We stayed at the last beach for a total of 3 weeks. We tried to isolate ourselves and not stick our necks out. When needed, we went shopping, otherwise we didn't leave our spot. We started to become friends with local fishermen, and when the weather improved, we socialized more with our neighbors in caravans.

To save gas, we built an outdoor oven from stones, sand, and clay and baked bread in it. Otherwise we also made lunch on the grill several times and came up with other ways to improve our castaway-style stay here. A garden wouldn't be bad, right? I even found materials among the garbage for building a cold frame!

During the week we worked and studied, on weekends we went exploring the surroundings. The coast here is largely rocky, so it was a good workout for us just jumping on rocks for several hundred meters there and back.

Change is life

After three weeks of peace, however, the police came to us. Two cars slowly approached and when they were almost at our spot, they honked. We had to leave our vehicles, hand them our passports and van documents, and then dutifully stand at least 2 meters away from them. There were 4 gentlemen with masks, but only one spoke English with us. It wasn't the best English, but if you add hands and feet, you can understand each other.

They wrote down our information and informed us that the next morning we had to leave this place and go to Drepano campground in the town of Igoumenitsa. If we stayed and a patrol came, we'd pay a 5000 Euro fine! They also repeatedly promised us that the government had opened the campground for us and that it would be free for everyone for a month. The whole conversation was generally friendly in spirit, we laughed a bit, and with a smile we agreed we'd move. With all the neighbors (7 vehicles total) we agreed on a meeting place from where we'd all drive to the campground together.

This plan changed slightly when the police came again in the evening and told us they'd come for us Friday at 10 am and escort us all to the campground together. We took it as help in case the campground owner had any objections to our claim that it should be free.

In the evening Leo and I went for a swim in the sea, which was slowly but surely warming up for us, and then had a small barbecue with our closest neighbors on the beach as a farewell to this place.

New and newer surprises!

The next morning we cleaned up, packed everything, refilled water, and waited together for the police. They arrived ahead of schedule, lined us up nicely, and slowly escorted us to the new place. At the regional border we switched police cars and arrived safely at the campground, where other surprises awaited us.

At the entrance some local TV station was already filming us. We nicely drove to the spots prepared for us and thought to ourselves it wasn't so bad, since we didn't have a choice anyway. After a while, however, the campground owner ran over and claimed these spots cost 5 Euros/person/day. So we tried to object that the police said something different. And that we actually don't need to be connected. But supposedly there are no other spots and we should go sort out the rest with the mayor.

What are our options?

So we went. All the inhabitants of the new caravans gathered as one and went to talk to him. He was just doing a TV interview that we didn't understand at all. We just hoped he wasn't saying something that could have bad consequences for us. Then through a translator he told us that the campground really isn't free and that they're doing this whole thing for us so we'd feel safe here. We had our own thoughts about that. The original beach was also safe for us. For us 10 Euros isn't terrible and we're able to pay it, but with us are for example some Erasmus students who don't have that much money and don't earn like we do.

Suggestions were made that they could work off their stay here, but the owners just laughed at that. In the end we all stayed, though upset and with the feeling that someone had deceived us. We all wrote to our embassies at least asking for advice and if they could at least help translate that report so we'd at least know how we're being presented to the public.

That evening we speculated about our options, contacted our Greek acquaintances asking for advice, and also lightly drank with the neighbors. The French, according to their embassy's response, have another option – on Thursday there's a ship for them to Ancona, Italy, and from there they'll have 24 hours to get to France. Our embassy hasn't responded yet, which we understand – it's an extended Easter weekend, so why would they be at work Friday evening?

And so here we sit over a glass of wine wondering what's next.