In Search of Trigona and Another Trip to the Hossy!

Day 2 in Thessaloniki was a wash out. So was half of day 3 and the whole of day 4. Anyway, on day 2, the day after the carnival, I headed out into the expansive city of Thessaloniki to see what I could see. Thessaloniki is named after the daughter of King Philip II of Macedon and sister of Alexander the Great, so you know this city is going to be steeped in history – but where to begin exploring it?

I mentioned in my previous post that I’d felt overwhelmed by the vastness of Thessaloniki. I’m a planner. Not only is it a crucial skill required as a travel agent, it’s also in my DNA. Planning is what I do best – but not on this occasion. Still feeling a bit poop from this dratted virus didn’t help. I needed to regroup. I started by booking a tour to Vergina and Pella for day 3. That was something definitive that required very little effort apart from clicking a few buttons on Get Your Guide. I had a sort of plan for Day 2 but it ended up disintegrating into a pit of despair (or was that me?)

I managed to make my way down to the waterfront to the statue of Alexander the Great. Yep, nice statue but not shown off at its best on this cold and overcast day.

TBH my heart wasn’t in it for any sight seeing. However, as I wandered aimlessly around the city I did rack up a little collection of street art. There – the whole visit wasn’t a complete washout. I’m being sarcastic. It was a complete wash out. The issue wasn’t lack of planning or direction. I was feeling ropey again. Just when this damned virus seems to be on its way out, it comes back and gives me a swift kick to my backside.

I paced up and down the waterfront feeling utterly exasperated. Time for another regroup. What would make me feel better? Where can I find something representative of Thessaloniki and could also give me the lift that I needed? Bougatsa right? Well, as much as my love for bougatsa is well documented, one thing that I love just a little bit more is that delicious custardy triangle of deliciousness Trigona Panoramatos. I felt terrible saying that like I’ve just cheated on my one true love! (Love you Booboogatsa!) ❤️

Thessaloniki is the home of Trigona and Bougatsa (see how I’ve used a capital B like they are living entities?) and famous for its pies and pastries. Finding somewhere that sells these little triangular beauties amongst all the patisseries that seem to be on every street corner should be easy, right? Well not today anyway. I called into several and then called up the whole list of patisseries on Google Maps. Nobody sold trigonas. I was one step away from going all King Richard III and throwing myself on the ground of the streets of Thessaloniki – “Trigona, trigona, my kingdom for a trigona!”

Just as I was about to give up I stumbled across Konstantinides Patisserie on the junction of Mitropoleos and Mela. Wow, this place was like Willy Wonka’s factory but for grown-ups! There were no Oompa Loompas here though. The staff were all dressed in smart chefs’ uniforms, including a tall toque blanche each carrying out their tasks from whipping up meringues to decorating cakes. This place is incredible! The owners of the patisseries hail from Asia Minor and have been satisfying Thessaloniki’s sweet tooth for over 100 years.

Yes, they did tragonas and they would fill them freshly for me. I ordered two and headed back to the hotel to devour them both with a nice hot cup of tea. So the day wasn’t completely wasted!

As per previous post, on day 3 I’d spent an interesting and delightful morning at the Railway Museum. It’s fair to say that I’d woken up that morning feeling not that great. Surely after a month of having this virus it should be on its way out by now? In the words of my late Aunty Pat I decided to “Keep on buggering on!” That’s what the women in our family are like – me included. Stoicism is our middle name. Maybe that isn’t always the best approach.

In my head I thought I’d go straight from the Railway Museum to the Acropolis of Thessaloniki to see the Heptapyrgion – Yedi Kule. By the time I’d got into the taxi back to the city I felt dreadful. I had no energy and my body felt like it was on the verge of near collapse. The most worrying thing was that I was struggling to breathe on the in-breath. Bloody hell, not another trip to the hospital? I could see a private doctor, but if I need to have chest x rays etc I’ll probably have to go to the hospital anyway. Let’s cut out the middle man. I asked the staff at the hotel to call a taxi for me. Luckily there was one having a coffee in the hotel’s cafe. Maria warned me that I’d be waiting for many hours but I was prepared for that. I’ve had excellent practice with the NHS.

I don’t know which hospital Maria had asked the driver to take me to but I arrived at the General Hospital of St Demetrios. Nothing was clear where to go or what to do. There was no central point of contact so I had to accost people in uniforms in the corridor. Some ignored me but eventually one told me to sit and wait and pointed to some chairs. One hour passed and I continued to wait. Something was odd because I was the only person waiting here. After approaching a man pushing a medicine cabinet, I asked him where the doctor was and pointed at various doors. After consulting with someone, he told me “another hospital”. It transpired that I needed to go to the other general hospital Gennimatas. Thankfully it was within walking distance and downhill.

Here there was a system. The lady on security pointed me to a window. At said window, a lady asked me what I needed and then asked for my passport. I also handed her my GHIC. (Always carry these with you as you never know when you’ll need them – plus it’s always good to have documentation should your body ever need to be identified.) She printed off a strip of stickers and told me to go into the entrance 10 yards down.

Here it was again confusing and very busy but at least there was a system in place which made things a whole heap easier. Eventually, my name was called and I went in to see a doctor (I think). I told them the problem and was told to go back outside and wait again. Maybe I’d just been triaged – I wasn’t sure.

After another period of time (God knows how long) I was called into another room with a row of bays, a desk with a doctor and several staff bustling around doing their jobs. After speaking with the doctor I was blood tested, blood pressured, ECG’d and auscultated (I had to look that one up – I thought it had another name!)

Finally, I was sent for a chest x-ray. I was told to go and wait in the next section, a larger room/corridor which was incredibly busy. Imagine a cross between any innercity NHS A&E on a Saturday night combined with the post-battle scene from Les Mis. Something like this. There were old ladies sprawled across chairs and others sitting on the floor. A young man arrived on a trolley in severe pain after a bike accident. There was lots of moaning and groaning from all directions. As the room filled with more of the walking wounded, I searched my bag for a mask. If any viruses were looking for an outlet to spread and multiply, this would be the perfect breeding ground. All I need now is a touch of Norovirus to polish me off completely. I couldn’t find a mask so did my best to bury my face in my scarf.

Eventually the X-ray took place and I was told to wait for the report. Once I had this in my hot little hands (literally) I was told to go and wait for the doctor again. Anyway, the upshot of it was that I was put on a nebulizer. This definitely helped my breathing, though did nothing for my general state of unwellness. After nearly 5 hours I walked back to the hotel and fell into bed where I stayed for the next two days. I had to cancel my trip to Vergina and Pella but thankfully I was able to organise it for another date. Oh well if I had to be sick (again) at least I’m sick in luxury at the Maroon Bottle Suites! Plus I still had snacks from Maria my lovely host in Edessa.

In parts this trip has been a bloody shocker. It seems to have been one relapse after another. I can honestly say that I’ve never had a virus quite like it. Anyway, these things happen at home and whilst travelling. It isn’t the purpose of my travel diary to paint a picture of rainbows and unicorns. It isn’t. This is me documenting my travel experiences exactly as they happen. My husband, who was still in Egypt, urged me several times to cut my losses and go home. He even suggested that he come and join me. I’m past the halfway mark now so may as well see it out. I am however, taking things very easy. Very, very easy.

It’s a shame I haven’t seen much of Thessaloniki but at least I was able to see Carnival and the Railway Museum. On the plus side of feeling poop, I’ve saved a fortune on restaurant bills! Always a silver lining!