NORTH TO ADVENTURE – ROME TO SIENA

Our journey northward saw us leave our camp ground to coincide with the morning peak-hour.

It is not as bad as it sounds with so much congestion no one is moving any faster than we can pedal and in fact it takes us quite some time to clear the outskirts of Rome.

Our first day sees us heading towards the medieval walled city of Viterbo. The journey takes us past a number of villages and a volcanic lake called Lake Breschinno.

A short detour to get a closer view of the lake from the route chosen by the Garmin was not a wise move. What had previously been plotted as “B” roads now degenerated into what can be described as a 1000 year old goat track.

To add to the experience, we find ourselves in the middle of a thunderstorm, with torrential rain making the climb of these tracks impossible to cycle. We are forced to push our bikes a number of kilometres uphill but this is after we have had to backtrack about 10kms as that route was completely impassable. The navigation feature has now been consigned to history and only the map feature will be used from now until the end of the trip.

Soaking wet, we ride into our destination with light beginning to fade – and so was Vikki.

Once inside the walls of Viterbo, the streets reduce to no more than the width of footpaths back home. There is no logical grid pattern to the street layouts with all streets being one way in order to accommodate vehicular traffic.

 

We reached our intended B&B for the evening to be told by the proprietor that he was fully booked. Neale must not have offended Huey the previous day as the proprietor contacted his father who owned another nearby B&B. Five minutes later we met and was guided through the labyrinth of streets to our room for the evening.

We finished the day in this beautiful room decorated with his wife’s paintings of scenes from rural China. The whole establishment was adorned with Chinese décor. Apparently they had spent 3 years living in China whilst he served as a logistics officer for the Italian military attaché to Beijing.

After a good feed of pizza and a great night sleep, we awoke to have breakfast waiting for us. Neale is not coming home as a typical Italian breakfast consists of coffee, croissants, cakes, cookies and jam tarts – devouring these treaties as I give him the “evil eye” whilst nibbling on bread and jam.

Our host then gave us a guide for sightseeing within the medieval quarter and we find ourselves not living Viterbo until 11am.

If you ever find yourself in Viterbo, then look no further for accommodation than the Oriental B&B – amazing (www.bboriente.it).

Not far out of Viterbo Neale is surprised to hear me talking to another person while we are cycling. Enter Jussi from Finland – our riding partner for the day.

The day then degenerated into nothing more than a drawn out version of Saturday morning’s “dick fest”. Not wanting to let the young buck win, Neale pushes his pedals up and down the climbs with me dragging the chain behind. Thank God we only had one road to follow – stick to the SS2 I kept saying to myself when I lost sight of both of them.

We are finding today that this road leads to all villages and that all these villages are parked on top of the highest hill in the area!

We leave Jussi around the 70km mark to be met by a road closed barrier at a major bridge. The detour road can be clearly seen winding its way towards the heavens and another village that looks like its perched upon the Matterhorn. Get bent is the response from Vikki to this option and bikes are soon lifted over the barricade and onto the slightly bowed bridge.

The next 10kms sees us riding on a highway almost to ourselves and a 900m tunnel – our first tunnel where light at the other end cannot be seen. It is the first time that head and tail lights were required and quite eerie as there was no internal lighting or traffic to be seen.

 

The next day sees us begin our adventure into Tuscany with the city of Siena being our stop for the evening.

The views on the ride are just as you see in the postcards with endless rolling hills being covered in a carpet of wheat and the roads to Villas being lined with Pencil Pines. Now that I have old Cecil the Ram back to myself, I was able to take in the surrounding rather than concentrating solely on breathing – oh what a feeling!

 

We pull into Siena around midday with our previous wide highway narrowing down to one-lane to pass through the city gates.

Again we are met with a web of cobble one-way street, lane ways and old brick buildings almost blocking out the sunlight to the street below.

We stop for a quick bite to eat and in looking for a better angle to shoot a photo of an old building, stumble upon the massive central square that is the heart of Siena.

We then make our way to the Basilica – the most ornate of any church we have seen to date.

We find ourselves now grabbing a rear afternoon’s respite before heading 110km to Pisa tomorrow.

Night.

THE SECOND COMING OF ROME AND THE RISE AND FALL OF SPARTACUS VIKTORIAS

We have made it to Rome and have booked into Camping Roma for 4 nights.

We decide to spoil ourselves and celebrate Neale’s 49^th birthday by being typical tourists and booking tickets on the Red Hop-on-and Hop-off Bus and “Skip the Line” tickets for the Colosseum and the Vatican.

Let’s just say that as the day progress, so did Mr F’s temper (and kid you not Mrs F reared her head as well.)

We had a plan – a plan so cunning you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel. Our plan did not include continually waiting 30 minutes for the Red Bus which was advertised to have a 10 minute pick-up time, being told that our “Skip the Line” ticket for the Colosseum meant that we were given a time of 4.30pm that we could enter (and it was only 10.30 in the morning) and culminating with Vikki making a spectacular fall from the top of the double decker bus to the bottom floor backwards. The only thing really achieved was a visit to the Pantheon.

