Advertisement
Evy and I are up at 5:45 this morning to go the final packing and tidying before the 7:20 bus to town. It is a very cold morning as we wheel our suitcases the short distance down the road to the bus stop. It seems like so long ago that we made our first move like this back in August. In a week we will have been on the road for seven months.
Once again, the bus is a different price this morning, but I have sort of got used to that. Our next bus from Kastoria to Ioannina doesn't leave until 9:00 am, so we have almost an hour to kill when we get to town. We take turns going across the street to a restaurant to get coffee and sandwiches as we didn't want to use the kitchen in the apartment this morning.
In contrast to some of the buses we have taken over the last few months, today's bus is a gleaming new Mercedes and the driver is meticulously wiping down the tires with a rag as we board. The rules seem very tight on this one, and we are not allowed to bring on our
day- packs or any food. I manage to get my bag aboard pointing out that it has my camera in it. The bus pulled out of the parking lot at 9 am exactly.
Benjamin, who is sitting next to me, is reading his new book of Greek Myths as we head off down the the highway. After passing to one of two familiar towns, the highway winds up through wooded hillsides towards the snowcapped mountains. Occasionally the route dipped down again and passes through small villages before climbing once more.
The landscape seems remarkably monochromatic. There is a narrow range of shades of brown going from the chalky brownish rock to gnarly brown trees with greenish dry moss hanging from them, to the brown grass, flatten by the winter with hints of green beneath. Even the occasional terra cotta roofs of the village seem to fall into this strict colour code. It is as if the entire landscape is stuck between seasons, waiting for some invisible signal before emerging out of hibernation.
There was a slow, mournful Greek song playing on the radio as the bus gracefully waltzed from side to side up and down the curvy
mountain roads.
Shortly after 10 am, we passed the tidy and compact mountain town of Pandolofus before climbing higher again. Here there were icicles clinging to the exposed rock faces and snow in the woods. Later, the road descended again and the landscape changes to a green, jack pine forest. Another village appeared, tightly packed into a bowl shape valley below us.
Not long after this, we descended again from the mountain into a glacial valley. A river meandered through the wide gravel flatlands. As this valley widened, we were in a quilt work of farmland and, with green leaves on all the trees, it was as if we had suddenly arrived in springtime with our descent from the mountain.
About 12:30 we pulled into the town of Ioannina, an attractive place surrounded by snow capped mountains. We were able to buy the tickets for our next destination, Preveza, without any problems and had an hour before that next bus. With blossoming trees and the mountains in the distance, this has to be the most attractive setting for a bus station we have seen yet.
On the next bus we left the valley behind and climbed
another mountain range, before descending one last time to a valley. Here a wide river meandered between beach trees. It looked quiet and pastoral, like an illustration out of a Beatrix Potter book. Certainly a much gentler version of a forest than at home in Canada. We passed into agricultural land passing alternating orchards of Olive trees, lemon trees, and orange trees. Now the mountains were only bluish outlines in the distance.
About 3:15 we saw the ocean, but were still in a marshy delta area, though we could see the silhouettes of hilly islands in the distance. We passed the ruins of an old fort with canons pointed out towards the sea. Between the olive trees, a sea of small purple flowers seemed to outline the contours in the land.
By about 3:30 we were in the town a Preveza, a short 30 km from Lefkada, though the next bus wasn't for and hour and a quarter. My Aunt Helen called and we were able to tell her that we had made all 4 bus connections and that we would be in on time to make the final bus from Lefkada to Nidri.
As we approached
Lefkada on this next bus, we went through a tunnel that goes under the sea before coming back up to follow a marshy lowland strip of land. The wind had whipped up whitecaps on the bay to the North. We crossed a final draw bridge and could see a sea of masts marking the first marina. The town looks very polished an tourist ready and I am sure it is packed in the summer months.
Pulling into the bus station, we spot my Aunt Helen before the bus even stopped, and after a quick hug she let us know that she had manage to hold the 5:30 bus for us so we quickly move our bags to our 5th and final bus of the day.
Aunt Helen gave a running commentary of the local points of interest as we drove through Lefkada. She pointed out the direction of the town that she first lived in here 20 years ago, as well as the house that she once house sat. I found it interesting to finally have more than just a mental picture of where she had lived.
We reached Nidri quicker than I thought we would, and
carried our bags up to our apartment. Though it is on the second floor and overlooking the harbour, in layout it is much like the bungalows that we used to rent in New Zealand. It is a large room with a double and two single beds, a two burner cooker, sink, cupboard and small fridge as well as a bathroom. Aunt Helen had even picked flowers for us and bought some fruit and bread to get us started. It is just what we need and has a great view of the harbour.
Aunt Helen left to catch the final bus to her town. Evy and I walked up the road and picked up some takeout souvlakis and pitas for dinner. We spent the evening relaxing and recharging after a long day.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.08s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 11; qc: 29; dbt: 0.0522s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb