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Zen and the Art of Minor Accidents

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On many of the small interstates, we had absolutely no medians. What this means is that if you're driving up a steep windy mountain, you better stop at each curve and make sure a semi truck isn't heading in your direction. The lanes are so small, many drivers—especially larger trucks, would be forced to occupy part of the other lane as well.

Depending on whether you're driving up the mountain or down it, you have to be prepared to swerve suddenly and violently. Don't think that guardrails will protect you.

On some of the more treacherous passes, if there is any guardrail at all, it consists of barely more than a piece of aluminum siding placed along the side of the road. Scattered along the roadside, are what can only be described as peculiar-looking roadside memorials. They resemble birdhouses, with crosses and sacraments of Greek Orthodox. Or in simpler terms, as one of my travel companions put it, they can be thought of as "bird churches.”

Driving etiquette is inexistent in Greece. Drivers will not think twice to cut you off or tail you. Luckily, however, there is not the violent road rage phenomenon you see in the US. That's not to say the Greeks don’t like to yell at each other. I thought they'd be more sympathetic to foreigners but no luck there.

As I was making my way through the tiny streets in Napflio, I accidentally struck an old woman's car. Well, let’s just say that my side mirrors struck her car.

Driving away, I could hear her yelling at us in Greek at a mile a minute. The only word I could decipher was "Malaka!"

Malaka seems to be one of the most common phrases in Greek, meaning either "Hi friend," or "Up yours," depending on context. Angry that this lady had the nerve to yell at us, I yelled,"Malaka!" back at her and shook my fist. I don't know what damage I had caused to her car, but, luckily, our rental car had collapsible mirrors.

Apart from the language barrier, road signs in Greece are not particularly helpful. Even when you start to learn some of the Greek alphabet and can compare city names on signs with those in your handy travel book, often times it seems as though you just drive in a huge circle.

At one point, we followed a sign that we thought would take us to Kalamata but instead made us drive through unpaved olive tree groves for a few miles. The view was beautiful, and we could have kept driving for hours but decided that it was in our self-interest to turn around and try to get back on actual roads. Eventually, we stopped at a gas station to ask for directions.

My Greek conversational skills probably didn’t impress them much because one of the attendants started speaking to me in English and the other in German. They showed us the road to take, and we eventually made it to our destination with no major setbacks.

The most disconcerting part of that jaunt was a fairly long, one-lane bridge over a river. I kept having flashbacks to those treacherous mountain passes. This time, there wasn’t even any room to veer off to the side if an enormous truck were to come our way.

Danger and stress levels aside, driving in Greece was a very memorable part of my trip. It provided some breathtaking views and made me grateful that I didn't have to drive through pure chaos once I got back home.

Although driving in Athens made my blood pressure rise about 100 points, it was oddly Zen at times. I can't recall a time when I was more alert and on my toes than driving through that ancient city.

Jesse Krist has traveled in Asia, Europe and through the U.S. He lives in Phoenix, Ariz.

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