As seems appropriate for a day that seemed to never end, it is difficult to determine exactly where it started, though I am going to pick up the narrative where Monty left it - boarding the train in Thessaloniki. Whilst Monty seemed relatively able to fall asleep relatively quickly, my usually stellar transport sleeping skills completely deserted me and I had to endure one of the world's most punishing train trips.
For a start, the cabin we were in was full, cramped and smoky and populated by a couple who seemed to have little regard for anyone in expanding their frames as much as possible so as to get comfortable and sleep. This was illustrated most clearly when about and hour into the journey the bloke took his shirt off and wiped his armpits with it. He remained shirtless for the remainder of the journey. The second big problem was that the train kept inexplicably stopping in the middle of nowhere and for up to half an hour and for no obvious reason. This was all the more disconcerting as the train changed direction at least 3 or 4 times. The last thing that was a big pain was the fact that for whatever reason, when we crossed the border they deemed it necessary to take our passports off the train to stamp them. This meant that on one occasion I actually had to get off the train with the guy and stand on the platform for half an hour (at about 3 am) and on the other occasion we were told to wait on the train and we basically had to sit and wait and hope that the train did not start moving before the border police came back with our passports.
Another problem that we encountered was that despite being advised to the contrary, our Eurrail passes do not work in Bulgaria and we had no money for tickets, this meant that when we did eventually arrive in Sofia (only 2.5 hours late despite all the stopping and starting) we had to go to the ATM with the ticket collector and then pay him for the tickets. His reply was golden. "OK - all good - no papers" and then our 20 euros straight into his pocket. We had arrived in Sofia but the day's adventures were only just beginning.
After being directed to the bus station we were able to book ourselves tickets to Skopje, the capital of Macedonia, from where we hoped to get another bus onwards to Dubrovnik in southern Croatia on the coast. After a breakfast of twix bars and potato chips we boarded the train, happy that we were on our way hopeful that we would arrive in Dubrovnik either later that night or early the next morning. There was one thing that bothered us however - our Lonely Planet book when discussing the visa requirements for tourists in Macedonia said that no visas are required for citizens of the USA, Canada and New Zealand. It did not say anything at all about Australia. This was a mild concern but we figured that it was just a typo and we approached the border with no idea the drama that was about to unfold.
After successfully having our passports stamped out of Bulgaria and checked over by the world's most enthusiastic sniffer dog, the bus cruised up to the Macedonian border check where we handed over our passports and sat and waited for the formalities to take place. However, things seemed to be taking a little longer than usual and soon the bus driver was asking "Simon James" to get off the bus. It was at this point that I began to worry. I began to really worry when I looked out the window of the bus and saw Monty shaking his head and appearing to plead with the border guard. His body language did not bode well - maybe the Lonely Planet was not a typo after all...
Monty was soon getting off the bus and he had one small piece of good news and one massive piece of bad. We did not need visas, but his passport had been rejected by the Macedonians as a couple of the pages (which had absolutely nothing on them) had been ripped slightly on the top corner. So it was off the bus for us and as we took our bags off and watched the bus cruise off into the distance the direness of our predicament became blatantly obvious. We were quite literally sitting at the border of Macedonia and Bulgaria in the middle of nowhere and with no idea where we would go next our how we would get there.
But first, in an act that perfectly encapsulated the absurdity of our situation, as my passport had already been stamped signifying my entry into Macedonia, I had to walk across the border, walk around the building and then walk back across the border so that they could stamp me out of the country. So, whilst Monty has a stamp in his passport showing that he has been denied entry on account of him being an illegal alien, I have both an entry and exit stamp from the same 15 minute period. Whilst this was kinda funny, it did not change the fact that we were sitting at the border with no idea what we were going to do.
Thankfully, after we had explained our predicament to the Bulgarian border police (they replied that the Macedonians were "f*cking c*nts), they took pity on us, gave us nectarines and convinced an Albanian bloke to give us a lift back to Sofia. Whilst the prospect of driving through a strange country with a stranger who could barely speak english and seemed to think that the listed speed limit was an indicator of half the speed at which one should drive was not exactly welcoming, we made it back to Sofia with little trouble and I even managed to sneak a nap in along the way.
Once we got back into Sofia, our Albanian mate dropped us off in the middle of town and our next adventure began. We had no idea exactly where we were, no idea how to say "train station" in Bulgarian, and absolutely no idea how to get there so we decided to ask people on the street. They told us to just jump on the bus that was coming and we'd be sweet. We took them at their word and thought we'd be there without too much drama. Once we actually got on the bus and got talking to these two young guys, it turned out that we were going in completely the wrong direction and that we needed to get off the bus, walk across an abandoned lot and get on another bus which would actually take us to the station. It was once we got to this next bus stop that I had one of the most confusing conversations of my 24 years.
Whilst Monty was off in the bushes relieving himself, an elderly lady approached and sparked up a conversation in Bulgarian. I tried to respond that I could not understand her and that I could only speak English. She did not seem to understand this and continued to jabber away at me. I began pointing in the direction we were going and saying Tsentralna Gara (I had learnt how to say central station) to which she shook her head vigourously and said "da" repeatedly. (Da means yes in Bulgarian). So here I am with this elderly woman talking to me in Bulgarian even though I have not offered her a single word to indicate that I can understand her, shaking her head like a maniac and saying yes - I was thoroughly confused. When the bus came we had no choice but to get on it and soon we were at the train station. I have since learnt that in Bulgaria they nod to say no and shake their head to say yes... Those bloody Bulbarians!
Anyways, Mont and I found ourselves back at the train station and went and asked whether we could get a bus to Belgrade. Apparently we had missed it by about 5 minutes and had no choice but to wait about 5 hours and then get the overnight train. Whilst this was no a prospect that either of us relished we made the best of it and went and got a good cheap feed at a restaurant near the staion. The meal itself was OK but was made infinitely better for the fact that it was dirt cheap and was served by one of the friendliest and most enthusiastic waiters we had yet encountered.
Eventually we got on the train (we had made the excellent decision to pay the extra cash for a sleeper cabin) and before long we were crossing the border into Serbia. Thankfully, we passed through with a minimum of fuss, though it was still pretty bizarre with one of the border police appearing to be just walking around holding a screwdriver and looking menacing. I have never been so happy to cross a border, though we did feel a little like drug smugglers when we started celebrating having avoided detainment. With this hurdle passed and with the carriage to ourselves, Monty and I were soon asleep having had without doubt the craziest day of our European adventure.
A little weary but Still Blazin'!
Jez
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