and that perfect pitch.

At some point I foolishly attempted to streamline the logistics by gathering a big pile of suitable stones and then chucking them all in quick succession. Of course that’s a hugely efficient and Germanic thing to do. It also totally defeats the purpose of the exercise and almost left me with a dislocated shoulder. After that experience I ended up throwing with my weaker, left arm, which must have looked every bit as spastic as you would think.

Lesson 006: The secret to good skipping lies in both the stone and the throwing movement. You want a stone which is smooth and flat-ish. A certain amount of rounded bevel is necessary for it to skip upon contact with the waves, so shards of ceramic or flint don’t work. I find that a slightly oblong shape of about 8-10cm provides better leverage for my fingers, resulting in better spin and thus more jumps. For the throw, I prefer a looping sideways pitch with a neutral grip. Haha, did you suckers really just spend 3 minutes reading about a guy chucking rocks in the sea?

I also recall taking a long walk through Kos’ impressive marina. The entire thing was a charming mixture of clear blue water and…well, lots of boats. I don’t really know anything about boats. Most of them where white, relatively shiny and somewhere between “somewhat large” and “definitely very large indeed”.

Do you think this thing would be fast?

Looking decidedly out of place I resolved to walk around very purposefully. I also spent some serious time devising witty answers in case anybody asked me which one of the boats was mine. “Oh, just browsing, really. You got anything you’d recommend for whaling?” Unfortunately, I must have walked so purposefully that people were just too intimidated to stop and ask me.

I’m not ashamed to admit that the days in Kos were anything but productive (though I did manage to watch a series of videos on relational algebra). I’m lazy, so sue me!

After two days I began to feel that particular itch in my bones, telling me to move on. So I took a ferry from Kos over to Bodrum, Turkey.

Until next time,
Arne