 

Like the Trevi Fountain at the present we were drained and decide to call it quits and attempt to celebrate Happy Birthday Neale Marked II tomorrow.

Birthday 2.0 went off without a hitch. Copious coffee was consumed and the Colosseum conquered before lunch.

   

The afternoon saw us travel to Papa Francesco’s digs for a visit of his private collection, WOW!

If you have ever wondered where the very best pieces from Antiquity ended up it is at the Vatican Museum. The word plundered springs to mind but at the risk of offending anyone I will leave it at that!

 

We then proceed to the various chapels painted by Raphael and most famously Mick Angelo. The Sistine Chapel was absolutely packed with everyone’s head looking to the heavens. The ceiling fresco’s detail and depth was striking. I’m not saying that my husband is a little different, as everyone in the chapel was looking up, Neale was looking at the walls which were painted to resemble curtains. Now again if you know Neale, you would know that he can recite all the line from any Monty Python movie. So at his best I hear “What the curtains”! I am feeling lucky that the majority of people here do not understand English. Normally a striking photo of the Sistine Chapel would positioned below but as cameras were prohibited we won’t be showing you any that may or may not have been taken covertly.

Speaking of striking it is no wonder Neale did not receive a lightning bolt with his little running commentary – for example, we passed a painting of the ascension of Jesus only to have whispered in my ear “Wendy I can fly”! Another of Neale’s famous comments as we passed a beautiful painting of Jesus emerging out of the tombs with his arms raised – “I’m OK everybody!”

 

Home we go quite cuffed that we accomplished all planned events and topped the evening off with dinner at the camp restaurant in lieu of the proceeding evening’s tasty bowl of cereal.

Yeah!

THANKS MR PARKER – POMPEII

I can thank my Grade 4 teacher Mr Parker for my interest in Pompeii. I can still remember the lessons about the volcano, what happened to the people and of course the famous dog.

So off we trot to spend a few hours at the ruins. Yes I can actually say I was truly looking forward to this one!

We spend the first 2.5 hours weaving around the ruins of the city. Starting to feel a little let down as they looked like many of the Roman ruins we have seen so far.

About to leave and we see another track of tourists moving up another pathway. So we promise ourselves another 30 minutes before leaving – well were we blown away.

We go past the restoration section where we see lots of people working on casts of the villagers. Neale asked if these casts of voids in the ash layers still contain bone fragments and personal effects. He was then shown a cast that contained skull and bone fragments. We were also was told that once the casts were completed, copies were taken before the original cast is broken into to retrieve these fragments and any other “goodies which were then sent off to the museum.

Two doors down and we find 2 3D printers working away to make scale models of objects.

We then decide to venture up to the ruins of a villa – WOW!

We finally hit the “trevor trove” of exquisite wall painting and mosaics.

Finally we find the plaster cast of the famous Pompeii dog locked up with rows and rows of other artefacts.

So thanks Mr Parker!

THE ROAD TO SORRENTO

We have just concluded our ride of the Amalfi Coast, pulling into Sorrento this afternoon.

We have not seen a single straight piece of road in two days of riding, a straight here is 50m long. This lack of the linear is what makes this place special. Around every bend is a new view,

a new village

  

or a new geological structure not seen before.

The scenery has been spectacular and the cycling equally so. Although the road is narrow, often a single lane at times, the surface has been smooth and well maintained and the steepest grade not more than 6%. The traffic has been accommodating of cyclists and we’ve seen the most in the last two days on the road since our trip started.

Neale has been playing with his “poor man’s” version of the GoPro. You can picture him motoring down the bendy roads, holding his camera in one hand and the other holding the breaks. I blame you Mr Christie for putting this thought in his head. Maybe he will get one for his birthday that is in 5 days.

I finally got my 50^th birthday present from Neale. You guessed it right – it is a ceramic donkey playing an accordion. We found a shop in Positano full of these beauties but forgot to take a photo for JM. Are you surprised Selena? I have taken off the tag!

Tomorrow we head north along the coast line to Pompeii.

Night!

BEAUTIFUL AMALFI

We are waking up in Italy for the first time. The previous 26 hours saw us catch a ferry from Patras Greece to Bari Italy, then catch two regional trains and 1 bus to cross Italy from east to west finally arriving at our destination, Salerno, at 9pm Monday night.

  Bye Greece.

Hello Italy.

Lucky this one wasn’t our ferry!

We are both still very much under the weather – I don’t know what or who we kicked but Karma is really getting us back.

We start our ride around the Amalfi Coast line around 10.30am. Not bothering with the Garmin today, we followed the coast line on a very narrow two way street. What amazing sites we saw as we twisted and turned along the coast line passing through some very quaint villages.

