Have you ever had an experience with the Coconut Express?
Have you even heard of the Coconut Express?
If not, I'll 'splain. The term comes from island communities, the tropical type, with a very active gossip chain. Tropical island/coconut trees + gossip = Coconut Express. Its' not just any gossip chain. It's THE COCONUT EXPRESS. I mean, the speed at which information travels on this train is amazing. Even before the days of texting and cell phones, information could make it's way around small, remote islands in a flash.
The Coconut Express can work to your detriment, or, in my case, one day on the Greek isle of Kos, to your benefit:
--
Sometimes the wishes of the travel gods are just not aligned with the wishes of us mere mortals.
Sometimes you've just gotta go with it.
A two-mile walk from my hotel to the harbor (on the hottest, muggiest morning of the season) in Bodrum earlier that morning, followed by a ferry ride from Turkey to Greece and a second two-mile-long walk from the harbor to the bus depot (all while carrying too much luggage) had left me exhausted.
*I could* have opted for a cab to take me to my hotel from the port area, but when I asked the price my jaw dropped and stubborn economization set in. 37 Euro!
So I walked to the bus depot. I'd arrived at the correct bus stop only to discover that buses to my destination on Kos only ran twice per day. The first bus had run two hours prior. The next wasn't scheduled for several more hours.
Hot, drippy, sweaty, thirsty exhaustion planted me firmly onto a bench outside of the depot in the shade. Impeding dehydration drove me to stand and walk 20 yards to a nearby refreshment vendor and purchase two bottles of water. After downing the first and half of the second in a few gulps, my stubborn streak had subsided and I was ready to find a taxi and pay the outrageous sum of 37 Euro to have a driver deliver me to my hotel's doorstep.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. And I was about to come to terms with the fact the I may need to shlup myself and my belongings back to the harbor and it's taxi stand.
And then a sleek, silver Mercedes approached with a yellow taxi sign atop it. It drove down the narrow, one-way street in my direction, but I could see that it was already carrying a passenger.
Knowing that Kos was an island, and knowing that nothing is better or more efficient on islands than the proverbial Coconut Express, (Greek Isles lacking coconuts, I wonder what the equivalent is in Greece?) I stood and waved at the driver, who looked at me and drove by, shaking his head and motioning to the passengers in the back. I nodded back to him and then sat down again on my bench in the shade.
I was certain I'd have a cab within five minutes. Coconut Express Style.
And I was not disappointed, as another silver Mercedes (All of the cabs in the Greek Isles are Mercedes) pulled up and stopped in front of me within minutes. The driver hopped out, opened my door and stowed my bags in the trunk as I crawled into the air conditioned, black leather lined oasis.
"You waved at another cab?" He asked, trying to figure out what must have been an unsual thing.
"Yes I did. Thank you for coming to pick me up."
"My friend, he called me to tell me to come here. He was already busy." His English was quite good, barely broken by his Greek accent.
"Yes." I smiled and nodded. "Can you take me to such and such hotel?
"Certainly."
It was a 30-minute ride across the island to my hotel, which I hadn't known when booking. (My choices while booking were limited by mileage award availability - yup, booked this stay with airline miles.)
But the conversation that ensued illustrated perfectly the difference in culture between the country I'd just left, and the place I was now. An hour ferry ride and a shift in basic attitude toward life, love, women and liberty.
Turkey to Greece. Ultra conservatism (but still VERY liberal in comparison to other Muslim countries I've visited) versus very Mediterranean attitude.
Looking back, I enjoyed both places. But I was much more comfortable in Greece. I am a Californian after all. Liberal coastal place/Mediterranean, they're somewhat similar in some respects.
"How did you like Turkey?" Asked my very curious, very helpful, quasi-flirty middle-aged Greek driver.
"I liked it very much. But I am happy to be in Greece and able to walk the streets without a headscarf."
"You will have no problems with that here. The Turks, they are too somber. We Greeks are passionate! You travel alone? You have no boyfriend? You will have a good time here."
I just had to laugh. Because while I was more comfortable with the Greek mentality, my own beliefs lean much more toward ultra conservatism.
I gave the driver his 37 Euro and a hefty tip for a great, informative, entertaining ride and lovely air conditioning.
Yes, I would have a good time on Kos.
Long live the Coconut Express!
--
Photos of my hotels in Bodrum, and in Kos. Yes, I know the hotels are two entirely different classes, but the stark difference between the two places rather perfectly describes in two photos the difference between Turkey and Greece (for me).
Have you even heard of the Coconut Express?
