I had been to Bulgaria once before, to the mountain town of Bansko for a snowboarding trip. Then, I had of course been hoping for snow and cold, this time round I was hoping for the opposite, for the winter to stay away for as long as possible. With the weather in mind I had to make a decision in Blagoevgrad as to which way I walked next. One option was to head north towards Sofia and then follow the plain south-east to Turkey, the other was to head south into Greece and follow the coast to Turkey this way. Unable to make a decision, I sent some couch requests in both directions and waited to see who replied first. In case of difficult decisions - let some one else decide!

Whilst I was waiting for guidance I was being hosted by Father Stoyan (an orthodox priest with a taste for his family's homemade wine), his wife Ekaterina and their children. Their appartement was in a typical ex-communist social housing development but felt completely like a warm, family home. Also in Blagoevgrad I met a French couple who were walking the world, but having to take a pause while they waited for a bad back to be treated. After a coffee together sharing stories about our travels we agreed to meet again in Istanbul in the New year. In the meantime my route had been decided with an offer of a couch to surf in Petrich, a town near the Greek border. So there I headed, passing farm villages, horse and carts, roadside tables selling peppers and rakija, endless piles of firewood and shepherds with their sheep and goats. But all the time I could feel myself dragging my heals, feeling short of enthusiasm and sometimes of motivation. I wimped out from the adventure traveller in me and stayed in cheap hotels a couple of nights, trying to hide from the cold I was developing, but also the continuing, ominous feeling that Istanbul was getting so close. I began to wonder if I would enjoy any of the last kms or would just be mulling over this strange feeling.

A good feed from my hosts' mother in Petrich and a kindly restaurant owner offering me a space to sleep by the fire for my first night in Greece restored my faith a little. And as i arrived in the first city over the border, Serres, I felt a little culture shock, like i had leapt back to the future by a couple of decades, to the modern, developed world and back into 30 somethings social world. A world i had left in Cornwall, touched on as I walked through France and Italy and almost forgotten about in the balkans. It was here that my walking story found it's way onto the local TV station, courtesy of my host who volunteered on the channel. I felt a little guilty for my walking boots and Rolland the trolley as I was doing the interview and being filmed walking back and forth. It was arranged at the last minute and after doing all the hard work they were back in the appartement when the cameras rolled, the untold heroes never got a look in! As I left the city a woman standing by the road outside Lidl was looking at me very intensely before she started waving at me and saying "anglia", "istanbul", "television". I walked off towards the countryside chuckling to myself - 'spotted' walking past Lidl!!

The roads took me past endless olive groves and recently ploughed farmland. there were heavy grey winter skies and some beautiful sunsets and rises as I crossed the large open plain between Serres and Kavala. The latter, being hidden by a line of mountains that surround the plain and form a natural barrier I would have to cross to again be by the sea. I stopped at a kantina (cafe in a burger van) to ask if I could camp there for the night. They were a little baffled by me and at the same time worried it was too cold to sleep in a tent, so despite my protests that my sleeping bag would look after me just fine I was given the backseat of a their 80's Mercedez to sleep in! Even kinder was the Greek coffee and kebab and chips to take with me for breakfast in the morning, I was a bit stiff (small as a i am the back seat of a merc still isn't quite enough room to lay straight in) but hot kebab will always beat cold tinned tuna in the morning. It now being winter the weather gave me a total beating for the rest of the afternoon, with heavy rain and murky cloud accompanying me up the hill to reach Kavala. But as a little act of repentance the clouds cleared just as it was starting to get dark and i could see the whole city, clinging to the sides of the hill next to the sea. I was back to my lovely sea again for the first time since my day trip in Montenegro! It was a brief act of kindness by the weather though as whilst I spent an hour or so wandering the streets trying to find somewhere to sleep - all hell broke loose. Thunder, lightening, walls of rain creating wild rivers through the sloping streets and gusts of wind combining to totally soak me and all my stuff. All of this, of course, stopped as soon as I found a bed for the night! Not for the first time, nor the last on this trip I shouted a "f##k you!" skywards at the weather!

Seeing as I was passing through such a small part of Greece (and also to try and deal with the 's*** i'm almost there feeling') i decided to spend more time in each place I was being hosted. In Kavala time almost went backwards though, as Olga and her parents were taking a daytrip to Bulgaria for some cheap shopping (like the british "booze cruise" to France but without the boat, brits or french!) In one day we drove the exact route I had taken from Petrich and back, even passing my Mercedez back-seat hotel! I also aquired a new skill during my stay - I learnt to knit at a knitting group in a wool shop on a rainy monday evening. All those women gossiping in a wool shop - it was like the heating was on maximum!

