Update 3 Part 2
Entry for 6th - 11th September 2008 - Six weeks on the road
Day 36 (5th September) MY Birthday!
I woke up to "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you........." and Bernard said "It's not every woman who gets taken to Athens for their birthday is it?" I did convince him to stand still long enough for me to hit him which he obligingly did!
We had decided the night before we would visit the British Embassy today to seek some advice and assistance in terms of our applications to the Pakistani, Iranian and Indian embassies. We plugged the address into the sat nav and set off into the traffic.
After traversing Athens and being overtaken by virtually everything on the road we arrived at the destination only to find the address was a block of flats! On asking everybody around and passing us by we came across the inevitable "No Embassies here" and I could feel Bernard getting really, really frustrated at this second attempt to find an embassy - any embassy. It was more the traffic which was wearing him down as it seems to be like London but travelling at three times the speed and with no real rules he can work out. Even red traffic lights seem to be only vaguely observed. Pedestrians just saunter out into the road like lemmings seeking their own obliteration in collective acts of suicide. As soon as the lights do change people start beeping their horns for everybody to get moving. It is like London, but much, much, worse. It is like Rome and Paris all rolled into one and it is wearing Bernard out and he is getting shorter tempered about the whole thing.
Now it seems, after some gentle prodding, there are several addresses which all share the road name. Asking innocent questions around the concept of any form of Greek postcode he went very quiet and mumbled something. Eventually he admitted he had not used the post code. Once he put the post code into the system it showed the British Embassy was on the other side of town - in the opposite direction and to the north of the hotel; we were in the south of the city. In order to get to the Embassy we would have to pass the Hotel!
In the end I convinced him we should go back to the hotel and get a taxi but I broached it cautiously. He acquiesced so easily I knew he'd had enough of driving in Athens and it was a relief for the both of us when we were sat in an air conditioned taxi an hour later heading for the British Embassy. On arrival then the fun really began on this, my birthday.
The taxi could not stop by the embassy due to the massive concrete blocks barring the road. The security around the embassy compound was very tight and armed Greek police patrolled the road. The embassy itself is behind large steel electronic gates with high fences topping tall concrete walls. Nothing gets in or gets out without severe scrutiny. The whole area is covered with "It is forbidden to take photographs" although Bernard was very tempted! Eventually we did get into the embassy and got as far as the Greek security desk. At this point everything went from bad to worse.
Now remember it has taken some effort to even get here.
We sweltered across the city to the wrong address and then sweltered back across the city in 38 degrees in dense traffic on a heavy bike before taking a taxi. We endured all of this just to get stopped at the security desk with nobody willing to even talk to us.
Phone calls went up to embassy staff on two occasions and we listened as conversations occurred in Greek and on both occasions people refused to even talk to us. I could feel Bernard tightening beside me as he worked on the contents of what was going on beside us. He had warned me the Embassy would probably be little use as we were just two people in Athens but I thought they would help with advice. In the end we were told nobody was willing to talk to us and that the embassy was there "For lost passports or if you lost your wallet".
At this point Bernard's voice tightened and I heard him say "You mean this massive building is only for lost wallets or lost passports?" I think the heavy sarcasm was lost on the female Greek security guard! She innocently replied "yes" before adding "We do visas as well" to which Bernard replied as quick as a flash "We do not need Visas we have passports!" before going on and adding;
"You mean to say nobody at the BRITISH embassy will talk to two BRITISH passport holders about travel advice EVEN THOUGH your web site says this is a thing you will do on REQUEST?"
A further phone call (in Greek again) then ensured and she apologised after hanging up but again repeated that nobody would even come to talk to us. At this point Bernard asked for the British Ambassador's email address to complain and this was refused.
I must admit I was really, really puzzled at this outcome as I had, naively it seems, always thought that British Embassies are there to give help and assistance on a range of things to passport holders. As we sat outside after being shown the door Bernard lit cigarette after cigarette in order to calm down. Eventually the explosion I had anticipated occurred; steam poured out like a boiling kettle on the gas for too long;
"Useless, absolutely bloody useless unless you are goddam famous" he fumed as he puffed on cigarettes. "If we were a name we wouldn't be treated like this........ I bloody pay for that building..............and the people in it.............. I can't believe they would do this to you..... I'm bloody furious even though I knew they would not help before we even walked in." I sat in stunned silence at what had happened as I pictured the steam pouring out of his ears.
Eventually he calmed down and we thought our way through it.
So it was we walked away from the embassy and worked out how to get back to the hotel using the metro system (underground). On arriving back at the hotel a stinging email was issued by Bernard using his strongest diplomatic language expressing 'outrage' at our treatment.
The rest of the day was spent miserably in many ways as everything has gone wrong and even the birthday meal at the hotel was expensive and poor and I didn't enjoy the it at all.
The messages from home did cheer me up about my birthday and Bernard tried hard to make up for the day's events in the evening but today was not a good day on many levels.
Day 37 (6th September)
I woke up to "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you......" and I had a whole sense of déjà vue.
If you have ever seen the film "Ground Hog Day" you will know what I mean where the days keep replaying and replaying until the desired outcome is achieved. So it was with Bernard who said that "Today is your birthday, or tomorrow, or the next day until you have a nice day!" I must admit sometimes he really does make me laugh. Actually he makes me laugh such a lot and he can be very sweet at times like this and so began our concerted assault on Visa-land.
