Great Journey 🏍 Day 239
There they are again, those encounters that make travelling so unique.
We know that we could take a PCR test in Thessaloniki to cross over to Bulgaria. But Thessaloniki is a big city and we want to avoid it. The test must not be older than 72 hours and we try the small beach town at the foot of Mount Olympus. No, we have to go to Litochoro, where you can get tested. When we arrive there - an enchanting little town with Mount Olympus hidden in the fog - the baker tells us that no, you can't have it done here. Rather down at the beach. I see.
I'm not going to be taken in that quickly. Gerd sits on the market square, watches Malou, attracts the cats with his meowing and I go on a PCR test search. The hotel on the market square is closed, the taxi drivers know nothing about tests. Only in the outdoor shop - I hum my mantra: "I'm not allowed to buy anything, I can't buy anything, I'm not allowed to buy anything" - do I find what I'm looking for: a saleswoman looks at me with a smile and says in her best English: "Let me organise it!
Speaks it and picks up the phone, calls here. Calls there. And here again. When exactly do we want to have the test, she wants to know. Well, right now, if possible. All right, she takes out a map, shows me where to go and 5 minutes later we have licked the sticks and are tested. If I had known how fast it would be, I wouldn't have eaten a chocolate croissant right before.
Less than 24 hours later, the result is in our inbox and we are ready for Bulgaria.
Thanks at this point to the wonderful outdoor shop saleswoman, who also arranges lab test appointments. @55peaks
