Yesterday I decided to explore the west side of Nea Ionia, Volos, to the end of the city at Kaliakouda creek, which used to be a river in ancient times.
Leaving the central area of Nea Ionia, the view took a rapid turn to the suburban and industrial.
And just when the chosen route is put to question, due to the uninteresting blockhouses of the 70s-80s, that gave an afffordable home to the workers from the villages around Volos that worked at the city then, a theme to be presented seperately, considering the summer heat building up too, I stumble upon a time traveller:
Rather abandoned as of speaking, the Silo Park right next to an operating factory, patiently awaits better times.
The elementary school nearby and the accompaning cafe for the evercaring parents injects some life to the scenery, as do the pet escorts.
Next up the road to the creek is the railway crossing, which is level for cars,
with the underground pass as an option for pedestrians, bicycles, delivery services and the occasional drug addict.
A rather unexpected rescue from the summer sun of noon is the OSE park right next to the rail, you can even practice trainspotting if you’re lucky or patient enough (the destruction of public train transportation continues in full scale)
Just a tip, if you ever consider wandering around in these places at summer, equip yourselves with water, since any kind of open store is nowadays hard to find!
Eventually, after about an hour of foolin’ around, I reached the Kaliakouda creek, to a point around 50 meters to the right of the main road to Larissa.
A junction with the (now not used for public or commercial purposes) old railway track and the rusty iron bridge.
Of course, not a sign of water this time of year, perhaps at winter it may be a little different (to be checked).
Vegetation takes slowly back what was stolen,
A 180-turn of the head reveals the old railway track entering the city:
Reaching the other end of the old track (leaving back the creek and following the railway on the parallel road), about 300 meters before it meets the newer track, a ghost train semi covered in green and politely seperated from its garage.
Not only rust never sleeps!
More trains than Kaliakouda creek, you might say, but the creek was just α motive for semi-urban walking around, to a place I hadn’t visited before (rediscovering the neighboorhood context).
After all, we don’t always have to travel at the end of the world, since many lost treasures await us right next to our doorstep!
The end.
Time Travel Machine Repairs 