After a sleepless flight, followed by an hour long passport check, I finally met up with my cousin Andy. The weather was lovely, and for the most part, we found the Athens Backpackers Hostel with no trouble. It's easy to get lost in Athens though. If it weren't for such noticeable landmarks as The Acropolis and Lykavittos hill, I would be horribly confused in its labyrithine streets. Not a great deal to write thus far. We met some good people at the hostel, climbed to the top of Lykavittos (highest point in the city) and, obviously, visited the Parthenon, as well as the National Archaeological Museum, the Greek Agora and the Temple of Hephaistos. We head out to Delphi soon, via bus.

Delphi. The town? Not so hot. The site? Wonderful. There is plenty to feast one's eyes upon here. From the tholos at the sanctuary of Athena to Apollo's gargantuan temple, the site has a sort of mystique surrounding it. But sadly, as is the case with so many sites of great antiquity, a lot of imagination is required to picture it as it once was. Delphi,for those who don't know, was the spot where "the Delphic Oracle" presided. Simply put, a female of tragically young age was relegated to a career of inhaling semi-toxic fumes seeping from the earth (and possibly ingesting laurel leaves, for hallucinogenic effect I believe). This unsurprisingly put her in a, shall we say, inebriated state, in which she then babbbled incoherently to priests whom then "interpreted" the divine message to whomsoever inquired. Essentially, a conduit for the the deity of Apollo. Inquiries ranged from when, or upon whom to wage war, who to marry, legal and financial advice,etc. etc. A modern day analogy would be a psychic, except with a whole lot less theatrics, travel, and potentially lethal noxious fumes. (Unless your psychic happens to have an addiction to glade) Coincidentally we met up with a tour group from St. Olaf in Minnesota, very near to where I grew up. Small world, as they say, repeatedly. Oh, and I saw the biggest cockroach in my life thus far in our hotel room. Awesome. We have spent far too much time in Delphi, and are currently enroute to the village of Larissa, from where we transfer buses to Kalabaka, and then breath-taking Meteroa, a group of monasteries perched high upon clifftops. More on this tommorrow. We are surrounded by mountains, dappled with evergreens and ancient olive groves. Kalinikta.

From Delphi we caught a bus to somewhere (memory fails me already), then a train to Kalabaka, from where we hoped to see Meteora. By now, english is RARE, and many responses to my question, "milate anglika(do you speak english)" are inevitably met with "Ligho(little)." It is humorous though, for at this stage transportation is reliant upon luck, and the repeated badgering of many different people for whatever small tidbit of info we can glean. Our train to Kalabaka arrives around 8pm, and within minutes we are met by an old man with rooms for rent. We follow him through increasingly darkening and narrowing streets, as I ask Andy, "you ever see that movie hostel?" Bad joke, I know, but I never saw it. Maybe after torturing the backapkers they invite them in for baklavas and coffees, I don't know. At any rate, we can see the peaks of meteora rising high above us, and they are magnificent. These rocks are huge! It's amazing that 24 monasteries were built here in the 14th century. The point,I believe, to escape persecution at the hands of the Ottoman Turks. Unfortunately, it is here in Kalabaka that the feeling of unwelcomness reaches its zenith. Our shadowy old albatross passes us off to the hotel proprietor, who acts as if renting us a room is a great inconvenience. No greeting, no smile, just terse responses and orders. The rest of Kalabaka proves no better.

But enough about that, on to meteora! With no frame of reference other than the terrifically megalithic peaks dominating the horizon, our direction is obvious. As the buildings of Kalabaka give way to a more rustic appearance, we enter the village of Kastraki, and before us an ancient, cobblestone path pinched between olive groves and mountainous giants winds its way unassumingly upward. This is a somewhat arduous climb, as I can feel a cold coming on, and each ascending step brings with it an increasingly forceful wind. The stairs to the first, and most impressive monastery, loom before us, and at this point the wind is taken a bit more seriously. These are the sort of gales that make you lose your balance, and much reassurance is laid upon the rock wall dividing us from a very steep precipice-and the long, inevitable fall to the rocks below. It was probably about this time that we noticed the road east of us, littered with taxis and tourists. If only the Turks could have found it. But no matter, there's something to be said about working for a sight such as this, as if we truly earned it. The monastery itself, which we entered for a two euro fee, was unassuming and quite spartan, but if it was solace these monks were hoping to create, they could hardly have been more successful. A place like this exudes a sort of spiritual solemnity, and in turn invokes a somber feeling of respect. I step lightly, speak in near-whispers, and touch nothing. Photos, photos, photos...and down the hill we go. On to Thessaloniki, and the final resting place of Phillip II, father of Alexander the Great.

Our visit to Vergina was not an easy one. Transfer after transfer, buses and a train, this is a site somewhat off the beaten path. But I had to see it, as the historical significance is astounding. This was Aegae in the ancient world, where a palace once stood,and where Alexander the Great's father, Philip II of Macedon, was assassinated and where his son was proclaimed king. It is also significant in that many Macedonian nobles were laid to rest here, one of them being, supposedly, Phillip II himself (This is disputed). The area now hosts a great museum, with many finely-wrought weapons and articles of jewelry. Unfortunately, photography inside the museum was forbidden, and I had a museum curator follow my every step to ensure I followed the rule. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. Everywhere I went, so did she. I made a joke about it, and she laughed, and stopped following me. Then I looted the place. I'm full of jokes.

Ah Thessaloniki, why have I come to grace your sprawled out city? A bit of advice, avoid this city. It's all the sprawl of Athens,with none of the landmarks. I will say people are much friendlier here, as not one, but three Greeks expressed interest in conversing with us! Sadly, for the first time ever, lonely planet let me down. Do not stay at the Hotel Acropolo. Sure, it's cheap, but so is sleeping in a bathroom of a subway station, which is about the level of cleanliness you can expect. I mean, the hundreds of burn holes in the circa 1970 linoleum floor were wholly tolerable, but the soiled plastic bag and half-eaten loaf of bread in our room ensured us that this was a xanax night, and wisely, a night to sleep in our clothes and pray we werent covered in cockroaches come morning. Sure, I can put up with filth like the next guy, but this place set the bar. SO much in fact that our erroneous decision to pay for two nights in advance was quickly reversed soon after viewing the room. (Thanks for being so cool Dimitri). Not even a TV to distract us from our squalid conditions. And speaking of television, Super Deal rocks! IT's the same concept as Deal or No Deal, except every time the contestant successfully picks a suitcase with a low amount of money, the whole audience breaks into song, and a veritable harem of women enter the stage and dance. Hilarious! There certainly needs to be more singing in unison in this world. But, I digress...Onward!

Our overnight train to Istanbul via Thessaloniki began at 8pm Wednesday,and at 9am, we are beginning to enter the fringes of this massive city of 16 million. The train ride consisted of initial hopes of meeting new and exciting people (nope), and finally giving up and going to sleep. Here's a rough intinerary:

11:30pm-asleep

2:30am-Awoken by Turkish official for passport

2:40am-asleep

2:45am-awoken by Turkish official to return my passport

3:00am-asleep

4:45am-awoken by Turkish official to exit train and purchase visa in God knows where.

5:00am-asleep

5:15-awoken by Turkish official for luggage check (this consists of me opening the top of my pack, very thorough)

And 5:30am-glorious uninterrupted sleep