We spent the whole day hunting and searching for companies and routes through Iran, Pakistan and India. Hours and hours we spent reading regulations and every piece of advice on the internet we could find. Most of the day disappeared in this way. We contacted a company in Iran who were recommended by other over-land motorcyclists as being able to get the job done in terms of an Iranian Visa.
We had six photographs done to cover all the Visas at a local photographic shop and on our way back to base we stopped off in a local supermarket and, eventually, managed to track down a bottle of wine which was vaguely drinkable! I have not been able to find a wine in Greece - until this point - which did not rip my throat out! Sometimes I miss English shops where wines of the world are on the shelves and readily available. Not that I drink a lot you understand but it is nice to sip on a wine which does not anaesthetise your throat on the way down.
Getting
back to the hotel the urgent search for Bernard's multi-tool began. The swine
wound me up for a long time claiming he couldn't find the corkscrew as my
fingers drummed impatiently on the table. Eventually he relented and the
satisfying 'pop' of the cork could be heard and the gentle clink of the bottle
against the glass tuned my ears to a decent glass of wine heading my way.
It tasted smooth and so 'un-throat-ripping' and all was well with the world as we worked through the day's events.
We retired to the roof garden after a long day with sore eyes and sore throats (Bernard from screen reading for me) and sore heads (Me from listening and concentrating all day raising 'what if' questions).
But the evening was lovely and made up for all the disappointments of the previous day.
I feel much better today, having more of a sense of what we are doing and how we are going to tackle the challenges ahead.
It was a good day but very, very tiring.
Day 38 (7th September)
Little did we know when we woke up this morning how long we were going to spend trying to pay the Iranian company for the visa application process. Needless to say it wasn't easy! There was a long and torturous financial route we had to follow involving transfers through British third parties in order to circumvent American embargoes on dealing with anything Iranian! We tried transferring the 125 Euro fee through electronic means and after several hours of problems we gave up. Over to plan B.
The other option was for us to pay the fee directly to the Iranian agent's bank; in Turkey! So it was we set off to find somewhere we could transfer the money to the Bank in Istanbul!
In Greece there are many International Money Gram shops and these transfer money between people all over the world. Eventually we had to get the underground through Athens to find one who could perform this function. I managed to convince Bernard one of these agents would be by one of the stations just down the line and he was extremely sceptical about "Mrs Bloody Psychic" but, guess what? Just outside the station called Omonia on the Greek underground we found a Money Gram shop who could do the transfer to the bank in Turkey.
We arrived (with Bernard a little incredulous at how I could have guessed the location in this way) filled out the forms and handed over our money. We thought thank God for that, job done, only to have our victory celebration shattered with the next word.
"Passport" came over the desk to which Bernard responded "Pardon?"
The request was repeated "Passport please, no can do without passports".
A loud sigh came from the man next to me as he said "They're in the hotel".
"Ahh, sorry, need passport before can do".
"Bloody hell" was the not so nice response from Bernard as we realised we would have to go all the way back across the city on the underground and then come all the way back again! We set off not believing our run of errors and mistakes while ruefully admitting to each other that things have got to start going right for us soon! Over an hour later we are back at the shop clutching Bernard's passport.
Money, forms and passport disappear over the desk and we are told to wait while 'authorisation' for the transfer comes through; to stop money laundering operations. We walk a short way to a coffee shop where we anxiously wait until eventually we return to be told it will take five days to transfer the money. Five days? Where does the money go we wondered? After all we complain in England when it takes three days to press a button but five did seem a little excessive. As we have found however in the time we have been away, there is little we can do.
We just have to sit and wait it out. If nothing else we are getting used to sitting and waiting while we are in Athens!
At least we know the money is on the way and so we decided to
head off to the defining image of Greece and Athens;
follow this link if
you would like some background on the sacred rock of the Acropolis!
People come from all over the world to stand on the top of the sacred rock and view the buildings which are left at the location. As a blind person I found the whole thing rather disappointing really although, much like in other countries, entry was free for both myself and Bernard as my guide. It seems to be fairly universal everywhere we have been so far on the journey. Bayeux in France, Paris, Rome, Athens are all filled with these attractions and all have been free entry for myself and, usually, Bernard (occasionally he pays a much reduced entry fee).
At the Acropolis you cannot touch anything (there are signs everywhere) and even if you could touch all you would feel would be stone pillars. There is only so much you can extract from a stone pillar with your fingers. In many ways, one stone pillar feels very much like any stone pillar in the world unless there is something highly distinctive about the masonry or stonework involved.
It wasn't helped by the fact that the whole site is undergoing
development and is covered with scaffolding. This spoiled the picture I was
building in my head. It may well be that, unlike some monuments to the past,
the Acropolis is one of those visual things which do not translate very
well if you are blind.
While this is true, I enjoyed the visit as the weather was fantastic and the climb up to the acropolis was challenging. Bernard's descriptions were up to their usual high standards as he dipped in and out of the guide book he had bought on the way. I gained a background on the various temples and buildings which stand on this sacred Greek rock which has so much history attached to it.
We climbed down through hundreds of steps - so it seemed in the heat of the day - to end the visit sipping iced tea at a small cafe before Bernard asked if we should go and watch the sun go down over the Aegean sea? We set off to catch the train only to end up at a ferry port where trucks and cars thundered past on their way to either ferry or road out of the port.
