Every sci-fi lover dreams of a future when tourists beam from home straight to their pool side lounge chair. Pesky lines, tight and uncomfortable seats, delays and other vagrancies of travel obliterated by progress! Gone would be the days when the twists and turns of travel create memories. But these inconveniences are precisely the experiences I cherish.
As luck would have it I had the time to travel by ferry from Piraeus to Symi island. Upon my arrival in Athens I learned that public transport and ferries were on strike. Welcome to Greece! News like this make you arrive quickly. I soon learned that the strike was to end by midnight. For me the inconvenience was minimal. I just had to spend half a day at Piraeus port and wait for the midnight departure. My time at port was made short by a long conversation with a Dutch expat. In the six hours gifted to us by Greek unions we covered pretty much everything from local affairs to the far reaches of the universe. In between I took a short walk around the E terminal and stretched my legs. The entire harbor, our ferries included lay dormant at their docks. Giant metal babies at rest. The few crew members left to guard the emptiness looked out of place. Only the engines idled on and filled the vast harbor areal with a low, powerful hum and diesel fumes. Eventually, two hours before midnight, trucks, and travelers began to emerge from the dark. Slowly the port came to life and we boarded.
Life on a ferry has its rhythm. Tourists abandoned ferries long ago for planes but locals come prepared. Armed with pillows, and blankets under their arm, suitcases in both hands they scatter throughout the boats many group areas hunting for a reasonably comfortable spot to spend the night. While everyone settles in their seats the last trucks feed into the boats giant belly. All this is routine, the participants know the procedure and departure is swift. Soon the engines roar to life drowning out the required but pointless announcements of safety procedures streaming from the ships speakers, departure is imminent. Once we cleared the harbor walls the entire bustle dies down as quickly as it began. Only the engines prod along to push the boat into the night heading east across the Agean sea.
At dawns first twilight the ships speakers spring back to life announcing the impending arrival. Most travelers manage to ignore the crackling speaker voice but once the docking maneuver begins the ships engines go into reverse sending violent vibrations through the ships frame and we can not pretend any longer, the night is over. Like a strange congregation we meet on deck and with the help of coffee and morning sun we are revitalized.
Patmos, is the first in a quick sequence of stops that follow. Seven of the Dodecanese islands are visited before the ferry reaches Rhodes, the final port of the journey. Even more islands, sometimes just larges rocks in the open sea, are passed. Now the journey takes on a different routine and direction. We are heading due south, following the Turkish coast line to our east. Small and larger islands pass by and many of us enjoy the spectacle. Every port stop becomes a little event.
Alas, a mere 24 hours after landing in Athens I disembark on Symi and I can say that I have truely arrived.