27/07/2013

I woke up this morning still shrouded in the haze of last night’s Club Vass BBQ and rolled over to enjoy the discovery that I still had ten minutes before my alarm was to go off. Half an hour later the need for a pee saved me from pressing snooze again and just as well as it would have resulted in a morning frenzy which I was not in the state to achieve.

As most travellers, I am sure will attest to, when living out of a backpack you become somewhat of a master of packing and while I am well on my way to achieving this state, I am not quite there yet as this morning would prove. An hour after getting up I was sticky with an alcoholic sweat and had only just finished packing my backpack, I still had my camera bag to sort and had to assess the items I was leaving behind. The idea of breakfast was forgotten. One last glance around the room and a made for the ferry terminal, picking up my pace as I passed the proprietor of the house I was staying in out of fear he would go up to the room and come running after me with all the possessions and food I had left in the room.

I made it to the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare, annoyed that I hadn’t timed it better and had some breakfast. When the ferry arrived I looked at the number of cars wanting to board pondered how they were all going to fit. Some time later I woke up in Kefalonia with people shuffling past me to get off the ferry none the wiser as to how they managed to fit all the cars on board. The plan was to get the bus to the airport, though everyone I had spoken to who had taken it failed to mention that there is only one bus a day and it leaves at 8:30am, it was now 13:00. I sat down with a frappé to contemplate my next steps. The frappé man seemed to take a shining to me, maybe it was the remnants of the guy-liner from the night before, so once I had decided that the only option was to walk and hitch my way to the airport I got him to fill my water bottle and set off up the hill.

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The Italians stopped to let me take in the view.

About 1.5km up the hill I was drenched and had almost finished all my water, not to mention the kink in my back from lugging my bags uphill. It was time to try my hand at hitching, not something I have done much of in my time and after the first 20 or so cars I decided that karma would not be on my side as I certainly have not picked up enough hikers in my life. Finally an Italian family stopped and although they could barely fit my luggage and me into their tiny rental they were happy to cart me on to the next main town and even bought me an ice-cream along the way. After bidding them farewell I started to regret my decision to get out at a cross roads instead of at the next town. Plenty of cars passing through but all in the opposite direction to the airport. Finally an empty taxi pulled up, I explained to him that I was trying to get to the airport but had no money to pay for a taxi. He said not to worry he will take me on to the town he was heading to for a pick-up. He dropped me on top of a pass and said it was about 30min walk to the next to town or 2hrs to the airport, I thanked him and stuck out my thumb again. It was 3pm and my flight was at 8pm so I figured the worst case would be walking the town and catching a taxi from there. The worst case didn’t happen, again another taxi came past and after the same conversation as before I found myself enjoying the air-conditioning of his Mercedes and heading in the direction of the airport.

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Thumb out. 

I tried to give him the 5 euros in my pocket when he dropped me at the terminal but he refused and with a smile wished me luck on the rest of my travels. Now sitting waiting for my flight, I can’t help but let my mind wander back to the words of an earlier post, “Just ask.