Between Borders and Belief

Ipsala to Alexandroupoli

Daily miles: 30.39 | Total miles: 11,205.07

I got up at 6:00 a.m. Cold coffee, getting ready, quiet focus. We had parked at a gas station, and I left from there with my headlamp on, running along the road toward the border.

The dog situation worsened quickly, and running in the dark felt scary. After three big dogs came charging after me, I picked up a medium-sized rock that I carried in my pocket from then on—just in case holding out my hand, whistling loudly, and turning toward them wouldn’t be enough. Thankfully, I made it to the well-lit gates. Right there, more dogs appeared, barking wildly.

I passed a house with an open barrier that looked empty. As soon as I went by, a woman came out and asked to see my passport. She disappeared inside, returned it, then wanted to check my vest. After that she waved me on, saying, “Go, go,” toward passport control. I first went to the toilet, then ran to the queue and waited.

Inside, a man made several phone calls and asked me to look into the camera multiple times. Eventually, he also said, “Go, go.” I ran on to the next house with a barrier—what I thought was the final Turkish border control. The man there didn’t seem too happy to see me. He told me I could go through, but warned that the soldiers ahead would likely not allow me to cross on foot.

I asked, half seriously, half desperately, whether I could at least ask them—or if they might shoot when they saw me. He said he hoped not.

So I approached the bridge very slowly and carefully and spotted a soldier carrying a machine gun. I waved and walked toward him. Another young soldier came out of a small military checkpoint building, and I explained that I wanted to cross the bridge on foot. They told me it wasn’t possible. I asked them to call their superior to see if an exception could be made—knowing full well how unlikely exceptions are in the army.

No exception.

A truck arrived, more talking, another phone call—still no exception. They suggested I call a taxi. All of these discussions happened outside in the freezing cold. After a while, I started shaking and could barely use my phone because my hands were so cold. The soldiers were genuinely kind and would have helped me if they could, but with all the cameras and surveillance, there was nothing they were allowed to do.

After two and a half hours of discussions, it became clear that all land borders from Turkey to Greece are currently military zones and under no circumstances crossable on foot. I called my sister and asked if she could drive me the one mile that was forbidden for me to walk or run.

I wasn’t allowed to take a photo with the friendly Turkish soldiers, so please imagine one between the picture with the Turkish flag and the next one with the Greek flag.

I wanted to go back to wait somewhere else, but an officer was upset and told me I had to stay behind a signpost. I was so extremely cold that I asked if I could sit inside their checkpoint house, but they pointed to the cameras and said it wasn’t allowed. So I waited in no man’s land for quite a while—until the officer took pity on me and let me into his office, where another man and a heater were waiting. They even offered me tea. I was grateful, but also disappointed that I couldn’t cross on foot.

When my sister arrived, I jumped into the van, and we drove through the heavily patrolled military zone. After Greek passport control, we parked, had a coffee, and I got ready to run the remaining 28 miles. With the time zone change, it was only 9:00 a.m.

Right at the border, many tractors were parked with Greek flags—farmers demonstrating against government practices. I took a parallel road to the highway and found a good rhythm. The morning had been ice cold, but now the sun was warm and felt kind. Compared to yesterday, the weather was much nicer.

My sister waited here and there along the route. The running felt good, and we laughed a lot, knowing we would end the day at a campsite right by the beach—with showers. Once I arrived: snack, reel, and finally washing our hair. The air in the shower was cold and the water only intermittently warm, but it felt amazing to finally be clean again.

I worked a bit afterward, then we went for a Greek dinner just a few steps away from the campsite. Great day of running, great food, now great coffee.

Thanks for checking in. See you tomorrow.

Be well, Andrea