It was a nice thought and he was a little crestfallen when he discovered where we ended up but the fact that he tried to end the day in this way meant a lot to me. Sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men just don't work out. He did promise he would find a beach over the next few days if it killed him! More importantly, I believed him.
Day 39 (8th September)
So today we psyched ourselves up for a further approach to the embassies. After our experiences with our own embassy we felt a little fragile about approaching others but we worked ourselves up and set off.
The plan was to approach the Indian Embassy for (opening 9-11 for Visa applications) before moving on to the Pakistan (9-1 for Visas). We were out the hotel at 8.30 am for the trip on the rush hour metro and stopped off at an auto bank to withdraw more money (boy does Athens eat money. It is like a monstrous bottomless pit!)
The metro is like being in the Tokyo rush or the London crush except here people are either considerate or kick my stick out the way to get on the train! There seems to be no middle ground; either considerate or very, very inconsiderate. The train itself is very hot and within minutes you can feel the sweat start to gather on your back before eventually starting to travel down. By the time you get off the train you are awash with moisture. It was a relief to get off and walk the mile to the Indian Embassy where a large queue has already formed.
Within seconds of standing in the queue the door
opened and we were waved forward by the receptionist in the doorway.
I heard Bernard say "Who us?" and it seems everyone else in the queue also waved us forward! "Yes, yes, come!" came from in front of us and we moved forward to the entrance of the embassy. It was really interesting to note that in contrast to our experiences in Athens (generally) everybody moved over and gave us a little more space to get through. There was understanding I was blind and this extended throughout the queue and through our whole subsequent visits to the embassy; as this was to be only the first!
The receptionist greeted us warmly when we got to the front and asked our business.
We explained we would like to apply for Visas and he directed
us upstairs clutching our slip of paper baring a number four printed on it while
cautioning me about the stairs themselves (which were actually fine). When we
reach the upstairs office it is immediately apparent there are two windows; one
for
Europeans and one for 'Indian Nationals'.
We sit and wait for the number to be called for about five minutes before Bernard realises there are forms in a box to apply and so we start filling in papers while we wait and people move to allow me to sit down.
We leave several spaces on the two forms (one for each of us) as we are not sure what we should write (e.g. Greek address, employer's Telephone number). After twenty minutes we are off to the window for the first time. The young lady looks completely non-plussed when Bernard hands over the - nearly completed - paperwork. Then begins the barrage of questions accompanied by much pencil chewing.
"Why did you not apply in England?"
We explained the difficulty of timing a round the world motorcycle trip to any great precision when considering the vast distances involved. She renews her chewing of the pencil with increased ferocity at our answer. Then in a flurry of pencil strokes she puts lines all over our carefully filled and completed applications. Anything we were not sure off she put lines through and then she wants a letter from each of us explaining why we had not applied while in the UK. She hands us two pieces of paper and waves us back to our seats to write the same thing twice (again one for each of us). We have to also tackle all of the pencil lines she has criss-crossed our applications with. Twenty minutes later we are back at the window.
A flurry of pencil ticks means that we are winning! She carefully checks every answer with the diligence of a chief examiner and we are sure the Indian Authorities would be proud of their daughter's meticulous examination of our papers.
She then asks for copies of our passports which she examines; she staples them to the form (round two to us, we are definitely making progress).
She then asks for our letters explaining why we are applying in Greece; she staples them to the first forms (round three, making real progress now).
She then asks for our photographs; she staples them to all the other forms which now are full of staples. We thought round four to us before she looked at us and then disappeared into another office. Bernard is now hopping from foot to foot with anxiety as he was definitely getting excited as the 'clunk, clunk' of the stapler indicated real progress. Ten minutes later she is back. With another form. Which asks for the same information we have already given! Back to our - still warm - seats for another bought of form filling. Twenty minutes later we are back to the window with two beautifully scripted forms; both exactly the same! She smiles as Bernard bows in a flourish and presents the forms.
She ticks her way through with her busy pencil before the satisfying 'clunk, clunk' indicated to me that they were acceptable to our governess of the Indian Empire!
The fee of 134 Euros (ouch) were handed over and we know we have cracked it. We were not prepared for the sting in the tail as she asked for our passports; within which she put all of the multiple stapled forms of the last two hours along with our stapled pictures.
Bernard really starts hopping as he describes how she is writing a receipt for the passports and he says:
"Are you keeping the passports?"
"Yes" our protector of the empire says while she continues scribbling without looking up.
I gently mentioned we needed them for the Pakistan Embassy. Bernard told me she looked at the two of us for a few seconds before asking "When bring them back here?" at this point Bernard's two feet can be heard drumming throughout the office as he starts to get wound up.
"How long will you keep them and when will the Visas be ready?" he asked.
"Cannot give date without passports" she said while smiling sweetly - according to Bernard - while he starts to mutter under his breath.
"If we keep passports, you collect Visa in eight days."
"You want to keep our passport FOR EIGHT DAYS" Bernard groaned "Just to put a stamp or sticker in it? Can't this be done when we come back to pick up the Visas"
"Cannot give date without passports, if you take passports, cannot give you date for Visas". Catch 22. Trapped. Game set and match to Indian Bureaucracy.
