Chapter 8
I was sitting like a slump at a bench on Ktel station. It’s the intercity bus service that gets you to other parts of Greece. It’s generally dirty, noisy, but it gets you there.
I was waiting for my night express. Thessaloniki is the second-largest city in the country, so the transit is frequent. The bus-station is busy all day, and retains its business up to the night hours. It’s what you would imagine a third-world airport to look like. Then replace planes with buses. People carrying luggage, chickens in cages, all nationalities coming and going, greeting their loved ones, announcements in Greek and repeated in murdered English. A banner ad right across my line of sight was proudly showing a computer error message. Nobody cared to fix it.
To my right I could see the line of
