I walked to the bus stop around 11:30 am. By walked, I mean I walked in the general vicinity of where the bus dropped me off from last time. I know it sounds odd, but the bus from Kalamata seamed to drop me off on the side of the road and call it a day. So when I headed to the bus station this morning, I walked towards that particular piece of sidewalk. I ended up walking in circles around the area before asking for help. In the past, bus stations have been stand-alone buildings with clear architecture types indicating ‘BUS STOP’. Gytheio has a small café with an 8.5 x 11 inch paper stating ‘Bus Stop’ in size 36 font. Because, we all have Clark Kent eyes.
I couldn’t get the 12:00 pm bus to Korinthos(Corinth) but I was able to snag a seat on the 2:00 pm bus. It was a three-hour ride with one transfer. I found out that the breaks on the buses in Greece really do work. I fell asleep on the first bus only to be awoken as I was being launched towards the seat in front of me. The only thought that went through my mind, ‘Why didn’t I put on my seatbelt again?’. I did catch my purse before it toppled off into the walkway. I wasn’t the only one who was rudely awoken. The entire bus seamed to be giving the same ‘deer in the headlights’ look as they were gasping for air.
A 10-minute taxi ride, and I made it to my hotel. Although my hotel is a little ways from the city center of Korinthos, it is literally on the water. Not a bad trade, I’d say. Korinthos is beautiful. My room faces the water. Yes, another room overlooking the water. What can I say? I am a sucker for the clear blues here! I ate an early dinner and had a swim in the water. Because I am not in the city, I decided to relax at the hotel. I was able to see the sun set across the water, worth it. I then sat on the patio typing as the city of Korinthos twinkled in the pitch-black night.
I am not an author. To be quite honest, I always hated English class. I write so I may share my experiences and remember the man I met on a bus who treated me to dinner with his family, paying and booking a hotel only to find out its out of business, fake crying in the Athens airport to get a ticket home, or remember the strangers who looked out for me on a bus. Some live, experience, and are fulfilled by what’s in their backyards. I find there is something truly exhilarating about cramming as many possessions into a bag as possible, only to complain you brought too many. This is my life out of a suitcase, hope you enjoy.