I published my book "Kalo Taxidi - Notes from Greece and the Greek islands in July 2011. I am now working on my next book about Greece, and adding some extracts to my blog.
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Somewhere in Greece there must be a degree course on devising the Andros bus timetable! Each day there was a new hand-written schedule of the movements of drivers' and buses, that never tallied exactly with the other two timetables showing daily fixed departure times from Andros Chora to Batsi and Gavrion, and the other timetable showing a list of departures arranged by destination. What actually ran seemed to be something else again. Never before have I had to change bus in pitch dark on a deserted road, or seen even Greek passengers on the wrong bus, and a bus hurtling through the mountains after the bus that got away
To go back to the beginning, to my arrival at Gavrion, the port of Andros. I arrived in torrential rain. When it rains in Greece it reallyrains. There are no half measures. The rain in Gavrion was serious rain, and closely followed my wetter than wet experiences in Paros and Anti Paros. A leaking hotel roof, a collapsed building nearby, need I say more?
I had read that all ferries arriving at Andros were met by a Chora-bound bus, and I had not thought to question this advice. There were buses parked near the harbour. After all, Andros is a big island, and you would expect to find a good bus service.
How wrong I was, for I was about to be introduced to the mysteries of the Andros bus timetable. A man was sitting in the driver's seat of one of the buses. I asked him (in my best Greek) what time the bus left for Chora. "Epta," he said. I thought I had misheard.
"Epta." I counted on my fingers and reached seven. Seven? But it was only just after half past three. Surely, there was a bus before seven o'clock. I showed Mr Bus seven fingers, being careful not to produce anything that could be interpreted as a rude gesture. "Ne. Epta."
I went away and looked in my dictionary, knowing my numerical inadequacies in Greek. Yes, "epta" did mean seven. . No, 'epta' had no other meaning. Useful to know when I next wanted to buy a 7 star Metaxa. Not that useful to know when I wanted to catch a bus at half past three.. I went back to double check with Mr. Bus. He looked bored and said "epta" again. I wished my Greek had been good enough to ask why he was sitting in the driver's seat at 15.35 when the bus did not leave until 19.00. As far as I knew, the only bus route from the port of Gavrion went to Batsi and on to Chora. What was Mr Bus doing sitting in a bus that would not move for three and a half hours? Had he nothing better to do? Where was the bus going? All the time the rain was tipping down. This was my first introduction to the mysteries of the Andros bus timetable. Mr Bus looked bored. No wonder he looked bored if his task was to sit in the bus until 7 o'clock. How many Amstels could I drink by 7 o'clock? It would by then be dark. I would see nothing of the Andros countryside. A pity.
Things were happening; Gavrion was springing to life. At about a quarter to five the Superferry came in and two buses pulled up. There were now three buses at Gavrion. Surely, one of them would go to Chora before seven o'clock. Where else was there for buses to go to but Chora? One of the buses had a 'Bakoni' label stuck to the windscreen. 'Bakoni' sounded like a holiday company. The other bus had a 'Korthoi' sign. Korthi was the village beyond Chora I planned to visit. I went up to this bus - Mr Bus was sitting in the driver's seat. He said 'just a minute'. I brought my big rucksack across. I was getting somewhere, or so I thought until Mr Bus got into a taxi and drove off. Blow this, I thought - and asked another taxi driver the fare to Batsi.
And so I arrived in Batsi by taxi. Batsi is a few miles along the coast from Gavrion, the main holiday resort on the island and , importantly for me, on the bus route to Chora. Or at least, I thought that Batsi was on the bus route to Chora, but I am getting ahead of myself.
In Batsi I saw a bus timetable and wrote down the times. Those times must have been for the peak season only, for the 16.30 and 18.30 buses to Chora were not running. When travelling out of season in Greece it is annoying to find these seductive signs offering peak season treats such as plentiful buses and food in out of the way places. Often I have, hungry and thirsty, followed a sign to a taverna only to find the place bolted and barred. But I digress. I wondered later if there would have been an earlier bus if I had changed at Stavropeda but that is anticipating. On arrival, I had never heard of Stavropeda junction, the Crewe, or Clapham Junction of the Andros bus service. Somewhere I read that Stavropeda means junction. A place name with a meaning (as I suppose most of them do) like Karavostasis means boat stop.
The 19.00 met up with the boat from Rafina. The Andros bus timetable did not recognise the existence of the Haroula the vessel on which I had arrived. The Haroula was Rafina bound (I had caught her on Paros).
The shopkeeper in whose shop the timetable was posted saw me and said "Chora. Epta." Judging by the infrequency of the buses Andros seems to be an island of locals with cars and package tourists (who are driven from boat to rooms and sent on trips to line couriers’ pockets).
I lingered in a taverna waiting for the ‘epta’. Determined not to miss the long awaited bus I was out of the taverna by half past six. I sat on a seat near the bus stop, scanning the hills across the bay for signs of a bus. The rain had by now stopped. It was gradually getting dark. Seven o'clock arrived and there was still no sign of a bus. It was now impossible to tell if the lights descending the hill opposite belonged to a bus or a lorry, so I went across to the bus stop, or rather bus stopping place, for this was a patch of tarmac between the sea and the road, mostly filled with parked cars. I arranged myself and my luggage as best I could and waited. And waited. I began to think that after all my economy in waiting for the bus I would have to catch a taxi after all. No doubt, the taxi fare from Gavrion to Chora would be less than the fares combined from Gavrion to Batsi and Batsi to Gavrion. Oh, why had I been so miserly and not gone all the way to Chora by bus. I did not even know if I would like Chora when I got there. Of Gavrion and Batsi I preferred Batsi and might come back to stay for a few days later. After all this hanging around waiting to get to Chora I might get there only to find that I preferred Batsi.
I had been watching the darkening bay for the bus, then I saw two, and looked out for the third thinking that buses the whole wide world over travelled in packs of three like those in London reputedly do. One bus was on the coast road, the other on an uphill road. I assumed the uphill bus was taking tourists to the huge stepped monstrosity covering half a hillside on the Gavrion side of Batsi. Things were moving. I was about to be moving. At last.
At 19.20, a bus arrived in Batsi. I saw that it was labelled "Korthi", so I assumed that Korthi was reached via Chora and hopped on board. Niggling at the back of my mind was the thought that I had seen a 'Korthi' bus leave Gavrion hours before.......... The conductress asked me where I was going. "Chora," I said. I noticed that the conductress told the driver where I was going, but I thought no more of it. We drove for a few minutes, and then the bus pulled up. Were we at a bus stop? It did not seem to be a bus stop.
The Korthi bus had stopped just outside Batsi, and the conductress gestured me to get off. I emerged, visualising myself stranded with no luggage on a deserted hillside. What was going on? I was being initiated into the mysteries and intricacies of the Andros bus system. On the road ahead, another bus loomed out of the darkness. "Bus for Chora" said the conductress. The other bus waited for me and I caught it OK, thank you for your concern. After four hours of waiting for it, I was not going to miss it. Why two buses - neither of them full. One could have done the journey to the junction of the Chora and Korthi roads and then changed. Thinking about it afterwards, the main road goes above Batsi, not down to the harbour. One bus must have done the uphill route, and the other the downhill route. Going to Chora, I drew the short straw.
Certainly puzzling. I suppose some people wanted dropping off at the top of Batsi, and others down below, and both bus drivers did not want to do both routes. I had learnt that on an Andriot bus a passenger does not sit back, relax, and watch the scenery (or what passes for scenery in the pitch dark), he has to keep alert for little quirks in the timetable such as this.
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