Since my last post, where were we. One minute, I'll have a quick look.
...
Oh that's right I arrived in Cheshme to save money to get to Athens and also I had trouble with evil men in uniforms. Ok, since then, I went back to Izmir to make some money without evil men in uniforms threatening to take my instrument (which is something they aren't allowed to do I'm told). I made just enough to get my hand coffee grinder for 40 lire which is almost 8 euros and get back on the bus with 20 lire less in my pocket than I left Cheshme with. So it wasn't terribly successful for the money end.
I did get a chance to see my good friends once more and play music with them and to till the land in the chicken garden in the hostel I was volunteering at for a day again. This wasn't too eventful.
In the evening of the Sunday before my boat to Chios on the Monday I had this bright idea to go back to Cheshme (not spelled that way by the way, with the 'c' with a little curly thing underneath and and with the 's' with a little curly thing underneath it, I'm just on a computer in Chania in Crete so I'm not really bothering to find out how to put that in there). So I went back to Cheshme that night and said goodbye to my hostel friends (mind the pun) and that night proceeded to do some late night busking.
I wanted to make the money to get the ferry from Chios to Athens because I was told that Chios is not a great place to get stuck due to refugees (not all advice is savoury). So I had a figure of 240 in mind to get this ticket for about 43 euro. After busking I went out for Chorba with my friend (soup), it was great. I love Turkish food. They basically do everything right. Well, almost.
When I got back to the field with the cows I was sleeping in that night near the otogar (bus station) I counted my money on the way and I made about 100 lire putting me three lire over the amount I required. This happens quite often. I will have a figure in mind to make and I will make almost exactly that. Just one run in with the Zabita that night who decided that this night it was ok because there were others there that were turkish playing turkish songs and yeah well, that's justice in a nutshell in turkey.
So I got this boat eventually the next day, found the same person that sold me the previous ticket, got the new ticket to athens which would leave that afternoon after arriving in the morning and a few euros discount because I didn't have quite enough. Just my luck to find the same lady in the little box office next to the ferry that gave me a small discount for the last one.
So after a chai (that's turkish for a small cup of black tea in a fancy glass) I got the ferry to Chios, only 9 miles away (or something like that) and suddenly... I'm in greece. Borders are funny things aren't they?
So I get my bags searched entirely and very thorough on the other end (I'm the only one) and I make a bit of a scene to let them know I don't take kindly to discrimination. "We have to do our checks," she said. Yeah, I'm the only one that doesn't look like a tourist and also I look like a hippy (I suppose, I prefer beatnik).
I wander around chios for a few hours and find a shopping strip with no one in it and decide just as the shops are closing for the equivalent of siesta in greece (well on this island) that I will play music to an empty street. I make six euro within half an hour (which is pretty good really) and I decide the best thing to buy is some biscuits and a cheap jar of a greece brand of nutella.
I wasn't using my brain correctly for that decision but I was happy I played for a bit.
I get on the next ferry after a bit more wandering around (I did lay down on a bench for a few hours at some stage) and I'm the only person checked for ID by the police at the gate. Holiday! Yes, mr police man, I'm on a happy homeless holiday where I play music on the street and critique your society as I go.
On the boat and only sweet things in my repertoire of food and well, my stomach is not having fun. I did buy 2 euro worth of coffee beans to grind myself in my hand grinder (my new pride and joy, I can make turkish coffee anywhere in the world now!).
I get a good sleep on the boat and I meet a friend on the boat who was at the macedonian rainbow gathering I was at last year. What a coincidence. Him and his girlfriend had just been at some weekend music school retreat thing on an island and learned some traditional music and now are heading back to Skopje. I asked them for some food and got some! It's amazing how my belly finds its own meals sometimes.
We get to athens and my friends girlfriend who is greek does not have fond memories of athens and informs me that they will leave immediately to a nearby village.
I get into athens and to the port and walk a long way to the other side near the metro and ask a guy for directions, he ignores me and and two people later, someone stops (that is not convinced I am begging) and I get to ask for directions to the metro because I want to play music at the entrance to make a small amount of cash to keep me going. He is a young guy and very friendly and extremely good looking (wow there's few of those around greece), and he tells me the best place to go for music is in Monasteraki (spelling possibly not correct) and says he's going on the same train. No controls on the gates so we get to ride the train for free without tail gating anyone.
At some stage in the conversation he asked me what my dreams are. I tell him, I'm living them. It's the second 19 year old in a week that's asked me this question with the same response.
I get to M and find a church after lots of wandering and speak to some other street musicians who tell me where to play and I squeeze six euro out of athens with a prize performance of more than an hour. This goes to buying me some cheese, bread and a grapefruit and some water.
Requiring a place to stay I decide to head to axarchia, an alternative area with lots of squats (occupied empty properties).
(Quick break, I'm in an internet cafe where greek people are yelling greek at their computer screens and it's just intense, every now and then, my heart jumps and it's an emergency. It's a computer game.)
Long story short. Athens is hard hit by the recession. Things are not good there. Especially for moneyless street musicians looking to get a ticket to crete.
Ticket money for crete 43 euros. Busking for an hour after the first time I was making 3-4 euro and my soul was empty. I became discouraged.
After speaking with some juggling computer scientists from france from the squat I was now living in we decided to do a street show together and someone else came to pass the hat. We ended up doing better than I was doing alone so it was ok. We did some restaurants afterwards and made a bit more. I also met a guy on the street busking who gives guitar lessons and has a youtube channel for it who was interested in learning some of my gypsy swing style so I gave him a lesson for ten euro. And after a conversation about anarchism being a belief system that is delusional and cannot face criticism with a friend I was determined to get out of the black hole called Athens.
So the next day, I played on the main strip and right in the middle and gave a piece of my soul, didn't have quite enough and then busked again and had a little more than what I needed.
Five days in hell and I was going to Crete that night.
Athens is not a good place to get stuck on the street. I was in a squat so it was semi-ok but I'm not this sort of 'activist' anymore. I'm not like some others there who are prepared to use violence upon eviction. This is not a good way to go to jail. I prefer to do it for singing political songs on the street and getting great publicity for it.
I've got a history with the groups that live in squats because I was homeless for 3-4 years on and off in Australia and in London. I agree with many of the principles but I also have a strict requirement to be able to make my own independent decisions. Anarchism is a belief system and they are a mob. I am not a part of the mob.
I must make my own decisions. I take responsibility of my mind and I am no one's father or mother. It's why I prefer to live on the street and not in a squat.
But hey, you're not meant to write publicly about these things and you're not allowed to have a differing perspective in these 'open thinking' circles of people. (go figure) I am alone. That's basically it. I'm willing to stand up for truth I've realised is true through experience and not let people shit on me any longer. Even groups that share ideals, claim to have no hierarchy but exhibit traits of hierarchy, hang around like a mob and then gang up on you if you disagree with them on a tenet of anarchist dogma.
Life is a game. People are strange.
So after making some great friends in Athens I get on my ferry to Crete. I make another ten euro with my juggling friends just before I go in Thissio. I get peanuts, grapefruit, water and a beer.
A bad sleep in the boat and I'm in Chania.
I walk from the port to Chania after poorly attempting to get a lift and failing. Eight kilometres.
This night, my first night in Chania I made ok money busking three times. I'm fed. I'm well. And I sang some of my semi-political songs and got some money for them by random passers.
Lots of people from rich countries here, lots of australians. I am reminded of why I don't want to be in Australia any longer. I don't like australians. They're overly critical and skeptical and top poppy cuttish. Not all of them sure. Blah blah. Another hole for my grave.
I'll pretend I'm french.
Monty