how much fun can one australian have with 3 mormons?
Apologies for the delay in updating the blog, but was in Lisbon and Paris and, frankly, that was more fun than sitting in dank internet cafe reminiscing about travelling through Greece with friends to whom I no longer speak and a hairline fracture to my patella.
So, my last update had us all in Santorini where we were to stay for a week. Santorini itself is lovely, but I'm from Sydney, Australia and so a beach holiday for 4 weeks was starting to do my head in. Our travel books were running in short supply, having already been passed around the four of us substantially and so faced with the prospect of no book, friends who managed to live only because I knew I would have to cart their gear back if I killed them and no world cup to distract me things were looking dire. At this point I booked my flight to Athens, so that I could get on with travelling.
And so, a few days earlier than planned and about 3 weeks later than necessary my friends and I went our separate ways: me onto Italy and them onto Turkey. I flew into Athens a changed woman. My pack felt infinitely lighter simply because I had managed to rid myself of the dead weight of travel companions.
I need to point out, at this juncture, that my friends similarly were antsy with me. Indeed, one of them on our penultimate night said that she thought it was probably a good thing I wasn't going onto Turkey with them, consequently qualifing herself for the award for world's most obvious statement.
So, in Athens I caught the train to Patras, from where ferries to Italy and Corfu depart. The train ride itself takes about 2 hours and trains depart regularly from Athens airport, so for future travellers it's really simple to get to. By the time I sat on the train I had not had a conversation of any length with anyone other than my 3 amigos for more than 3 weeks, if you exclude our fair friend from Syros with the penchant for equine loving. And so when 3 young Americans sat down next to me I almost clapped with joy at the prospect of spending several hours lying non stop to them about the kangaroo taxis and killer sting rays (which, in hindsight was not so much a lie.)
You have to understand, several years ago when in Boston I went to the markets for a meal and a dorm dinner was taking place in the bar I had chosen. After about half an hour of banalities about which only the very youthful can become excited, one of them started singing their national anthem. I was sitting in the restaurant, calmly reading my guide and thinking to myself "this is why your buildings get bombed" when one of them turned to me and apologised for the noise. Instead of giving the international hand signal for "it's ok" I spoke and at that juncture, they realised I was foreign. So, they invited me to sing my national anthem. Perplexed by this bizarre need for nationalism and generally fairly embarrassed by our anthem I chose the road less travelled and explained that Australia didn't have a national anthem. The table was sceptical. How could this be, they called. And so I began what is now my favourite travel game. I lied. Blatantly. The bigger the better in my mind. I told them that they would be aware that British convicts were relocated to Australia, but that what wasn't commonly reported was that the convicts, more often than not, were in fact deported for being poor street performers. And thus, on order of the queen in the 1700s, Australians are not able to perform in public.
Normal people would have stopped me 2 minutes into this clearly delusional tale, but I was speaking with Americans and had rationalised that they believe in scientology and voted in Bush, therefore I had carte blanche to say whatever I want, as long as I said it with conviction. The table was sceptical still, until one slowly turned her head to the side and said loudly "rilly?". At this point a few more considered what was the world's worst lie and then within a few minutes I had a table of 20 college students believing that it is illegal to sing in public in Australia. Ever since then I have made it my business to befriend someone in my travels and perpetuate a lie of some kind. Residents of Washington state currently believe that funnel web spiders can (and regularly do) jump more than 20 metres if attacking, and that the preferred form of vehicle west of the line in NSW is rogue camel.
So, back to my train ride, I was sitting with 3 early 20s Americans already devising what horrendous lie I would perpetuate with them until I noticed one had a guitar and so I made a joke about not travelling light. He said he needed it for his work. "Work? What do you do?" I inquired, intrigued by this concept. Then I noticed their clean cut appearance and the bicycle. They were from Utah. I had hit the motherload. I had the entire trip to Patras with 3 mormons. They were going onto to Italy that evening to continue their work. I was going onto Corfu for a few days, but seriously considered changing my plans on the spot just so that I could quiz them for hours about their faith. As a complete heathen, when I come across people of faith I am fascinated.
While a Jehovah's Witness would have made me do a veritable happy dance on the spot, I was content with my 3 nice boys from Utah to fill in the time, and so to Patras we all went preparing for the next leg of our separate journeys.