We have no choice but to leave our Passports and exit the building with Bernard muttering and groaning about having no passports for eight days. We did not know what it would mean for the Pakistan embassy application at that time and it may mean we were completely dead in the water for another eight days with no ability to progress the other Visas (Pakistan and Iranian).
As always when things are going 'pear-shaped' we sat on a wall outside and the click of the cigarette lighter signified the calming influence of nicotine was about to work its magic on my very irate companion.
"Damn....... blast........." and the loud exhale of toxicity ensued as he continued to mutter about bureaucrats and petty rules; which he has a complete aversion to in whatever form!
Over the next ten minutes - and after he had calmed down - we talked through the next phase.
We decided - with heavy prompting from me - we should go the Pakistan Embassy (passport less) and see what happened. It is important to note at this point that Mr Organised (as he can be) had actually created digital copies of all the important documents before we left England (including our passports). We were carrying photocopies of them which we had printed the day before at the hotel and so all was not lost! So we set off with Bernard in his wide brimmed (crocodile Dundee) hat through the Athens heat to find the Pakistan Embassy. We knew we had arrived miles before actually seeing it by the length of the queue outside the embassy! It is no exaggeration to say that the queue was MASSIVE. I knew it was huge as I heard the large exhale of breath followed by "Oh my God, is that the queue........bloody hell."
We paused and I thought we may as well leave
it since the queue was so big but Bernard had the bit between his teeth now and
we walk to the front of the queue where he very innocently asks "Is this the
Pakistan Embassy?"
He had already described the huge flag flying over the embassy but it was such a gentle enquiry the armed security (three of them) replied "yes, it is, how can we help you?"
Bernard explained we would like to apply for Visas and 'hey presto' they invited us to follow them in and showed us the lift while cautioning me about the step at the entrance and the four steps up to the lift; he even pressed the lift button for us and indicated we go to the second floor and ring the bell on the wooden door. I could tell Bernard was in his element now as he profusely thanked everyone we came across from that point onwards.
When the door of the lift opened a rugby scrum was occurring in the door on our right with lots of raised voices while the large teak door on our left had only a few people waiting. We rang the bell and the door opened to be ushered into an air conditioned office full of leather chairs and couches.
Soon we were joined by 'Hamid' who enquired "What can I do for you?"
Bernard explained the nature of our journey and our wish to travel through Pakistan only to be met with the same response as the Indian Embassy "Why did you not apply in the UK?" Thus we entered the same story again regarding timing and distances and limited shelf-life Visa periods. He states it cannot be done as we are two foreign nationals without Greek address. We would have to apply in our home country for the Visa.
Bernard's crestfallen voice (exaggerated I could tell) indicated this would be so hard for us as we already had the Indian (nearly) and Iranian (not at all) Visas and time was running out on us. His final plea involved the "Is there anything you could do to help us?" statement which he uses very effectively at critical moments (like border crossings!)
It seems Hamid thought about it for a few seconds (Bernard told me) before asking "Only the two of you?"
He continues to ponder and then waves his hand and says "Wait" before disappearing into another office.
After about 10-15 minutes he reappears and ushers us into an office
where a large swivel chair is occupied by somebody more senior who proceeded to
ask all about the trip. The official directed several of his questions to me including
asking about how hard it was to be always in a strange environment thinking it
must be very difficult for me sometimes. I explained that it is something that
you get used to along with the fact I learn very quickly if given the chance to find my way
around. He then noted the problems of what we were asking in terms of a visa as
a foreign national but asked where we lived in the UK. As soon as I mentioned
Warrington he knew instantly the nearest Pakistan Embassy was in Manchester
and said he would fax the embassy and seek clearance for the Visa from them.
Forms were duly completed and we explained our passport predicament which he
waved away as "Not a problem" as we had photocopies with us for the application.
We were in and out of the embassy within an hour with a promise of an answer within two days! Absolutely astonishing considering everything we had read and heard about Visas for Pakistan. I think it importtnat to also point out the whole staff were absolutely lovely and so helpful. This helpfulness ran right from the front door all the way through the building. As we left Bernard noted there were dozens of Pakistan / Indian people sat all over the pavements and, magically, like the Red Sea for Moses, a clear path appeared for us to walk though. Friends would pull companions out of the way if they saw me coming as we made our way for a celebratory milkshake at a cafe up the road.
It was a very expensive milkshake (and burger) but we really didn't care! After all the frustrations of Visas we seem to have cracked two in a single morning despite what everybody told us and despite everything we had read on the internet about other motorcyclists problems in gaining these two Visas in a short time period.
We felt really, really good for the first time in days.
Day 40 (9th September)
The day, as it usually does, began with the checking of emails as we are still waiting for word on the Iranian Visa. We did not expect any reply from our complaint to the British Embassy several days earlier regarding the treatment and dismissive attitude we received. Lo-and-behold an email winged its way into the in-box with, once we had read it, a satisfying 'clunk'.
The email was from a senior member of the consular services who had investigated our description of the events surrounding the visit. Having spoken to the members of staff who were involved, he could not do anything but agree with the points we had made about the complete lack of assistance or even courtesy given to us on the day.
So it was we were issued with an official apology from the Embassy.