The downside to staying anywhere longer is that you get to know the place and the people better and it makes leaving a lot less fun. One consolation was passing by my first signpost to Istanbul - or Konstantinoupolis in Greek (there's a budget cut possibility, use shorter names on signposts!) by an orange tree under the ancient aqueduct. On the way to my next stop were 2 contrasting experiences. My first ever invite to a nameday party (every saint in Greece has a day dedicated to them and when you share the saints name that day is celebrated like an extra birthday) and as luck would have it, it was St Nicholas (the wonderworker) day. So my nameday too! As if people on the road knew this the next day I was offered a succession of lifts by drivers heading the same way as me! When a a pick-up selling fruit and veg stopped going in the opposite direction, I was beginning to think it was a bit ridiculous. I went over to the driver who was waving me over to use my best Greek to say thank you but no-thankyou, I am walking. But he wasn't asking me where I was going or if i wanted a lift, after a few moments of confusion I realised his hand gestures and babbling language were asking me for sex, when I said no and started to walk off, he pulled 20 euro note out and his best pleading face. I kept on walking, a little shocked, pretty angry and suddenly anxious. I felt like after all the people who had been so kind and helpful and trusting along my way and this one dickhead was undermining everything that I had found good in people. I was looking at every driver with suspicion and wondering how unlike a prostitute anyone could look in winter walking clothes with a backpack, hat and trolley. I nearly fell off the bridge I was crossing as I was lost in my thoughts when a truck driver beeped his horn and flashed his lights at me - he was waving frantically and smiling with a big thumbs up as he passed. I smiled and waved back.

I was relieved to reach Xanthi, just as more rain arrived and as week-end long anit-facist event was taking plave. The Greek nationalist party (not unlike our BNP) were opening offices in the region and there were protests (complete with full riot gear police and army presence) and meetings through out town. There was also a concert of traditional Greek music in the night with tsipouro (strong clear alcohol!) and dancing and a lazy hungover day afterwards!

My route from Xanthi took me back to the coastline again, passing along a thin strip of land that seperates a huge salt lake from the sea. İt was grey and breezey but there were beautiful sunsets and rises over the water and the next day another first for me. I saw a flock (not sure of theİr collectİve noun) of flamingoes ın the bay and walked along shouting 'flamİngoes!' through my scarf İn excİtement. İ stopped for lunch in a bus stop (heaven-sent rest stops when it is windy and rainy) in one village and think İ was mistaken as homeless (technically İ guess İ am!) as a woman returning from a funeral at the cemetery crossed the street to give me the remains of her bread from the ceremony! I was in the city of Komotini for the unique date of 12/12/12 and joined my host in making a short video for the www.onedayonearth.org/project. We headed up to the hills outside the city and came across a shepherd and his flock just as he was dragging 2 new lambs out of the group to be fed by their mother!

My last stop in Greece was the coastal city of Alexandroupolis which İ reached after 2 days walking between the new highway and the remains of the Roman Egnatıa way. My host in the city had actually been to Falmouth and Cornwall on her holidays earlier in the year. İt was so lovely to sit and look through photos from home, seeing familiar places after all this time. İ spent a great last weekend of culture (and food and tsipouro and bıcycle clubs ın shipping containers!) in Greece before i spotted a weather window (between rain and sub-zero temps) to take me to Turkey. İt was a howling headwind, freezing rain and bitter cold that I had to battle through crossing the border. It dıdn't allow much time for sentiment as I crossed my final border of the walk, I was wrapped up against the cold and having to walk at // this angle to battle against the wind and I was pretty exhausted by the time I reached the first Turkish city of Keşan over the boder. But it was just in the nick of time as 1 hour after I arrived the rain turned to snow an everything turned blizzardy white. I had crossed my last border, out of the European Unıon and walked into the heart of winter.

For now I am safe and warm and being treated to all thıngs turkısh. There looks like a bit of a thaw at the weekend so I will push on when the ice melts a bit more. But for now, big love to you all, wherever and whatever you are doing for chrıstmas. Have a glass (or few) of mulled cider for me, stay safe, warm and happy. And thank you for all your support, messages and good wishes so far. MERRY CHRISTMAS HO HO HO!! X X X