Roads are a reminder that Greece has not recovered from its economic collapse in 2010. A few months ago, I posted a picture of a sink hole in Ethinikis Antistasis St. Recently, I’ve been using the bus more often, and I can honestly say the bad roads combined with most buses’ poor suspension can put the average human backbone under serious stress. I had the impression that Athens’ roads were better than the neglected North’s, but my recent road trip to the capital has disabused me of that idea. Road surfaces in Athens are just as bone-shaking as they are in Thessaloniki.
Tolls are a nightmare, and an expensive one to boot. On the trip to Athens, we encountered 12 toll booths at a cost of just under €32, so €64 for the round trip. Think about it: 12 tolls; this means you are stopping on average every 45 kilometres, or roughly every 22 minutes if you are driving at 120kph. What happens to the money? Is it going to pay for road improvements? Of course not. Every cent is set aside to pay Greece’s creditors. Moreover, 12 tolls in the low season probably adds about 30 minutes to the trip. At Christmas, Easter and in summer, you can expect your travelling time to be increased by at least one hour as queues at toll booths are much longer. But this act of state banditry is not limited to the nation’s motorways. Now you can’t even say “thank fuck that’s over” on leaving a motorway because almost every access and egress on the Thessaloniki-Athens highway has a toll booth to greet or wave goodbye to drivers.
Greece has the third most expensive petrol in the EU. It is now above €2.30/litre in most petrol stations. So, despite the potential for spinal damage, it makes sense to use public transport, and it seems more and more people are taking that option. My use of buses is determined by my wife’s greater need for the car, but the savings are real. Last year we converted our car to LPG, which costs less than half the price of petrol. Even with this saving, a round trip to town probably costs €5 or €6, whereas – with my reduced fare option – the bus trip costs €0.55 each way.
When I was younger, I worked as a bus conductor for a year or so. The buses, single- or double-deckers, permitted no more than five standing passengers. On arriving in Thessaloniki in 1981, it was a real shock to see that the permitted capacity was 49 seated and 111 standing, ideal if one is into “frottage”. I wonder how many women have been accidentally impregnated on the 31 to Voulgari or the 10 to Harilaou. It was probably – apart from French hole-in-the-floor toilets – my first instance of culture shock as an adult.
Things have improved. While the design is still the same (two compartments linked by an “accordion” see above), the seats are more comfortable. Also, the permitted standing capacity has been reduced to around sixty. However, the buses are often jam-packed. And the potential for arguments is very high, particularly when it comes to masks. As of June 1st, rules surrounding mask-wearing were relaxed further, but masks are still compulsory on public transport and in hospitals and clinics. Compliance on buses is quite low, particularly among younger people. I witnessed two arguments in three days related to masks. The first one was particularly unpleasant. The driver, whose own mask was under his lower lip, told passengers that masks were still compulsory. Some gypsies on the bus immediately played the racist card and accused the driver of targeting them because they were “Τσιγγάνοι”. For the record, the word γύφτος, though technically a synonym, should never be used to describe travellers. In fact, in current usage, γύφτος is used to describe anyone considered to be a low-life. Anyway, as if our gypsies weren’t vocal enough, some Greek passengers got up and threatened to sue the driver for not wearing his mask properly. The driver stopped the bus and started making phone-calls. Eventually, after about ten minutes, the gypsies and a few other passengers got off the bus, and the driver set off again.
June 12th. Today is Pentecost Sunday and tomorrow is a public holiday. The great getaway to Halkidiki or the restaurants on the Thermaic Gulf has been spoiled by very bad weather. The restaurants and bars along the seafront have suffered as a consequence. A village outside Kavala was hit with 129mm of rain. That does not mean much to me, but a newspaper article made it more readily understandable: 129 litres/m2. That’s a lot of rain. It looks as if rising prices are going to force people to cut down on non-essentials. I noticed that more restaurants are beginning to offer meal deals. More about that next time. I will also take a look at street names.