Day 9: Vienna
I set off to Prater to join a guided bike tour of the city which was supposed to be commencing at 10am. I arrived at 9.50 and waited in the deserted funfair. Well almost deserted - the mini-rides for children (you know, like the Postman Pat vans you get outside Sainsbury's) were all switched on and provided a surreal soundtrack. "Da-da-la-da-da-da-DAH" piped the Popeye ride. "Hello!!! You vant a riiide???" asked another. "BOING!!! ... BOING!!! Da-da-la-da-da-da-DAH ... BOING!!! Hello!!! You vant a riiide??? BOING!!!" I put up with this for about half an hour before deducing that the bike ride was not going to happen (not before I lost my sanity anyway).
Undeterred I set off on another viennabike to the Parliament, a hugely impressive building on the other side of town.
The Parliament
I had half an hour to kill before the guided tour so I stuck my credit card in a payphone and rang Ljubljana (I love it when you can do that). Aside from marvelling about the ease of international phone calls, I booked our accommodation for tomorrow night.
The Parliament tour was quite fun, as usual you got to hear about the politicians as well as seeing the buildings themselves. The MPs don't seem to get on very well: the parties have separate entrances and "avoid each other as much as possible"!
Inside the Parliament
Recommended by Andy, the Schonbrunn palace was a good place to relax with its huge gardens and fountains. and a particularly exciting toilet... upon flushing, the toilet seat performed a 180� rotation. Well worth €0,30.
Sadly you get to see a picture of the palace rather than the
toilet
On my way back to Stephensplatz a mystery was solved. On the wall of a bank, there were thousands of little photocopied notes in German stuck on with parcel-tape, which people occasionally removed.
The writing on the wall
I had seen this a couple of days ago and been mystified, but luckily today I spotted a man who was adding new pieces of paper. He explained that the writing was poetry and people were encouraged to take bits that they liked. Here's my poem then (translation appreciated)
Je mehr �ber bestehende Gewalt berichtet wird
Umso mehr gibt es bevorstehende Gewalt
I met up with Richard for dinner and watched some particularly poor buskers, then wandered round Stephansplatz looking for something, anything, to buy that might give me a 1 euro cent coin in change (the only remaining coin to complete my Austrian collection). Finally I spotted a €0,89 cake!
Tomorrow, Ljubljana looms.
Day 10: Vienna > Ljubljana
A lot of my diary entries seem to begin with 'an early start' and today's will be no exception.
Our train left at 8am so it was an early start and out of the hostel by 7. I spent my few remaining euros on a Schnecke for breakfast. Even in the few days I've been here my German accent has improved dramatically. Now if I ask for a Schnecke I am given a pastry, rather than a look indicating "Why did you just say you wanted to murder my children?"
Six dull hours on the train enlivened by my second-ever stamp in my passport brought us to Ljubljana. We headed to Jezica, where I had reserved us a bungalow. Or so I thought. "Bungalow??? No reserve". "But I reserved it yesterday, on the phone. My name is MAYER. M-A-Y-E-R." "Mayer??? Bungalow??? No bungalow, no. You can camp here. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"
Oh joy. So it was back to slumming it in the tent. After a tiring day there wasn't much enthusiasm for a trip into Ljubljana so a hastily rigged up table tennis table provided the evening's entertainment.
Day 11: Ljubljana
Another day, another new capital city to explore.
One of the benefits of this kind of holiday is that we are all able to do our own thing; thus while Andy had headed off on the train in search of karst scenery, Richard and I took the bus into town for some joint sightseeing.
The joint portion of our trip ended acrimoniously half an hour later, somewhere deep in the Ljubljanan suburbs. We had overshot the centre (all my fault of course) and Richard was too mean to pay the bus fare back.
Needing some change I bought breakfast (dates and Sprite, when will I ever eat a proper breakfast again?) from a mini-market. I was a little embarrassed at using my 10,000SIT note (about �30) to buy 600SIT provisions - but I needn't have worried. Person 1 in the queue paid with a huge jar of 1SIT coins, person 2 paid with empty bottles.
Ljubljana is a small but charming city. I did most of the 'sights': the market, the cathedral, the castle (with an impressive 3D virtual reality guided town tour) and the various squares or trgs.
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I wandered across the 'triple bridge' (certainly beats Three Bridges Station) and round the market for a while, my ambling sightseeing tour also taking in the Parliament building and some of Ljubljana's less attractive tower blocks.
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We all met up for dinner, Richard being the most adventurous with cutlet of foal (verdict: meaty)
I rounded the evening off with some Slovenian high culture: a performance of 'Hazarski Slovar', or 'Dictionary of the Khazars', at the castle
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I had some misgivings, not least the language barrier, but I needn't have worried. The staging, music, choreography and obvious power of the performances more than made up for the fact that I couldn't understand a single word. It was a superb piece of theatre.
Triple Bridge by night
Day 12: Ljubljana
After a much-appreciated lie in we caught the bus into the city (this time with pre-paid zetoni).
Before Richard and Andy set off on their excursion to Bled, we booked our onwards train to Thessaloniki. Unfortunately this required a change at that little-known city of Beograd ... or infamous city Belgrade. After much negotiation and a phone call to Serbia ("This is Ljubljana calling...") the tickets were reserved.
Next I went to the British Embassy, situated in a tower block in central Ljubljana. Although the FCO website had assured us that visas wouldn't be necessary to visit Yugoslavia during the tourist season, we wanted to be sure.
