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It’s past midnight, but noises of an unremitting spark in Life resound as if it were day. Yellow lights flitter on the sidewalks’ canopies streaming through to the concrete and decorative garlands strung over the traffic reach into infinity like a cosmic journey. The lines of ornamental lights pull at the city’s futuristic lever of style, traveling light-years beyond time.
As Greece’s second city and home to a voluminous crowd of university students, Thessaloniki sleeps solely at the rise of dawn; it lives like a thumping jackhammer the remaining hours. The citizens roll their dice on Life’s board of backgammon. Obsessively, they’re transfixed as leeches desiring to suck the worth out of their rapidly modernizing center.
Midnight In Thessaloniki
Camron Karsten2006-10-07 12:40:30
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It’s past midnight, but noises of an unremitting spark in Life resound as if it were day. Yellow lights flitter on the sidewalks’ canopies streaming through to the concrete and decorative garlands strung over the traffic reach into infinity like a cosmic journey. The lines of ornamental lights pull at the city’s futuristic lever of style, traveling light-years beyond time.
As Greece’s second city and home to a voluminous crowd of university students, Thessaloniki sleeps solely at the rise of dawn; it lives like a thumping jackhammer the remaining hours. The citizens roll their dice on Life’s board of backgammon. Obsessively, they’re transfixed as leeches desiring to suck the worth out of their rapidly modernizing center.
Who’s Driving Your Bus?
I arrived in Thessaloniki by chance, and with any board game it’s about playing with what you have. My bus from Ancient Olympia and Pyrgos in Western Peloponnese felt disinclined to halt at my destination. Instead of leaving me off at Delphi it proceeded to surge past the turn-off sign. I knew this immediately when I saw the sign fly by and the driver shifted gears, lurching the whole bus into a higher grind. He sent the monster up into Central Greece’s steeps without any regard for one lone tourist in the rear. I was silent.
We wound about the cliff’s gorgeous evergreen slopes, their summits lost in a dense coverage of thickly sodden clouds. Grey outcroppings of rock jutted out between the pines and vistas fell into valleys of townships centered on their sustaining agriculture. Inside the bus, we were silent; watching, sleeping or crossing ourselves as we thundered past every church and roadside shrine.
It was a B-line into the mountains where my distancing Delphi hung on to the hillside without me. It hailed my presence, but I was reticent. The bus rolled onward down onto those valleys of corn, cotton, potatoes and more. Five hours after my intended disembarkation, weary
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See photographs from:
Greece Gallery