So, my last update had us all in Santorini where we were to stay for a week. Santorini itself is lovely, but I'm from Sydney, Australia and so a beach holiday for 4 weeks was starting to do my head in. Our travel books were running in short supply, having already been passed around the four of us substantially and so faced with the prospect of no book, friends who managed to live only because I knew I would have to cart their gear back if I killed them and no world cup to distract me things were looking dire. At this point I booked my flight to Athens, so that I could get on with travelling.
And so, a few days earlier than planned and about 3 weeks later than necessary my friends and I went our separate ways: me onto Italy and them onto Turkey. I flew into Athens a changed woman. My pack felt infinitely lighter simply because I had managed to rid myself of the dead weight of travel companions.
I need to point out, at this juncture, that my friends similarly were antsy with me. Indeed, one of them on our penultimate night said that she thought it was probably a good thing I wasn't going onto Turkey with them, consequently qualifing herself for the award for world's most obvious statement.
So, in Athens I caught the train to Patras, from where ferries to Italy and Corfu depart. The train ride itself takes about 2 hours and trains depart regularly from Athens airport, so for future travellers it's really simple to get to. By the time I sat on the train I had not had a conversation of any length with anyone other than my 3 amigos for more than 3 weeks, if you exclude our fair friend from Syros with the penchant for equine loving. And so when 3 young Americans sat down next to me I almost clapped with joy at the prospect of spending several hours lying non stop to them about the kangaroo taxis and killer sting rays (which, in hindsight was not so much a lie.)
You have to understand, several years ago when in Boston I went to the markets for a meal and a dorm dinner was taking place in the bar I had chosen. After about half an hour of banalities about which only the very youthful can become excited, one of them started singing their national anthem. I was sitting in the restaurant, calmly reading my guide and thinking to myself "this is why your buildings get bombed" when one of them turned to me and apologised for the noise. Instead of giving the international hand signal for "it's ok" I spoke and at that juncture, they realised I was foreign. So, they invited me to sing my national anthem. Perplexed by this bizarre need for nationalism and generally fairly embarrassed by our anthem I chose the road less travelled and explained that Australia didn't have a national anthem. The table was sceptical. How could this be, they called. And so I began what is now my favourite travel game. I lied. Blatantly. The bigger the better in my mind. I told them that they would be aware that British convicts were relocated to Australia, but that what wasn't commonly reported was that the convicts, more often than not, were in fact deported for being poor street performers. And thus, on order of the queen in the 1700s, Australians are not able to perform in public.
Normal people would have stopped me 2 minutes into this clearly delusional tale, but I was speaking with Americans and had rationalised that they believe in scientology and voted in Bush, therefore I had carte blanche to say whatever I want, as long as I said it with conviction. The table was sceptical still, until one slowly turned her head to the side and said loudly "rilly?". At this point a few more considered what was the world's worst lie and then within a few minutes I had a table of 20 college students believing that it is illegal to sing in public in Australia. Ever since then I have made it my business to befriend someone in my travels and perpetuate a lie of some kind. Residents of Washington state currently believe that funnel web spiders can (and regularly do) jump more than 20 metres if attacking, and that the preferred form of vehicle west of the line in NSW is rogue camel.
So, back to my train ride, I was sitting with 3 early 20s Americans already devising what horrendous lie I would perpetuate with them until I noticed one had a guitar and so I made a joke about not travelling light. He said he needed it for his work. "Work? What do you do?" I inquired, intrigued by this concept. Then I noticed their clean cut appearance and the bicycle. They were from Utah. I had hit the motherload. I had the entire trip to Patras with 3 mormons. They were going onto to Italy that evening to continue their work. I was going onto Corfu for a few days, but seriously considered changing my plans on the spot just so that I could quiz them for hours about their faith. As a complete heathen, when I come across people of faith I am fascinated.
While a Jehovah's Witness would have made me do a veritable happy dance on the spot, I was content with my 3 nice boys from Utah to fill in the time, and so to Patras we all went preparing for the next leg of our separate journeys.
Idiots Among Us
Fingertip Titans
Right on, mate (is that proper grammar?)