Athens, Greece

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Note: nearly all pictures of my time in Greece were deleted due to a software glitch.

I believe if Athens were to run an ad campaign in the style of the typical market shop owner, it would go “you want old rock? We got old rocks!” There are so many fenced off ruins littering the place, at a glance it almost appears to be the sole attraction. I find it funny they charge foreigners to see some of these up close, as they look just as old and just as rocky from either side of the fence. Now don’t get me wrong, I like old bits of history as much as the next guy, but I feel more could have been done to capture one’s imagination. For example, they could have posted something explaining the significance of the ruins or re-erected the fallen pillars and assembled them back into something resembling what they once were rather than just leaving them scattered and broken as if a toddler had neglected to pick up his toy blocks all over the place. Having said that, I still went out and saw all the ruins; cause hey, old rocks.

Aside from the rocks, Athens is home to some of the best Souvlaki and Gyros one can lay their hands on. It is delicious and meaty and will almost consistently have you coming back for more. Luckily the best Souvlaki in town is just at the center of one of the more vibrant areas of the city, surrounded by flea markets, touristy shops, and long alleyways with street musicians and performers, so there is plenty of opportunity to come back to meat heaven between leisurely strolls.

Once you’ve had your fill of rocks and meat, you realize Athens is currently home to an active anti-establishment movement that organizes strikes and demonstrations through squats that have become a kind of ad-hoc headquarters. They play loud music, the lyrics of which plead the plights of the common man; and hand out leaflets that explain and justify their cause. After wondering around a bit, I find out they are to organize a demonstration (read: riot) the day my flight is set to leave from Athens to Tel-Aviv. At first I wonder if I’d be able to make my flight, but once I figure out a good escape route I think: hey, this could be fun. So I grab the nearest willing crazy tourist and we hit the streets. We see all stages of a good demonstration: preparation, organization, formation into ranks, marching, chanting, Molotov Cocktails, tear-gas, riot police, dispersion, regrouping, marching again, etc. Having watched the whole thing unfold from a rooftop café and from the streets, I feel my day complete. I leave my new riot partner in the capable hands of the riot and blitz to the hostel to get my bag and leave to the airport.

Meteora, Greece

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Note: nearly all pictures of my time in Greece were deleted due to a software glitch.

Meteora is a small town with a single unique attraction, monasteries built on high sheer cliffs. I recall being told its one of the most photographed locations in the world, and when you see the pictures it makes sense. Looking at these monasteries one gets images of a sophisticated yet secluded civilization, as if another Atlantis perhaps existed in the skies.

Alas, aside from this one attraction, Meteora does not have much to offer. They obviously cater to this one niche, and not much else. If this is a place one has in mind to visit, I recommend coming in very early, as the monasteries close early afternoon, spending the day, and getting out of town on the next available bus.

This plan, while great in theory, did not quite work out for me, as I decided to wait for the very last bus out of town, as it would have synchronized nicely with the night bus into Athens. Now at this late hour, there is not much in the way of a bus stop, passengers, or busses; so knowing where to wait is a little tricky. The bus was late and I was getting edgy, so I strayed a few meters from the area where the bus was to arrive to get a better look at the highway to see if I could spot it on the horizon. It was at this moment that the bus flashed by the station, and seeing there was no one standing there, decided to simply keep on going call it quits for the night. Chasing the bus did me little good, and I resorted to attempting to hitchhike to the next town, a mere 20km away, but too far away to walk and still catch the night bus to Athens. Clearly I was not pretty or desperate looking enough for this tactic to work in the middle of the night, from which I gathered an important lesson; at night, every hitchhiker appears to be a crazed serial killer.

Thessaloniki, Greece

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Note: nearly all pictures of my time in Greece were deleted due to a software glitch.

Thessaloniki is a small vibrant city on the north eastern coast of Greece near Turkey and Bulgaria. Its unique location gives rise to several unique oddities. One, is that the architecture is almost decidedly not Greek, or at least not what I would think of when thinking of Greece, but rather more Eastern-European. The other, is that unlike much of Greece, which is preoccupied with Gyros and Souvlaki, Thessaloniki is really into seafood. It is here that I’ve had one of the more interesting dishes to date; squid on rice, cooked in its own ink.

Food and architecture aside, Thessaloniki is simply a mountainous, vibrant city with a strong youth culture and interesting graffiti. I would recommend walking along the seaside boardwalk towards Thessaloniki’s iconic white tower, or wondering about the main square in the center of the city which features many interesting shops and restaurants with local live folk music that the locals actually sing to (given they’ve had the right amount of Ouzo).

On a somewhat random note, I happened to be in Thessaloniki during an international film festival. As is customary, many experimental and international films were shown.  While this is often fun, I do vividly recall one horrible set of short films set in different regions that played out like someone’s very old and boring homoerotic vacation slides. No plot, no dialog, just a bunch of different guys of different ethnicities playing with themselves in different places. Luckily, I was able to theater hop and watch something less boring.

Tirana, Albania

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Note: nearly all pictures of my time in Albania were deleted due to a software glitch.

The most common question you will ever hear about Albania is "where is it?", closely followed by "what is there to do there?". The answers are "just north-west of Greece" and "not much" respectively.
If asked why I decided to go there, the only honest answer I could muster is that I knew nothing about it, that it was close by, and that I was told I could hitchhike there without too much trouble.
The last part was only partly true; It took me three rides to get to the border with Albania, despite it being a short drive away. Once I crossed it, there was a significant walk until I reached anything mildly resembling civilization from which I could find another ride. The last ride was a long journey to Tirana, the capital city, with two interestin Albanians who did not speak a word of English. This lack of English turned out to be typical of the general population, which gave me reason to improve my pantomiming skills.

