29 October to 3 November
It had been difficult to choose destinations on Greece’s mainland. There was always something of interest. But for the last few days of my road trip, I decided to go up toward the Albanian, Macedonian border. In particular I headed toward the Prespa Lakes, renown for the multitudes of birds there.
Driving on country roads, I got a kick out of the tractor drivers who never seemed bothered by the cars piling up behind them, unable to pass, given the narrow, winding roads. They simply chugged along until they turned off to their destination.
Leaving Papingo for Agios Germanos, a village near the Prespa Lakes, I stopped to see the bridge in Konitsa. It’s the biggest arched bridge in the Balkans.
The road from Konitsa to my destination passed through a barren, hilly landscape. There were very few cars, except for the cruising police cars. At first I didn’t think much of it, then realised I was nearing the Albanian border.
Just before arriving in Agios Germanos, I was asked to pull over. The police were stopping all the vehicles. I hadn’t been fond of the Hertz rent-a-car stickers on my car, but as the police officer approached me, I was glad I had tourist literally written all over.
He asked me for my passport, wrote down a few things, and in English, thanked me.
The Greece most people visit, or imagine, does not resemble this part of the country.
It is a poor region, with simple lifestyles.
Once again the people were welcoming. The region possessed a subtle beauty this time of year, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
I had chosen the Prespa Lake region for all the birds who call it home–that is, before they migrate elsewhere. Fortunately some cormorants and gulls remained.
The autumn evenings were cool and I was delighted my room had a fireplace. I bonded with a town dog named Bonnie, who’d accompanied me, as I strolled through the small village, shortly after my arrival.
If I stopped to take a photograph, she waited patiently. Her owner was the proprietor of a taverna, but she was usually wandering about looking for affection. There were several town dogs, some like her, wore collars, others didn’t, but all were friendly and grateful for any attention. However, if I tried to pet another dog in Bonnie’s presence, she would put her open mouth, very gently, on my hand to let me know her thoughts on the matter.
One evening she followed me back to my room. It was raining heavily. I didn’t know the rules about animals, but assumed they weren’t welcome indoors. I reluctantly left her outside under the eave. Awhile later, it began thundering and lightening, I wondered if she was still there. Looking miserable I invited her in. She leaned against me as I pet her and put her head next to mine. Then she purred like a cat, curled up, and slept. When the rain stopped she looked at the door, then at me. She went out into the night.
Some highlights of the area:
Agios Achilios , a small island with splendid views of the lake, miniature pigs, livestock, monasteries, and twenty residents. When I’d slipped on the wet pedestrian bridge and cut my hand, one of the residents, initially gruff with me, washed it with alcohol, then gently blew on it to lessen the sting. He put on a band-aid with the dexterity of a surgeon. When I thanked him for his kindness, he looked genuinely moved.
A chapel in Agios Germanos:
A tour of the lake with an able captain:
Driving around the lake area:
Bonnie accompanied me on several walks. But if I drove somewhere, I left her behind. I didn’t wish to be accused of dog-napping. As soon as I’d get home she would come running up to me, as best she could–her owner seemed to compensate his lack of attention with leftovers. We spent most of my time there together. When I left for Edessa, it was difficult to say goodbye.
Edessa is a charming city. People were extremely kind, and outgoing. I had a wonderful visit at an art school for teens, guided by an extremely well-spoken, intelligent, young artist. She aspired to attend the art school in Thessaloniki. I have complete confidence she will be accepted.
I spoke at length with the owner of my hotel about the Greek myths, and the domineering men in them. Her husband at one point added, “Women are definitely the superior sex.” They seemed to be very happily married.
The following day I returned to Thessaloniki for one night, and took a flight to Crete the next.