It was also noted people visiting the embassy from this point onwards will not be treated in "so dismissive" a way when they have of such an enquiry. The Embassy is taking steps to ensure all such requests for information "are handled more professionally and courteously" from this point onwards.
We hope this change in policy helps any other UK citizens who turn to the British Embassy in Athens for any assistance beyond 'passports and lost wallets'.
Once we sifted through all the emails and replied to the British Embassy we turned our thoughts to our plan for the day.
As
we travel, one of our aims for the journey has always been to discover, if
possible, what it means to live with sight loss in the country we are passing
through. Today we have set aside for visiting a Greek
Visual Impairment organisation. The one we were aiming for is The Lighthouse
for the Blind of Greece which was formed in 1946. It operates under the umbrella
and supervision of the Ministry of Health and Welfare from which it draws some
of its funding. As usual we set of on the bike to visit the organisation as it
has a much, much greater impact when I arrive on the motorcycle rather than any
other form of entrance.
On with bike gear and helmets and into the Athens traffic where despite multiple wrong turns we eventually arrived safely; although a little dizzy from going round-and-round-and-round looking for the address!
The reception was staffed by a single man with a telephone. He didn't have anything else on his desk; no CCTV, computer, or any visual aids at all. When we approached him he was completely puzzled by our language and quickly rang somebody before passing over the phone to Bernard (who could see it!)
Bernard explained the nature of our journey and the reason for our visit and it was apparent they didn't believe we were actually standing in reception at that moment. "No, no, we are actually in your reception right now" I heard him say. The phone went down onto the receiver and I was guided over to a seat "We have to wait" was Bernard's explanation "as they send somebody to meet us".
Descriptions of the office entrance and foyer kept me amused until we were shown the way to go and introduced to Dimitra Asideti, The Director of the centre and it was very obvious she was at a loss as to why we were there! It took some explaining for example, we were not after money or donations of any kind; we were simply finding out about what it means to be blind in Greece. Once she realised this fact Bernard told me she visibly relaxed and started to tell us about the organisation and its history, structure and facilities offered to blind and partially sighted people. Later on Bernard also told me that within the office, once again, there were no indications of any VI equipment apart from two Braille Machines the likes of which he had never seen before.
It was with some puzzlement Dimitra asked us about why we were visiting them and we're not sure if the message ever really got through due to, perhaps, the language difficulties. Sometimes we met this with sighted people but we have not come across this before with other Visually Impaired people (as Dimitra is) who usually respond very positively to what I am doing.
Perhaps with organisations like guide dogs (in whatever country) they are more used to having visitors who want to stroke the puppies and such like whereas VI organisations who purely deal with blind or partially sighted PEOPLE are not so used to visitors? It is not like you could visit and stroke a blind person for example; although I know several who would probably like it! In fact I'm sure they would like it but I hope you understand the point I am making.
Soon the door opened and we were introduced
to Zoe who was assigned to be our guide for
the visit and she showed us a great many things during the next two hours.
The centre reminds us very much of one of our local organisations in Liverpool (the former Liverpool Voluntary Society for the Blind now renamed Bradbury Fields) who do a great deal of excellent work under the stewardship of the Chief Executive Jim Moran. It is very much like this in some ways but on a much larger scale as they are physically much bigger and draw funds from the central government to aid their work.
The centre has a fully equipped Theatre where shows are staged along with a gymnasium and printing system for Braille along with Audio production facilities. As we were shown through the centre many blind and partially sighted people were drifting in and out of the rooms and facilities as many of the workshops being run had just finished for the day (most things in Greece finish due to the heat between 2-4pm).
Within the centre there are music classes, language courses, ceramic workshops and computer courses. They run the computer classes in the suite and the software used consisted of HAL which is actually produced by one of our sponsors (Dolphin Computer Access) and this speech enables computers for blind and partially sighted people. They do not use Supernova itself - as far as we could work out - nor did we see any CCTVs at all which led us to the conclusion that the centre is very much Braille and speech based regarding sight loss adjustments. This emphasis is very different than many other systems - for example in the UK - who try to maximise the residual usable sight people have left.
When we asked about, for example, audio description for things like TV programmes or accessible newspapers we were surprised to hear "Most blind people have somebody to read to them" being used as a statement to justify the lack of provision within Greek society.
The really, really good point we picked up was the centre will produce Braille and Audio Books and will send them to any Greek person anywhere in the world FOR FREE. The staff were very explicit about this provision and (along with being justifiably proud) as it extends to the other publications they produce every month. The Braille production is overseen by Dimitris and he joined us for much of the tour, often explaining the finer points of what it means to be blind in Greece (he has experience of blindness within his family).
The centre runs other various sheltered workshops in such things as producing brushes and brooms along with the inevitable piano tuning but also an industrial production of metal fabrics (not sheltered) for a diverse range of customers (including the armed forces). They are also staffed with two full-time social workers to aid and assist on a range of matters.
It was really interesting to note that blind people in Greece only work for fifteen years and then they are encouraged to retire in order to 'recycle' the jobs within the disabled workforce. To enable this to happen the Greek Government ensure disabled people are financially secure when this happens and many people we spoke to confirmed this fact. It doesn't matter if you start work at 16 and retire at 31, it is still 15 years! Once 'retirement' occurs then most people elect to continue working in a voluntary capacity for their expenses, as were a large number of the staff at the centre.