After performing the usual song and dance a few times, I started wondering at this staggering lack of English, and asked around. It seems for one reason or another, the country remained closed to much of the outside world until very recently, and as such, no one had much reason or opportunity to learn much English. This country's closed nature is also evident in the lack of the usual global corporations. You will not find a single McDonald's or KFC here, but you will find a Klonat and an AFC if you look for them. I did stumble across a mall near the center of the city with a few familiar brands, though I suspect most of the locals buy their wares at the local marketplaces (where one can find live chickens next to knock-off track-suits). It is these quaint and unusual details that give Tirana it's charms.

Travelling outside of Tirana in Albania gives you as nice a variety as one can ask for so long as you're willing to put up with dirt roads and buses that take forever. Kruje has neat cobble-stoned bazaars and a fortress-museum. Pellumbas is a tiny village at the base of a mountainous climb culminating in a drip cave. Durres offers a touristy Mediterranean shore with that unmistakable seaside smell. Berat, the city of a thousand windows, gives one a unique ancient feeling with a small town mentality. And finally, though it was too late for me to see Sarande, I was told it has a beautiful beach with excellent scuba-diving. With such diversity and pure unspoiled sights, it is no wonder that Albania came first in Lonely Planet's countries for 2011.

Ohrid, Macedonia

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Ah Ohrid, the jewel of Macedonia. Ohrid is one of those places that you would hardly ever think of visiting were it not for the whole hearted recommendations of other travelers. It is a small little village on the coast of a small lake which used to specialize in making fake pearl jewelry. Now it is mostly a small vacation spot with picturesque architecture, reasonably priced food, and ample forestry to stomp through. One wouldn't think there is much to see or do here... and they'd be right, but they'd still end up staying twice as long as planned.

Once here it simply becomes too easy to sit and relax, drink, smoke, and play chess for hours on end. While the general atmosphere in this town has much to do with this feeling, I believe that it was truly the people who sealed the deal. My dorm-mates were a couple of cool Brits who made Ohrid a home base of sorts; it was with these two that I bar-hopped, cycled around the lake, and went off trail on a nearby mountain. The hostel owners we these two lovable guys who would put together the occasional party or poker game with the locals, and introduce us to the local junk food. From time to time another person would come in or leave and we have our fun together.

Sofia, Bulgaria

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It was quite some time before I reached Sofia that the standard churches and museums ceased to move me; once you've seen so many, the novelty wears off. Luckily, there are a few interesting monasteries nearby which bring a flutter of excitement and awe to the jaded traveler. Among these is a beautiful complex of monasteries atop a nearby mountain. I'd be damned if I could remember the name, but if you're in the area, you really can't miss it. Its been rumored that these monasteries will house the weary traveler for a night or two; I haven't tested this personally, but if true, I can hardly think of a more picturesque place to spend the night.

It was here, in full view of mount nameless that I had my introduction to both the best and worst and Bulgarian cuisine. One of the more traditional starters in Bulgaria, and allegedly an excellent hangover cure, is the local tripe soup. The curvilinearly timid would be put off by the name alone. A few of my travel companions were not dissuaded and gave the dish a try; neither finished. The best description I can muster is of a thin filmy-oily looking gruel with chunks of tripe which have a texture akin to mushrooms and the flavor of a ranch. Why anyone would spend the time to prepare such a dish and then actually consume it is beyond me. My guess is that this is a relic from the times when people had to use every last part of the animal, and were either not very creative, or didn't think to simply give the scraps to the dog. Luckily, the best of Bulgarian cuisine is delicious enough to make up for such heinous crimes against food. It is some kind of thick cream drizzled with just a bit of honey; beautiful in it's simplicity.

As with any place, once you've had your fill of the mountains, monasteries and tasty desserts, it's time to hit the town. Through some strange stroke of luck I fell in with a few familiar faces and some locals who were more that willing to show us around to all the best places in town. For a good night about town I would highly recommend starting in the Ale House, a place where you pour your own beer off a metered tap right next to your table. They also serve decent food, and on select nights have some hot talent light up the stage. Once you've had your fill, you can wonder off to one of many themed clubs, but I would personally recommend something entirely different; Karaoke Bar. I don't know how this evolved , but the Bulgarians are way into Karaoke. The routines are polished, the vocals are on key, and everyone has their song; I have never seen Karaoke done so well. If you have the stones, and you think you have the talent, there may be no better place to sing amongst the very best.

Up next Macedonia.

Veliko Tirnovo, Bulgaria

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What can one say of Veliko Tirnovo? It was the old capital of the region before Bulgaria was formed, is where Christianity was translated into Cyrillic, has a nice fortress and a large park. There is one main street where most shops of interest can be found, and a university hidden somewhere in the park. It's small and picturesque. That about covers it.

This is not to say one cannot have fun here, but much of it will depend on the company you find. Luckily, I was fortunate to meet a few interesting people while staying at the local hostel. This first meeting was as strange as one could ask for, a communal haircut.

It was over lentil soup and beers that we decided that the girl who had the same haircut since time before time was to get a new style, and that we were to do it with a pair of dull scissors and a trimmer. Surprisingly, it was a significant improvement over the original hairstyle.

Once the haircut was done and out of the way with, we were free to wonder about the city and enjoy the sights, and then enjoy them again after a blizzard covered everything in fresh snow. We were all snowed in for a day or two,but one can certainly think of worse places for such things to happen.

Once the snow had melted, I decided to continue my journey heading west towards the new capital; Sofia.