With the delay in taking the train to the Greek-Turkish border in the night, we miss the little match for Athens . We will have to wait all day in Thessaloniki before you can continue to the Greek capital.
Luckily, the weather is nice, making the waterfront rather nice, although we are delighted by the cornice or crowded cars, nor by the tall buildings that surround it. Besides, we turn our backs to get lost in the contemplation of changing light on the water. Africans are trying to sell bracelets in Brazil. Later, after a frugal picnic, we walked to a bookstore that we just found. All the joy of entering the store, I passed without noticing a bicycle path on which, unfortunately, comes a bicycle. Lost in thoughts, the rider does not see me at the last minute and brakes when the wheel hits my leg. More fear than harm, but I am amazed that, given my apologies, the man finds nothing better to do than yell! Admittedly, I was in the wrong, but having acknowledged by an apology and being in the case the only person injured (oh, one blue, at most), I expected to finish on a smile, even he contrite.
Welcome to Europe, right? The Eldorado where people do not talk that through the law? I console myself in the bookstore, where we end still get by. This lovely place, spotlessly tidy, with books well developed, and a lovely saleswoman, remember that there are still pockets of protected stupidity. Though ... Is not this where I catch an old granny trying to fold unobtrusively map she had to tear, to put it back on the shelf as if nothing had happened? Welcome to Europe ... We take the train to Athens in the late afternoon, happy to get closer little by little from our point of arrival (or departure, depending on how you look at it). The train is comfortable, well lit and clean, before us, a teenage couple kissing at full language. In Athens, we wanted to continue our way directly to Patras, but we arrived half an hour too late. Too bad, this succession of small wolf, because we could be in the ferry to Italy tonight, but we will instead sleep next to the station.
The next morning, we enjoy a buffet breakfast, which finally made our peace with Europe, even if the TV and indifference almost rude to the waitress could still give us something to moan. Without explanation, we almost miss our train to Patras! The turnkey we had not said there was a match ... People do not communicate here? Ah, if they give nudge when they see a father playing with his little Asian boy, "Ching-chang, Chang Jacky! "Both men giggle behind his back. No need to speak Greek to understand ...
short, we try not to depress and enjoy the view over the sea, the train runs along closely. Then you must take a bus, because the way the railway is being repaired. The driver drives like crazy, which does not shock anyone. In fact, on a two-way road, people drive on the emergency lane, leaving the fastest double. Suddenly, the main track is reduced, and the bus does not hesitate to double even if another vehicle is looming in front. It gives me a little sick at heart, but fortunately, the driver chose a radio folk songs delightfully kitsch. In Patras, it's cold, and many dropouts wander near the docks. An Iraqi looks to us whether a ferry for Italy tonight. We blaguons two minutes with a Senegalese who sells umbrellas. Here we are at the gates of Europe that thrills Africa ... We remain at the water's edge for a moment then, when we begin to get too cold, we enter a small family restaurant where we revel in fish soup and potatoes. The checkered tablecloths, the decor colorful and quaint but the broad smile of the lady, we go back a little morale.
Our ferry from Venice to midnight, then we must still kill some time in the departure lounge and duty-free shop full of cigarettes, chocolates and perfumes. When at last we board, truckers are far from finished boarding. We finally leave around 1am. In this season (we're late November), the ferry was almost empty. It does not cross the truckers and a few lonely travelers. The rows of empty seats, the snack bars closed and the sound of our footsteps on the carpet and violets blue, give a strange impression, as if we had embarked on a ghost ship. And it's not warm. Yet I'm amazed: such a nice big boat, I've never seen it! We explore each deck to bottom, only to conclude that there is not much to do except sleep, read and watch the time line in the foam at the stern. 
Fortunately, we meet Mary and Fanfan, who return from a tour stop in Europe. With them, you never get bored! We look at all the ship cast off and away from Patras, lighted at night, seems almost beautiful. In the distance, a bomb is unbelievable suspension bridge above the water. And then it's too cold and too wet, then it goes to sleep. Jeremiah and I set up our sleeping bags on the floor in a corner booths were of course too expensive. Anyway, there is nobody around. Only the bright light bother us a bit. early morning to call on the island Corfu, a few more passengers boarded. While there remains plenty of places elsewhere, two Germans settled in front of us, probably because these seats correspond to the numbers of tickets.
They are discreet, but the smell of their sandwiches, garlic sausage, she is not, and sign the end of the night too short. Until the arrival in Venice, they will not budge from their seats, fellows! For our part, we repeat the tour boat, Jeremiah Takes On a karate workout while I Bookish we enjoy a beautiful thinning outdoors to admire the coast of the Adriatic Sea. We also spend some time with Mary and Fanfan, who show us their travel book full of photos and collages. As they have computers and movies, we improvise a movie by placing the computer on a trash can, and we had a good laugh watching the Italian. The day finally happening faster than we had feared. Truckers, meanwhile, is désennuient playing slot machines. 
For the second night on board, Jeremiah and I have located the area of business class, completely empty, and especially in darkness. Here, we are confident of being bothered by neither light nor by Germans eating garlic sausage! When I wash the next day at dawn, in the toilet cubicle equipped with a shower head, I tell myself that I was starting to get used to life onboard. However, most approach the coast, the more I feel excited. I must say that it is hot, jumping around like a flea. Because Venice late November is wet and cold! We stack our beautiful t-shirts, fleece and rain, we realize that we're really not equipped for the European winter. Mary and Fanfan, who themselves, had originally planned to go to Norway, we are like with their huge anoraks who give them the air of divers. The cheeks were whipped by the cold, and we need to regularly take shelter inside to protect us from storms. But gradually, Venice emerges from the mist, gray and inform first, then more precise and polychrome. It's a Sunday morning, and the city seems dead, still in deep hibernation. But suddenly I saw an umbrella that, although open, trotting menu on a bridge arched an eyebrow as surprised. And then the roofs and steeples eventually take shape, a few cables of our ship weighing along the banks at a slow pace, as if to signify his majesty vaporetti face and both his respect for the city ... 
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