The crowning glory really of our visit was
the trip to the tactile museum which the staff very kindly opened up
specifically for me to visit and I had a wonderful hour exploring all the
historical statues and ancient artefacts of Greece which you, so we were told,
could not touch in the national museums or at the Acropolis.
At the museum I examined faithfully reproduced statues which are located in the Louvre in Paris and in the Museums of London. Zoe did make several comments about the history of other countries plundering the Greek treasures and taking them off to foreign lands where Greek people cannot access them. You'll be glad to know that Bernard officially apologised on behalf of the British people for all the objects residing the British National Museum in London; which she greatly appreciated! He can be so diplomatic when he wants to be! She positively gushed her appreciation at his sentiments on such matters. If you would like to watch and listen to a small clip of me exploring one of the statues in this museum then please select here.
I had the chance to examine the layout of the Acropolis and appreciate the size and scale of the sacred rock and the buildings which adorn it and, for the first time, it all started to fit together in terms of understanding.
For this alone I was truly grateful to the centre.
We asked about the fact we had not seen any blind people up to this point in Athens itself and Zoe answered very candidly about our observation with the point that Athens is very dangerous for blind people. The pavements, the traffic, the metro system and the whole concept of visual awareness has a long way to go. I must agree with this as, of all the places we have been, Athens has been the most difficult to traverse. Bernard has found it very, very tiring in terms of guiding with the set out of pavements and the 'rule-free' driving with the seemingly optional red traffic lights ("I might stop, but then again I might not"). The lack of awareness is truly profound compared to everywhere else we have visited. Constantly people look as we pass and there seems no understanding (usually) of what the white cane means. People park their cars across junctions and even on zebra-crossings themselves. Motorbikes adorn the pavements and it would be impossible to navigate or learn a route independently as far as I can work out. It must be very dangerous to even try yet undoubtedly people do.
Zoe confirmed this fact of how difficult it is to move about on your own as a blind person by saying most people set out to move to be near the Lighthouse centre and, to us, it seemed so different than in the UK. There people travel all over the cities independently and without serious problems; as do I and many people I know in our daily lives. The difficulty was amply demonstrated several days later when we saw our first blind person in the middle of Athens. A symbol cane user was bouncing off the side of parked cars on the other side of the road while trying to get onto the pavement at a major junction. It must be truly, truly difficult to lead an independent life given all the constraints throughout the city.
While
this is true, the Greek Government has actually spent a fortune on a wonderful
tactile method which criss-crosses the pavements with a channel-like system
running down the middle (usually) which you can follow using a long cane. There
are lines you can follow to front doors and to the lifts at, for example, the
metro system (which also has the same tactile system). In many ways it should be
easier than in the UK but what defeats the whole object of them being there is a
profound culture of 'the car' and the whole street furniture situation. People
park all over the tactiles with motorbikes, cars, tables and chairs are all over
them, street stalls etc. etc. etc. In the end you cannot navigate by using them.
It is a great system but it obviously does not work to any great degree as there is little understanding of what the tactiles seem to be there for. When we returned to the hotel after our visit it was a very sobering thought to how vulnerable you would be as a blind person when we were coming out of a shop.
Bernard was watching the steps down onto the pavement (I stress, onto the pavement) and he had already noted "Two down" when he stated to move. Suddenly a motorbike went past and I was pushed backwards while hearing a startled yelp from him (he actually swore rather than yelp but yelp reads so much better!) The bike had missed his left leg by inches at about 20mph ON THE PAVEMENT and within 12 inches of the step. I cannot repeat the stream of profanities which came from my companion but I did have to ask him how some of the expletives would be physically possible in terms of the man and his motorbike. He was seriously angry and the motorbike rider looked back and must have thought better of it and took off - on the pavement still.
It just goes to show how insecure you would be in Athens if you were on your own and trying to move about. Our journey nearly finished with either a trip to the hospital or the Police cells for Bernard for assault on a Greek Citizen but fortunately things went our way this time and neither occurred.
Day 41 (10th September)
Bernard's father Jim is due to arrive today on the flight from
Dublin at 9pm tonight in order to visit the two estranged castaways in Athens.
He had always promised to meet us at some point in the journey and to spend some
time catching up on the events so far. We had always known that there will
probably be two what we call ' serious' stops. The first was always Athens due
to Visa hunting and the second is likely to be in Thailand as we take time to
recover from crossing Turkey, Iran, Pakistan and India.
We had the whole day to fill with no embassy trips and a thought came to mind about an event from eight years ago. The thought and event involved the Corinth canal which I had navigated in a yacht and had actually taken the helm through the canal. Strange you might think that a blind person can steer a yacht through a narrow canal but no stranger than going around the world on a motorbike I'm sure you'll agree!
I had a hankering to revisit the canal eight years later and after so much has happened in between. I wanted to go back and experience it from the top down rather than bottom up. So we set off the 50 or more miles to the Canal which is South-West of Athens and enjoyed a nice leisurely ride on the motorway. It felt good to be back on the bike and we both really enjoyed being out on it again.
The ride was over before we had even settled in really. We have been used to covering much greater distances and so 50 miles was over in the blink of an eye as it was on perfect roads in perfect blue-skied weather. The ping of the cooling engine was our backdrop as we parked the bike and stripped off all the hot gear, leaving it on the bike we walked the short distance to the bridge which spans the canal.
