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travel journal 2

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Day 2: 28 July 2007

“- Aici sunt masline. – Unde? – Aici sunt numai masline!”

Highways rule again. Chip card beeps and at 6 30 you are on your way. There is no traffic, but those who ride the roads in the morning deserve a “malaka”, because they are stupid and don’t know how to drive. After a one-day fight with the GPS, it works: “In 800 de metri virati la stanga.” “Viram pe mata.” “Prostule, nu viram noi la stanga”. Considering these sentences, the fight was just partially finished; still have to work on the stuff. But it deserves an average 8.

The arrival was a smooth one, after 6 years I saw the sea again. Tiny and curvy roads can kill you easily if you stare too much. On the way down to the sea I’ve listened to interesting family trees and stories about the Greeks from the States. What did they do and what do they do now. They have unions, lobby groups and I’ve couldn’t stop thinking about The Wire and the pollacks. Story about a grand grandfather: he went to the States, built up a restaurant chain, maximized profits, did everything well. He came back for a visit in Greece and he never left. Why? It was in 1914. This is unpleasant timing.

We went to a mountain village, where the youngest citizen that lives constantly there is 70 years old and the last wedding was 40 years ago. So they face extinction. The village is beautiful and everybody has air conditioner. We ate “beefstiky”, which is beefsteak. And original feta, produced by the interlocutor from the backyard.


The hotel is tidy, nice and well equipped. Oh, yeah: and it’s 10 m to the sea. So I took a bath; salty one with glasses. I was thirsty. I did not honor Imi’s habit to piss in the sea when you arrive. But neither did I become an environmentalist. And I had the chance to become Sunny Crocket. A little motorboat (35 miles/hour, 3 man [or 2 and ½], standing) made an adrenalin kick. Woooow! Going against the trend is fun in clothing, but riding against the wind was rough. At a particular speed, you start to cry. It’s inevitable and it’s physics. I was between two elements: fire and water. Début: first time in my life that the distance between a decent forest fire in Greece and myself was reduced to 2 km. And 800 m the distance between us in the sea and the airplanes getting the water needed to stop the fire. 3 km of smoke and an impossibly strong wind.


We had a nice fish dinner in a “taverna” (don’t forget, everybody knows here everybody and they are relatives as well) and I’ve repaired my wap connection. So Robert thanks for the answer regarding the GPS!


Today’s word: gamoto. It is something between bitch and fuck, closer to fucker.



Day 3: 29 July 2007

“Nu-i place sa se fute cu viata.”

The high standard set by you (to yourself), what could be beautiful and what could be cliché stops you to say that a full moon above a bay is splendid. But you fight it and you write it down: it is beautiful. These standards tell you that the 2 km terraces, taverns, and 3.5 million EUR yachts are bad! Tourism is bad! Taking pictures is bad! You don’t want to become a stupid 42-year-old German with an Opel Zafira 1.9 TDI. Fuck them standards! It is great, although the sunset is cliché, and I still hate it.


Today I’ve met a guy: he is 32; he is a cousin of my uncle. He was among the first five biochemists in Europe, has a PhD from some Belgian Institute (I do not recall the name). He knows everything about drinks and mostly the chemical techniques how to avoid getting drunk. But he is not on vacation here. At 28, when he finished his PhD in Belgium he had a job opportunity there. The answer was as follows: call me in 5 days. They called him in five days, and the answer was negative, because in 5 days there was no sun at all; he considered that he would get mad working there. Now, he is a biology teacher in a village school. And he drinks. So he uses his talent and knowledge in a very personal way. Everybody says he fucked up his life. But he is happy and drives insane (real malaka).


Of course, the evening walk was productive: nice pictures, harbor, yacht and a very good ice cream (stracciatella and caramel for me). And what laughs at me from the top shelf of the paper shop? Evenimentul zilei. It beats Stern oder Der Spiegel ;).

Passing by the olive oil factory: the innocent traveler enters a new realm of odour. That is what stinks, not the Avicola near Oradea.


Today’s word: pagoto (basically, it’s ice cream and it is the most used word in my room, because of the 8-year-old cousin of mine) – but just think about yesterday’s word. Put it together! Curse words tomorrow!



Written by zoller

August 14, 2007 at 10:46 pm

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