A Friendly Face

Smiling once again from ear to ear: I'm in Greece. Because I wanted to be. Because I can. Just drive, show your passport and car registration, go.

My journey has taken me far across the west of the Balkan Peninsula. This close to the Hellenic Republic, I can't turn around without spending a night (my prerequisite for adding the country flag to the car). Besides, Vikos Gorge is just beyond the border and has been on my radar for years. Reason enough.

Until now, my border crossings have been rather bland. Men devoid of emotion, a somber Slavic solemnity in their faces. As I say goodbye to Albania (for now), something unexpected happens. This border is different. No long lines, no one at the checkpoint window. I park my car, get out and cautiously start looking for someone official. Lots of respect for border guards in these countries.

The first one I find is on the other side of the building, processing the cars entering the country. He motions for me to stay on my side, that he will be with me shortly. As I wait in the car, another officer, older and with an incredibly warm face, comes to me and hands me a huge cluster of grapes.

I've heard stories of people offering you food, but a border agent? I've experienced them grumpy, reserved, polite, but never with such a heartfelt gesture. There's nothing I have to give in return but my grateful smile and a warm "thank you". Still too much respect to ask for a selfie with him, though. For now, his image is etched in my mind.Read more