The canal was eventually built in 1881-83 although it had been
discussed and even started over 2000 years earlier (7th Century BC). Every Roman Emperor it seems had
thought about it (as had Hadrian himself) but all had rejected the joining of
the seas of the Aegean and Adriatic with a canal in case the Gods were offended.
Some theories of the time even thought the upper sea would drain though the canal and empty completely; or floods of a massive scale would occur in the south as the northern sea rushed downwards. Eventually, however, the canal was constructed and it saved a 400 km journey around the tip of Greece.
The two experiences across eight years were completely different. If you would like to see and hear a short video filmed at the canal please select here.
My whole sense and memory of the yacht journey was one of peacefulness and tranquillity.
Up top the whole site was very commercial and noisy as the road is a major artery on the network. We did, however, take part in the commercialisation as we bought two headscarves for the eventual Iranian Visa pictures! So in many ways we fed the capitalist beast ourselves; but the headscarves are really, really nice and so it was worth being a hypocrite for once!
At the nearby cafe we sat and sipped our cold drinks and before long we were approached by two people from England (Dorset) Christine and Mike who were on holiday from their work in Serbia would you believe (complete with Serbian registered car). They had noticed our voices (English) but it was when they saw Bernard go back to the bike several times that they realised we had come all the way from the UK on it; confirmed by all the stickers.
Mike is based in Belgrade for up to two years and his comment "Hats off to the two of you" was so sweet and appreciated as many people do not realise the real struggle we have had, on our own, to get this far. It is nice sometimes for people to appreciate the enormity of what we are trying to do on our own. We spent some time talking about the journey and bikes (as always) along with our experiences of the Balkan states and the Serbian people. Mike had noted our Serbian sticker along with the Montenegrin MNE.
They were staying just across the road in a hotel and wanted the web address in order to follow our progress at which our card was produced from the depths of one of Bernard's pockets; he has so many, bit like a magician sometimes. I swear I can never keep track of what he seems to carry in all those pockets, I know he often rattles when he walks.
They wished us well on our journey and left leaving us to ponder on the chances of meeting so many people from Dorset in so many places of the world (Bayeux, Rome and Corinth Canal south of Athens). Sometimes the world is a very small place.
Leaving the canal in time for the journey back to the hotel and then to the airport involved a very sedate bike ride back to Athens. Setting out for the two change train ride to Athens international airport to meet 'The Smith Senior' was our next task for the evening and we looked forward to meeting a familiar face from back home.
The trip from the hotel involved two changes of trains to the airport and an hour and fifteen minute journey. We arrived in plenty of time and waited for the plane to land.
It was due in at 9pm local time and at about 9.40 (when it had arrived sometime earlier) we were getting worried that Jim had been abducted by aliens or arrested by the Greek Security for having such a large case for a few days. But then again, listening to people around us as they came through the arrivals (and Bernard's descriptions of luggage) it seems that nobody was going to be doing much washing of clothes while in Athens; unlike ourselves who arrived here with basically very few clothing options!
Eventually the familiar face and voice appeared and it was apparent he was very
pleased to see us again as multiple hugs were exchanged.
The journey from the airport back to Athens (as the airport is some way outside as the journey indicates) was smooth and trouble free apart from making sure we did not lose our visitor on the metro system.
The roof garden was our second port of call after Jim had checked in and settled into his room which we had booked earlier in the week and he gazed around the city from this high vantage point like an excited youngster. He couldn't get over the heat which still existed as we got towards one o'clock in the morning still sat out in the open air of the night. He explained how it had not stopped raining for weeks in both Ireland and England and how he was developing webbed-feet from the amount of water sloshing around the country. We warned him that if he thought it was warm at 1am in the morning he would really feel it the next day as the temperatures where in the high 30s constantly since we arrived. He loved the sense of warmth and eventually we turned in for the night as my eyes were drifting closed as were Bernard's; for us it was after one on the morning but he was still running on 'Irish' time which meant it was only 11pm for his body! We hugged as we separated and called it a night.
Day 42 (11th September)
Now, much as we have discovered, everybody wants to visit the Acropolis and Jim was no different. He wanted to see the sights and experience the culture of Greece and Athens. So we set aside the day to tour the ancient monuments and after breakfast we set off to give him his first glimpse of the cultural mayhem involving Greek traffic; warning him about its idiosyncrasies and the 'optional' red lights and the 'Green man' (you can cross but only if you take your lives in your hands).
The journey to the Acropolis left him bemused at the lack of awareness around blindness and the use of a white cane as people jostled, pushed and gave little indication of any thought regarding the matter. At times he shook his head with disbelief at how difficult it is to get through the streets of Athens. It was topic of conversation throughout his time with us over the week. I think you have to understand that Jim has gained a lot of understanding and awareness around blindness as he acts as a guide for a walking group of blind and partially sighted people whom we introduced him to. Thus on weekends he can end up tramping up and down hills, valleys and mountains guiding a lot of the people we know. He had done this for over two years now and he sees things completely differently than he used to as his knowledge has grown about all the different blind people he has come in contact with; all needing different degrees of assistance, if at all. A lot of people think 'blind is blind' and can reduce all of the individual differences down to the disability. Much like everybody is different in terms of needs, expectations, desires, personality and attitudes, so to the same is true of people with sight loss. We are not all the same and do not all need (or even want) the same things but it takes time to learn and understand this fact. So he stood and shook his head at times at what was enfolding before his eyes.
