Hella(s) Good*

I guess what we did once in Ksamil isn’t nearly as interesting as what it took to get there, so there isn’t a whole lot to cover.  Evidently I was on board to go to Greece, where I could get a stamp of the final and most Balkan of them all, eat a spanokopita, and criticize Greek fiscal and industrial policy their sovereign debt problems.   I believe I made a rather clever quip about how they ushered in Western Civilisation and are now unilaterally showing it the door, but who can know there was such much going on at the time and not everyone can keep track of my witticisms.  In any case all this was accomplished by noon, and then we were left with the very uphill task of getting back to Albania. 

What became readily apparent in the city was that no one spoke English and that seemingly universal words like “bus” and “to Albania” had not yet permeated this particular dialect of Greek.  And what became progressively apparent on our march out of Igoumenitsa is that the Greeks, while ready to accept a handout from Europe, are not willing to hand out free rides to people of European descent.  This icy slap did little to ward off the Mediterranean heat which was at its peach around 2 when we were trudging back to the border, excited for the cheap and plentiful furgons awaiting us on the other side.  As it turned out, however, an Albanian man picked us up and drove us not only to the border, but to the turnoff to Ksamil where we were to stay one more night. 

*Does anyone remember c.2002 and saying “hella”?