The Slovenian receptionist informed me that seeing someone at the embassy would not be possible. "The British Embassy is open only from 9 until 12." Naturally it was already 1 o'clock. Lazy bloody diplomats. I'd better remember in future not to get my passport stolen or get captured by enemy guerrillas in the afternoon.
Buoyed by my recent cycling experiences in Vienna, I hired a bike for the afternoon for the bargain price of 500SIT.
My bike in the Tivoli Gardens
My (t)rusty two-wheeled friend took me to the Tivoli Gardens and the Museum of Contemporary History, the main highlight of which was a chess set made out of bread and saliva by a concentration camp prisoner. There was also a gallery of famous Slovenians. Hmmm. I eventually spotted one name I recognised: Joze Plecnik, the designer of much of modern Ljubljana.
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Lunch/dinner (what should it be called? Dunch?) was obtained at the coincidentally named Cafe Plecnik before I set off for another whizz around the city on my bike.
The Dragon Bridge
I had been set the task of compiling provisions for tomorrow's train trip with 2000SIT (�6), thankfully with Slovene prices this was feasible.
Tomorrow will be a long day.
Day 13: Ljubljana > Zagreb > Belgrade >
A long day.
I'm aware that reading about long boring train journeys is not much fun ... but then, being on long boring train journeys is not much fun.
The day began with the usual shenanigans taking down the tent and making our way to the train station, where we spent our last tolars before boarding the 8:48 to Belgrade.
Waiting for the train
It was just another long boring train journey, though with the addition of the constant thought in the back of our minds that we might get sent back/thrown off the train/arrested because we didn't have a visa.
All was fine as we passed into Croatia and then, eventually, Yugoslavia - a 6 euro visa fee and we were inside.
We rolled into Belgrade 9 hours after leaving Ljubljana, past some appallingly ugly tower blocks and slums - the poverty was obvious. Bradford, all is forgiven.
We strode out into the streets of Belgrade - and promptly strode back into the station. Since we had nowhere to leave our bags we decided it safest to stay in the station and make brief forays into the city.
My search for a cash machine at least showed me the fractionally more attractive side of Belgrade.
Slightly more attractive
However it still seemed quite scary, their habit of using the Cyrillic alphabet on street signs made getting lost a distinct possibility and since none of the ATMs would accept my credit card, we were penniless.
Belgrade station
We were not exactly sad therefore, to see the lights of Belgrade disappear into the distance.
We want to go home
Only the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia now stood between us and civilisation. Well, between us and Greece anyway.
Day 14: > Skopje > Thessaloniki > Litochoro
That phone call in Ljubljana proved its worth: we had a private cabin with decent beds and uninterrupted sleep, with the exception of the Macedonian border crossings. To my amusement, the border police forgot to take my Macedonian exit visa, so I am still officially in Macedonia.
After we had reclaimed our passports from the over-zealous Greek police at the border station, we were back in the EU.
Richard was in a foul mood all morning (who knows why?) and practically exploded when Andy refused to close the compartment door.
Personal problems aside, we made it to Thessaloniki in one piece and went on the search of some food. Thankfully my Greek alphabet is better than my Cyrillic so there were far fewer problems here.
Soon we were back on the train again - this time a very hot and crowded local stopper. "I'd be embarrassed to live in Greece" yelled one American. It wasn't the most comfortable of rides, especially as the windows refused to stay open. The best place to travel was in the corridor with the window jammed open and the wind streaming into your face.
We got off at Litochoro, one of the places the man in the Tourist Information Centre in Thessaloniki had promised would have a beach. The station was in the middle of nowhere, but a 10 minute walk brought us to Camping Sylvia, run by a friendly but rather confusing man. He reminded me rather of one of the characters in The Vicar of Dibley. "Is it safe to drink the water from the taps?" "No no no no no no no no no no no no no yes."
Camping Sylvia
The campsite proved a bit basic in facilities (the squat-down toilets and cold showers weren't much fun) but more than made up for it in location ... overlooking a deserted beach with crystal clear water, perfect for swimming. Which I did.
Litochoro beach
Later we had a delicious dinner in the restaurant overlooking the sea. Life is good.
Day 15: Litochoro
Beach, sun etc
Day 16: Litochoro
After yesterday's extremely lazy day, I had an early start and set out at 9am to the train station to catch a train to Katerini, the nearest 'big town' Yes, it's so dead here you have to catch a train to go shopping. I needn't have bothered - I waited for two solid hours before a train finally arrived.
Waiting for the train
OK, big town is something of an overstatement for Katerini, but it had a small supermarket where I could buy us some food including my first breakfast for several days. Attempts to phone the Youth Hostel in Athens were less successful - I resorted to phoning my sister back home and getting her to look up the new number for me on the Internet.
The delights of Katerini exhausted, I headed back to Litochoro on the train. The train staff aren't too keen on stopping there since it's a request stop ... on this occasion the driver overshot by about 100 metres and we all had to walk back up the track.
Ever felt like an asylum-seeker?
The waitress in the restaurant where we had dinner yesterday (mmm... kebab) had apologised that "Summer had ended" and she seemed to be right. Yesterday's unbroken sun was replaced by a rather dull day of weather.
The drizzle forced us under cover and rather more games of Hearts and Ludo than usual in the evening (joined by a giant grasshopper), but it dried up later for a spot of sausage-frying and rock-juggling.
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