Our first stop took in Hadrian's
Gate and the Temple of Zeus
which once again we entered for free with Jim on one side of me and Bernard on
the other.
The staff probably thought I needed two guides as I was unstable on my feet!
The Temple has crumbled to several pillars standing forlornly on their own including one which fell during a severe storm in the last century which has been left in the position it tumbled in. The area at least had information boards which gave us a background on what once was as it is difficult to imagine (even with sight) the mighty structures which dominated the area in Ancient times. Jim's camera snapped everything in sight and he wanted pictures of everything and anything.
At one point Bernard asked if it was possible there was 'just
a little Japanese in him?" as picture, after picture was taken. It was all done
in good humour and with much bantering about "An Irishman in Athens".
I suppose, much like a lot of people (including ourselves) we spend our whole life working and paying bills as time drifts past us without us even realising how much has gone by. When we do have the opportunity to be somewhere completely different we all want to record everything there is to record; to imprint the visit in our heads and with our photo albums which become crammed with memories. The pleasure streamed from him and the happiness in his voice at being in Athens came through loud and clear as he searched for more and more information and took more and more pictures; insisting Bernard snapped a picture of him 'over there' and a picture of him 'over here with Cathy' which he duly obliged by taking. We worked our way around the site and moved on towards the Sacred Rock which dominates the hill above Athens.
This trip to the Acropolis was actually much better than our previous visit a few days earlier.
I can say this as the tactile model at the Lighthouse Centre made the whole experience much more acute in terms of putting the physical scale into perspective. The climb to the rock also took a completely different route than the one previously taken. Once again we gained entry for free - and Jim was reduced by 50% - and we passed through the Amphitheatre on the slope up to the rock where Greek plays and events were staged on long-gone times. The climb was also harder on this slope and much more insecure underfoot but it helped me to appreciate the height we were gaining as we struggled upwards. Gaining the upper slopes we passed through another entrance and were waved through without even checking if we had a ticket due to the presence of the long cane. Step after step was climbed until we stood within the very centre of the buildings which have survived for thousands of years of careful maintenance by the Greek authorities. My abiding memory of this day is the comment by Jim who stared and said:
"I cannot believe I'm standing here. After reading about such
places for the whole of my life, I'm actually here stood at the Acropolis."
It felt good that, because of our journey, it had given an opportunity for him to have such an experience. Much like many people sometimes we all need an excuse to do something different and Jim is no different than the rest of us. He had an excuse to come to Athens which he probably would never have done under any other circumstances. We walked and wondered at the ancient times and Bernard recalled facts from our previous visit and the guide book to illustrate the fact that the Acropolis is the rock itself; adorned by different, individually, named buildings and, needless to say, many pictures were taken.
As Jim disappeared off around the site to explore for a while on his own we made our way back down and as we passed one of the attendants he stopped us and, in halting English, asked if I would like to touch the Sacred Stones of the Acropolis. After being told at The Lighthouse Centre blind people could not touch anything I was surprised at this. The halting English-speaking guide continued by explaining it was 'Government policy' that blind people could touch and explore the monuments of Greece, while also mentioning the same freedom involved the museums? He went on to guide me over to the pillars and as I explored them he explained the construction of various aspects involving time periods; differences which I could appreciate as his hands guided mine to significant points. He spent some time explaining and it was so interesting to listen to his enthusiasm about the structures which clearly, and personally, meant a lot to him; being far more than just an 'tourist attraction'.
Our trip down from the heights led us to another eventual
climb to a rock where it is said that St. Paul talked to Athenians and gave
sermons while standing
under the blazing sun all those years ago shortly after
the birth of Christianity. Jim was mesmerised by the fact he was standing on a
rock where St. Paul had once stood so long ago and it is probably one of his
abiding moments of the trip. It had such an impact with the Acropolis standing
in the background as he gazed about him and tried to envisage such an event. The
large brass wall plaque at the foot of the small plateau is, unfortunately, all
in Greek and so we could not translate the contents. We can just imagine Jim
searching through the history books and the Bible on his return to find the
story of St. Paul's visit to Athens in those early days.
As we sat in the shade at a cafe on the packed streets by the base of the Acropolis drinking copious amounts of water, Jim talked of how 'he could get used to' not being rained on throughout the day. The conversation drifted around how much the weather alone can alter people's perception and whole sense of well-being which the sun brings out. It really does influence everything.
People chat happily around us and there is the constant coming and going through the streets as people meet and then settle into chairs for the long breaks and lunches which are triggered by the afternoon heat. A heat which can stop you in your tracks as it settles on Athens. People hide under the shade and sip cold drinks as they wait for it to pass. We were no different on this day as we sat and talked about the journey so far, filling in details and events across the weeks as Jim does not have the internet to read these updates. We tell him of the trials, tribulations and of all the people we have met on our travels so far.
This conversation went on later into the night when we arrived on the inevitable trip to the roof garden which he likes so much and gives a perfect backdrop for conversations under the canopy of the Greek stars.
Previous Monthly updates on the road
Previous Updates through the planning and preparation.
| 2007 | May | June | July | August | September | October | November | December |
| 2008 | January | February | March | April | May | June | July |
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