Wanderings: The ferry to Samothraki

May 23, 2019

The morning clouds burned off as I pedaled back to Greece. The Greek border guard seemed surprised to see an American on a bicycle crossing from Turkey (1). I had plenty of time before the train came (2), so I took the road that Google says goes north to the next town (Marasia). Perhaps the road does go through during low water when the river is fordable, but it definitely was not today.

Along the way I stopped to take a picture of a large field of poppies. A man approached me and started talking Greek, which I don't speak. So he mimed for me to take a dirt road around to the other side of the poppy field to get a better picture due to the angle of the Sun (3). As I approached the poppy field with the sun behind me there was a remarkable droning noise as hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bees were busy gathering pollen from the poppies.

Back at the ford in the river, the Athens Vespa club had arrived as part of their week-long tour of the Thracian region of Greece. The organizer told me there were also two Austrians along for the ride. They stopped here and were enjoying coffee at the large riverside Café. Behind the café, a park was overrun with what appeared to be 6th graders on a school field trip. Their teachers had gathered a bunch of tables together and were enjoying what appeared to be some sort of iced espresso drink (4) (5).

From the riverside park, I saw the train heading northbound (6). While I was enjoying the scene, it was time to go to the train station. At the old train waiting shed, I was asked by a bedraggled-looking American how to get to the border with Turkey. I pointed the way and showed him on my map. He seemed a bit confused about where the coast was (50+ miles away) and said Jesus had told him to get off at this stop. As he began telling me that 9/11 was an inside job by defense contractors, I signaled an end to the conversation, walked into the concrete waiting shed, and put my bike between myself and him. I watched the birds and butterflies flitting about as he rambled on about free fall rates, military grade explosives, and the melting point of steel.

Thankfully, the train soon arrived and some Greek teenagers helped me hoist the bike onto the train (7). The ride to Alexandroupoli was near the Turkish border most of the way, and I noted a military presence in many locations, presumably to deal with border security in light of the large number of refugees in Turkey. There were a number of poles with wire baskets affixed to the top for nesting storks. Many of these were filled with Mama birds feeding young mouths.

The train arrived just in time to catch the ferry to the Greek Island of Samothraki. Boarding was a busy affair, with cars backing on, passengers carrying on all sorts of cargo: a lawn mower, 4 pick-up truck tires, rolling racks of plants, a washing machine on a dolly, etc. All this activity was happening simultaneously. The passengers appeared to be about 2/3 island residents while the rest were tourists (8). The most common language I heard (other than Greek) was Bulgarian.

The Aegean sea was almost dead calm. About halfway through the 2.5 hour journey, a pod of dolphins appeared alongside, flying out of the water. Samothraki is a very quiet island with a population less than 3,000 people. The most prominent feature of the island is Mount Fengari (a.k.a. Mount Saos). Thankfully, there is a narrow flat area along the west and north coasts, and I cycled a few miles to my resting place for the night.

As the sun set, I heard what sounded like gurgling water from the woods behind the hotel. I was perplexed for a while until I realized the sound was the combined clanging of the bells on sheep as they headed in for the night.

(1) "Do you live in Turkey?" (No) "Are you going back to America?" (No, I'm going to Samothraki.) "Samothraki?? OK"

(2) I always leave plenty of extra time when there is a border crossing involved. There is only one train a day and I definitely did not want to miss it.

(3) As the man spoke, I discovered there was one Greek word I actually knew "Helos" (sun).

(4) The kids had been given a few balls. As near as I could tell, the instructions to the kids went something like this: don't get too close to the river (a) and don't bother us teachers unless someone is bleeding.

(a) Plastic tape was hung between the trees to mark the closest the kids could get to the river.

(5) I decided I would also try one of the iced espresso drinks and ordered one by pointing at someone else's. As I sat and enjoyed my coffee, more buses arrived and disgorged what must have been every 6th grader in the region.

(6) The train heads north a few more stops, then turns around and heads back to the seaside town of Alexandroupoli.

(7) I was pleased that Jesus had not told the conspiracy theorist to take the train back to Alexandroupli and continue to try to convince me of his theories.

(8) As we approached the Island, I heard English for the first time this trip (other than when people were talking to me). There was a group of 20 Americans (including a woman from Maine I chatted with) on a organized bus tour of Greece. "Isn't it wonderful, they pick all the hotels and restaurants and organize everything for us." (I'm sure the sixth grade field trip at Kastanies was not on their tour). I had to explain a few times that I had rented a bike in Sofia, Bulgaria ("Where?") and was poking about on my own.