There But For the Greece of God Go I

So the Balkan Pass grants extensions to Greece, which means that by the time I rolled into Thessalon like a plump Turkish sultan advancing on Christendom I wasn't exactly dead-ending.  I had a plan, and that was to catch the later train to Athens or wherever.  Anyway, I really can't be bothered to talk about Greece right now because the only thing I care about is how amazing First Class on Serbian Rail is.  SO AMAZING.  If you ever find yourself in that magical socio-economic position where you don't have enough time to hitchhike, but not enough money to fly, but just enough money for a train ticket, and you need to traverse Serbia by the cloak of darkness, then I highly suggest First Class.  You don't even need a First Class ticket.  You just need to assert yourself and start making things happen for you.  The only thing standing in the way of you and achieving your dreams is you.  

So I did just that.  I asserted myself and sat in the First Class cabin and just revelled in the plush velvety seat covers that FOLD DOWN.  You can fold down both seats on either side to form a bed.  And if you do all three, you form a pen.  Like, a playpen.  Do you know what I mean?  A pen.  There was a Facebook group about this years ago (back with both Facebook and Facebook Groups were a thing)--not specifically about the magic of Serbian Rail, but about building pens in your room or other places with cushions and things.  But come to think of it there was also a FB group about the Balkans and all their hijinks.  I think I posted on it.  

Anyway.  I had bought a couple of beers, grabbed an empty cabin, and was ready to get down to business (sleeping) when suddenly somebody burst in screaming about needing 9 euros so he could get to Skopje and the train was taking off and I just didn't have time for all this drama so I pretended to not speak English.  I fell asleep pretty quickly and woke up on the middle of the night to find some old man using my ankles as a pillow.  I was thankful I had stuffed my passport and wallet into my boxers but I also realized that there really was no danger, he just needed a pillow.

Crossing into Macedonia was pretty standard.  Got the stamps, I was happy (new passport, btw, so I was thirsty for stamps), and then we rolled into Skopje's super modern train station at around 9am.  Then we bisected the country of Macedonia on our way to Thessalon with reckless abandon, except for the several hours we were stopped at the Greek border because the Greeks think that being in the EU makes them less Balkan.  If you ask me, it has made them more Balkan, seeing as they have never had to face up to the challenges of modernity and actually develop an industrial sector.  

In any case, by 11pm, I had come face to face with the Agean Sea.