Our Alcoholic Angel
The ferry pulled alongside the dock at Piraeus, near Athens. We had taken the overnight trip from the Greek island of Kalymos after having spent a week there and on the neighbouring island of Kos.
We were scheduled to speak at a couple of churches in Thessaloniki on the weekend and chose to take the seven hour train journey from Piraeus in order to arrive in Thessaloniki that day.
Now we weren’t sure if that was going to work out. The main reason for our uncertainty was the late arrival of the ferry. We were supposed to dock at 8am, but it was now getting on toward midday. As well as that, we had no idea how many trains ran each day, what time they ran, where the station was or how to get there.
As soon as the ferry had docked, the leisurely pace we had enjoyed over the last 15 hours was rudely broken into by the rush and noise of passengers gathering their families and belongings and scurrying to the gangplanks.
Our Greek friend back in Australia had warned us that even a mild mannered elderly Greek lady can be transformed into something akin to a rampaging elephant during disembarkation.
We didn’t really know what all the hurry was about, but watched with bemused interest as we headed toward the gangplank ourselves. There was nothing particularly civilised about the whole process. We found ourselves caught up in the surge of humanity who all seemed to be vying to get to the front.
We made it to terra firma without injury and followed the crowd to the other side of a large, tall shed where, our enquiries had revealed, we would find our luggage.
We looked on in dismay. A large wire enclosure contained the luggage from the ferry. Hundreds of people were jostling with each other to get to the entry of the cage. Inside the cage, a couple of men were allowing a few passengers in at a time to find their luggage.
My husband and I glanced at each other with knowing looks. This process could take an hour or two! Then once we had found our luggage, we still had to find our way to the station. We began to resign ourselves to staying a night in Athens.
My husband joined the crowd. At first he was too polite to push and shove for the front, but he’s a fast learner, and soon realised that in light of our need to catch a train, he was simply going to have to become like one of them.
Perhaps he even became more aggressive, for he was soon at the gate and shortly after was allowed into the enclosure.
As I stood watching him, a man on my right spoke to me in broken English. He pointed toward the cage and asked if my bags were in there. I didn’t know what to think. Was he trying to take advantage of a foreigner? Was he intending to steal our bags?
I nodded and told him it was all under control because my husband was in there already. Without another word, the man began pushing through the crowd and made his way into the cage, disregarding the men policing the process. He exchanged a few words with my husband, who then pointed out two of our bags.
They were large heavy bags, but the man picked them up with ease, exited the cage and pushed his way back through the crowd. My husband was clearly startled and hurriedly picked up our other bag and raced after the man, signalling the children and me to follow.
The man kept up a long, fast stride. My mind was racing with suspicions about his intentions but all I could do at the time was make sure our children stayed with me as we struggled to keep up with him.
We finally arrived at a bus stop and joined the queue of people.
My husband took advantage of this lull in activity to explain that the man was taking us to the station. The man’s English was very poor, and our Greek was non-existent, so the arrangement felt someone insecure. However, it appeared that the man had settled into waiting for the bus and had no intention of escaping with our luggage, so we decided to cautiously trust him. After all, it appeared that he was our ‘one stop’ solution to finding our way from the ferry to the station.
As soon as the bus was in view, the jostling started all over again. The bus was already fairly full, so I was quietly concerned we may have to wait for the next one.
Our man had no such thought. While we politely waited our turn to board, he began pushing to the front of the queue, gesturing to us to follow. If it wasn’t for the fear of losing our bags, we would have waited our turn to board. Instead, we obediently followed - and were surprised to find the crowd opened the way for us.
We were soon on our way to ……. well we hoped it was the station!
We watched the man closely, still cautious. Suddenly, he sprang into action, once again signalling us to follow. He picked up our bags, almost ran down the bus steps, onto the pavement, and across a busy road. There was no pedestrian crossing. He, being the braver and the more familiar with the territory, stepped out and crazily zigzagged his way across the four lane road. Cars tooted at him, but he seemed unperturbed, and triumphantly reached the other side.
My husband, still uncertain about the man’s intent, was keen to catch up with him. Fortunately the traffic thinned out enough for my husband to cross safely, after which he quickly strode into the station building.
I was still waiting for the opportunity to cross with our two young children. I too was feeling the pressure of the moment, as every minute lost could mean missing the last train to Thessaloniki.
Finally, there came enough of a break in the traffic for me to consider the risk worth taking.
“Hang onto my arm and GO”, I yelled to the children.
We made the mad dash across and kept up our pace until we had entered the station. Looking around, I finally saw my husband and the man standing in the distance. The man was gesturing toward some timetable boards, apparently giving my husband some last minute instructions.
As we neared them, the man indicated that he wanted some money. We thought his effort was worth rewarding. It had created a certain amount of angst for us, but I think it had saved us a whole lot more as well as getting us to the station very efficiently.
My husband pulled out five euros. The man looked a little appalled and shook his head. We had no idea what this service was worth. My husband pulled out another five euros and I looked on anticipating another rejection. Thankfully, the man took it, waved a cheery goodbye, and was gone.
“The train leaves in 25 minutes”, my husband said.. “It’s the last train to Thessaloniki for the day. If this man hadn’t helped us, we would probably have missed it.”
With that, he pulled some tickets out of his pocket. “He even helped me buy the tickets!”
As we sat in the waiting room, we had time to ponder the events of the previous half hour. We recalled that the man had smelt of alcohol and realised that the ten euro would probably buy him some more.
“Never mind,” said my husband. “I think God sent along this man just for us. Out of the hundreds of people he could have helped, he helped us with exactly what we needed. He got us to the station. Yes, it was a bit of a reckless ride, but he got us here. All we had to do was follow.”
“Perhaps he was an angel in disguise,” I ventured.
“Our Alcoholic Angel!” my husband declared.
“Thankyou Lord for our Alcoholic ‘Angel’!”