Leaving Kea Chora Without A Bus

I have bought my ferry ticket. So now I will not be able to go to Agia Anna unless I get there before 6 a.m. tomorrow. Somehow I do not think I will see Agia Anna (at least from close quarters) this trip. The ferry ticket (not computerised) cost 1570 dr. There is no bus. The ticket seller said I should turn up at six in the morning for a taxi to the harbour. How many people? How many taxis? I am glad I am not going by the last possible boat to meet a friend in Athens!

I looked at the ticket conditions. "The passenger must be aboard the ship 30 minutes prior to departure. If travelling with a vehicle, passengers must board 2 hours prior to departure (and within time limit which has been determined by Port Regulations)."

I hardly expect passengers to be let on board at 6.30 let alone cars!

The ship chap seemed impressed at my Greek. My few words were appropriate. Lavrio avrio sounds poetical.

Proina - I thought was breakfast - is morning as well. "Mipos echete leoforio?" "Ochi. Taxis."

"Ti ora?"


Didn't I do well?

Not that I would like to rely on a taxi turning up on spec. if I had a plane to catch…..

6 a.m. I left my room as the sun was tantalisingly close to rising. Two taxis parked in square. No driver in sight. No other passengers in sight.

Now 6.05. When it gets to half past, I will start to worry. Everywhere shut. One chap walked past laden with large plastic bottles. Two other workmen walked past. Another chap with bags, and a woman (the nice Greek couple who later went on the bus as me to Athens).

Just noticed "no entry" sign at outside of tunnel - yet how much traffic goes through!

6.15. Three passengers. Where is the taxi driver?

A hobbled donkey arrives - masterless. How long is it since the donkey was the regular means of transport between Ioulis and the port? Perhaps the donkey is to carry any passenger that will not fit into the taxi?

At about half past six a taxi flew into the square. Only one seat was left. The boot was full. The driver threw my rucksack onto the roof rack. There were no fastenings. The driver must have seen my aghast expression, and gestured that the bag would be OK. . I jumped in and put the smaller bag on my knee. All the way down my heart was in my mouth (have I got the anatomical details right there?) At each bend, I expected to hear a thud as my rucksack flew off. How ever would I get it back if it fell down the steep hillside? At the harbour, the taxi flew up the ramp onto the ferry. My rucksack survived the journey OK, but to this day bears the scars of its arrival on the ferry. Before I could stop him, the driver flung my rucksack onto a large oil drum. I picked it up, and I too was covered in oil. On the deck, I liberally sprinkled talcum powder onto all the oily patches. My navy clothing was patched with talc. I then dashed into the loo to look at the damage to me. A new permutation in loo oddities on the Mirina Express. The frame of the cubicle (or could it have been the door) was so distorted that the door would not close into the frame. Not quite as clean close to as appeared from distance, but I have seen far worse ship's loos. Smelt clean because of the abundance of air fresheners hung up. I took my T-shirt off. A small patch of oil but not too bad - I found my 'best' T-shirt has a large hole - and I cannot blame that on the taxi driver. More likely a Greek bush. Looked in mirror - no oil on face. I must have been too self-conscious - thinking that people were staring at me.