Monday, September 22, 2008

Clutching the cold night air

SO! I was hoping to regale you with happy stories in this blog entry, as intimated by the tone of my last Facebook status update.

Stories about how, despite setting off late after Other Half insisted on giving the car a quite unnecessary clean that took three hours on Friday afternoon, I didn't threaten him with murder over it; about how we argued about taking the buggy and I won and we squeezed it in, again without losing our cool completely; about how he drove like a Trojan from Calais to Venice, stopping briefly just twice, through the night, and caught our ferry with twenty minutes to spare, and then ate our evening meal as we floated past the sun-soaked old city...

Boy oh boy, teamwork of the utmost was required and we made it, with no arguments whatsoever. We nearly lost the plot around Basel, missing Germany by inches and only hitting Switzerland thanks to my linguistic prowess (all signs in German and no English) and a well-timed swerve by Other Half. Switzerland was a dizzy swirl of mountains, waterfalls and tunnels and quite overwhelming. Italy was beautiful - Lake Como, Verona and gorgeous fields of corn but marred by drivers who frankly take possesion of the road they way they do a football and it was a disconcerting experience.

Babe was amazing. Slept through the night, and was as good as gold- given that he woke in his seat at 6am and we didn't arrive at the port until 4.30 pm. I am in awe of his patient and sunny nature. The ferry journey was wonderful - nice cabin, and we slept like logs and ate well, and took turns sunning ourselves on the desk as we wafted past the countries that touch the Adriatic Sea.

All was very well, in fact, until we arrived at the Greek port of Igoumenitsa. The last leg of the journey was the part I had made the mistake of assuming Other Half would look after. But as we drove off (after pissing everyone off for forgetting on which deck our car was left- but then we'd had to grab a couple of bags and scramble when we parked it in the ship in Venice as it was leaving) and Other Half took the first sign for Ioannia and ignored my suggestion that we stop and ask for directions (to a new border crossing that has opened, that would put just 40 mins between the ship and his home town), I had a bad feeling in my bones. Twenty minutes later we were asking an old guy and his donkey for directions, ten minutes later we had phoned one of his brothers (Other Half's, not the old guy with the donkey's), ten more minutes later we were returning to where we started, ten more minutes later we were heading for the new crossing, ten more minutes later we were heading back up the road we had started out on, because brother had called back saying he thought it crossing closed at 8.30pm and it was already a quarter to nine.

Which is why we found outselves at a border crossing called Kakavia at about 11pm, after an extremely stressful and tedious journey through mountainous northern Greece, which consists of long winding and narrow roads, and junctions which say the place you're going to requires both a left and a right turn. All not-at-all fun in conditons of extreme darkness, which is what mountainous and unpopulated areas are like on moonless nights.

We were both dead nervous about crossing the border. The Greeks make your life hell if you're an Albanian, or interested in going to Albania, and I was steeling myself for some kind of horrendous body search, or a prolonged interrogation that would leave Babe in tears. Other Half was dreading the Albanian side, and the random taxes our visit might result in.

But we were in luck - The Greeks simply commented that we were lucky to have arrived that day (yesterday) because they're on strike from today for an in definite period of time during which it will be imposible to return home. So if I'm not back at work on 6 October, that might be why. On the Albanian side we were charged the grand sum of one Euro each and that was it, we were on our way.

Once we'd reached the crossing where signs for Other Half's home town started, I called Other Half's brother, to tell him we were safely homeward bound. As I picked up the phone five minutes later, to tell his parents we were nearly there, a pack of wild dogs crossed the road, and we commented on what a dark and cold night it was. And fairly bleak and deserted; not much in the way of settlements. Then there was a clunk, Other Half said, 'oh my God', and we ground to a halt.
'What is it?' I said.
'Look,' he replied.
The clutch pedal had popped off, and part of it was on the floor by his feet.
'Fuck my old boots,' is what I'm afraid I said.
'Don't start!' he said. And Babe woke up.

Thank God my phone had signal, as these are the kind of roads that have two cars pass along per night. I got his sister.
'Margarita,' I said. 'This is Viola. We have a serious problem! Please get in a taxi and drive to the border road. We're about an hour away, the car is buggered and the baby is hungry. We have money, please come now.'
'Yes,' she said.
I saw a car approaching from behind, and got out fast and made star jumps in front of our headlights. It carried on.
Then we started flinging all the travel debris from our initial journey into bags, as we knew we had to be ready to empty the car completely if we got help, as we couldn't risk leaving it with stuff in it. I could see my breath, it was freezing. We then started to discuss the possibility of Other Half staying in the car, to protect it. Not a nice thought. Babe, meanwhile, sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in a blanket, playing with his bear. What an angel!

Not long after, a jeep drove by and stopped. They were headed for the same destination as us, and took Piers and I without question. They had no English and my Albanian is dire, but their little girl was two and called Stacey, you may be interested to know. And had been throwing up all day, so I hope we haven't caught a nasty bug from her. I feel dodgy but it's probably stress. The driver also gave our car a shove, and Other half managed to coast downhill for about fifteen minutes ahead of us. At which point Margarita appeared, bless her, with a neighbour who towed us home. Blinking heck. We arrived at about 1am, not at all in the style in which Other Half had imagined.

Today was spent looking for a mechanic who is trying to track down the parts we need, which are probably only available in Greece - and the borders are closed! Which leaves us stuck in the family home, and no way of getting around. And pretty much all our spending money already gone. Luckily I have some plastic with me.

Bloody hell. I am taking this amazingly well, I think. Keep me in your thoughts.

Internet cafe playing awful music. I am so outta here.

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