If not, I'll 'splain. The term comes from island communities, the tropical type, with a very active gossip chain. Tropical island/coconut trees + gossip = Coconut Express. Its' not just any gossip chain. It's THE COCONUT EXPRESS. I mean, the speed at which information travels on this train is amazing. Even before the days of texting and cell phones, information could make it's way around small, remote islands in a flash.
The Coconut Express can work to your detriment, or, in my case, one day on the Greek isle of Kos, to your benefit:
--
Sometimes the wishes of the travel gods are just not aligned with the wishes of us mere mortals.
Sometimes you've just gotta go with it.
A two-mile walk from my hotel to the harbor (on the hottest, muggiest morning of the season) in Bodrum earlier that morning, followed by a ferry ride from Turkey to Greece and a second two-mile-long walk from the harbor to the bus depot (all while carrying too much luggage) had left me exhausted.
*I could* have opted for a cab to take me to my hotel from the port area, but when I asked the price my jaw dropped and stubborn economization set in. 37 Euro!
So I walked to the bus depot. I'd arrived at the correct bus stop only to discover that buses to my destination on Kos only ran twice per day. The first bus had run two hours prior. The next wasn't scheduled for several more hours.
Hot, drippy, sweaty, thirsty exhaustion planted me firmly onto a bench outside of the depot in the shade. Impeding dehydration drove me to stand and walk 20 yards to a nearby refreshment vendor and purchase two bottles of water. After downing the first and half of the second in a few gulps, my stubborn streak had subsided and I was ready to find a taxi and pay the outrageous sum of 37 Euro to have a driver deliver me to my hotel's doorstep.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. And I was about to come to terms with the fact the I may need to shlup myself and my belongings back to the harbor and it's taxi stand.
And then a sleek, silver Mercedes approached with a yellow taxi sign atop it. It drove down the narrow, one-way street in my direction, but I could see that it was already carrying a passenger.
Knowing that Kos was an island, and knowing that nothing is better or more efficient on islands than the proverbial Coconut Express, (Greek Isles lacking coconuts, I wonder what the equivalent is in Greece?) I stood and waved at the driver, who looked at me and drove by, shaking his head and motioning to the passengers in the back. I nodded back to him and then sat down again on my bench in the shade.
I was certain I'd have a cab within five minutes. Coconut Express Style.
And I was not disappointed, as another silver Mercedes (All of the cabs in the Greek Isles are Mercedes) pulled up and stopped in front of me within minutes. The driver hopped out, opened my door and stowed my bags in the trunk as I crawled into the air conditioned, black leather lined oasis.
"You waved at another cab?" He asked, trying to figure out what must have been an unsual thing.
"Yes I did. Thank you for coming to pick me up."
"My friend, he called me to tell me to come here. He was already busy." His English was quite good, barely broken by his Greek accent.
"Yes." I smiled and nodded. "Can you take me to such and such hotel?
"Certainly."
It was a 30-minute ride across the island to my hotel, which I hadn't known when booking. (My choices while booking were limited by mileage award availability - yup, booked this stay with airline miles.)
But the conversation that ensued illustrated perfectly the difference in culture between the country I'd just left, and the place I was now. An hour ferry ride and a shift in basic attitude toward life, love, women and liberty.
Turkey to Greece. Ultra conservatism (but still VERY liberal in comparison to other Muslim countries I've visited) versus very Mediterranean attitude.
Looking back, I enjoyed both places. But I was much more comfortable in Greece. I am a Californian after all. Liberal coastal place/Mediterranean, they're somewhat similar in some respects.
"How did you like Turkey?" Asked my very curious, very helpful, quasi-flirty middle-aged Greek driver.
"I liked it very much. But I am happy to be in Greece and able to walk the streets without a headscarf."
"You will have no problems with that here. The Turks, they are too somber. We Greeks are passionate! You travel alone? You have no boyfriend? You will have a good time here."
I just had to laugh. Because while I was more comfortable with the Greek mentality, my own beliefs lean much more toward ultra conservatism.
I gave the driver his 37 Euro and a hefty tip for a great, informative, entertaining ride and lovely air conditioning.
Yes, I would have a good time on Kos.
Long live the Coconut Express!
--
Photos of my hotels in Bodrum, and in Kos. Yes, I know the hotels are two entirely different classes, but the stark difference between the two places rather perfectly describes in two photos the difference between Turkey and Greece (for me).
This is my hotel in Bodrum, Turkey. Very Spartan. And honestly I couldn't have been happier there.
(Especially as I'd just come from here)
Great price. Clean. Great location. Two blocks from the beach.
And this is my hotel in Kos, Greece. An entirely different league. Plush, comfortable, renewing with a balcony overlooking the ocean.
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