Looking back at Salerno.

Just looking at the views of today’s ride.

 

Deciding to have lunch at Amalfi itself – 30kms from our starting point – Neale went on the hunt for a sandwich. Coming back with no sandwich but a surprise which when I saw was unbelievable.

Walking across from the shore front of Amalfi, through to the actual centre and you enter a hive of tourist activities. Ceramic, gelato, patisseries, clothes shops line the narrow cobbled streets.

In the centre you have the town fountain where we saw many riders fill their water bottles before taking off again.

As I said, I think this bug that we both have has decided to stay with us for a while, so we were lucky that today’s planned ride was a short one.

Standing along the side of the main narrow street of Amalfi, Neale looks up and see a sign for the Amalfi Hotel – that where he had us staying. So after stashing the bikes in their downstairs garage, showering and becoming regular tourists, we venture outside.

After walking up and down the street, ensuring that we photograph all the donkeys we can for John M, we stop to have our first Italian gelato – yum!

Now off to the beach to dip our toes in the water, only to quickly retreat back to the black sand to warm up again.

Neale took a photo of a beautiful sailing boat for his Dad, as we strolled out on the little jetty.

Finally, before going back to our room to rest, we visited the Cathedral of Amalfi, which apparently contains the crypt of St Andrew – Jesus’s first disciple. Every 15 minutes the bell chime – firstly for the hour and then the minutes – well that is what we thought. It is now 6.30pm and the bells are continually ringing. Neale is looking out our window concerned that the something is going to happen.

We are now resting watching the highlights of the Giro and the Simpsons in Italian – feels like we are home.

Off to Sorrento tomorrow.

Night.

NEALE AND THE NASTY NOSE CUSTARD – MYSTRAS TO OLYMPIA

After Neale’s demise in Sparta, we decided to take things easy for a few days. Still with this mightiest of man colds hanging on, we made a huge effort to move on. (We may have been forced after Neale had broken the men’s toilet system –ahhhh!)

So off we go 2kms down the road to a little village called Mystras. It was my 50^th birthday and we were determined to make some sort of celebration out of the day – even if it killed us.

So we booked into the Mystras Inn and had a huge “nana” nap in the afternoon in celebration of me turning the half century.

In the late afternoon, Neale took himself off to take a little walk down the street. Firstly let me tell you about the road rules in Greece – there are none! You can park anywhere – a pedestrian crossing, the middle of the road and even on the wrong side of the road. Double parking is just what you do when you have to go and grab a “freddo” coffee (yes Terry it is just an ice coffee). So I was a little concerned that Neale, in his weaken state of man cold, might fall victim to a traffic accident. So concerned was I that I took another nap.

Early evening we decided to have dinner at the little restaurant attached to the Inn. It was just perfect. We both had homemade Moussaka – delicious. Then to my surprise out comes Neale’s version of a birthday cake. He didn’t go out for a walk that afternoon, he went out sourcing candles and cakes for my birthday.

Not to do anything by halves – take a look at the only candle he could buy!

(Thanks for all the birthday wishes I received from back home – loves you all.)

Unfortunately we had to leave the candle behind when we took off the next morning to Kalamate.

This was only a 57km ride but the first 21kms were a climb up the range – the upside to this was that the scenery was fantastic.

Now this is where the story of the Nasty Nose Custard begins. Neale still suffering, decides to leave a trail from Mystras to Kalamate that even the largest number of snails would have been proud of. Coughing and spluttering all the way up the range, he left his mark for the next poor idiots that decide to take this climb to follow. The news that night reported a slimy silvery trail being seen from the skies that night.

 

Once we reached the city of Kalamte, home of the Greek olive, we booked into a lovely hotel Neale had chosen for my birthday – that is if we had been able to keep to schedule. Hotel Fontini. The ride to the hotel was beautiful along the beach front of the city. Obviously this is the “in” place to be for the “in” people. All these young Greek Gods playing the Greek version of beach tennis whilst the women bake in the sun. The water here is crystal blue – simply magical. However the sand is like fine grey gravel –mmmmmm.

Arriving at the hotel, it was obvious that both of us were not well and a change of plan required. Neale’s plan had us riding from Kalamata to Olympia (120km) and then onto Patras (119km) to catch a ferry to Bari, Italy. I was now coming down with whatever Neale has and Neale’s nose was still at maximum custard production levels.

Plan B – catch a bus to Pyrgos and then cycle out to Olympia (only 20km), camp the night then returns to Pyrgos the next morning and bus it to Patras on Sunday for our ferry. Sounds easy – yeah….

We booked the first bus tickets on Friday when we arrived in Kalamate, so it was just a matter of getting up early and getting to the bus terminal by 8am. No problems as we are staying in Hotel Fontini so not a lot of unpacking and packing required.

Back tracking a little, as I said I was now coming down with Neale’s disease and was barking like one of the Greek dogs that has chased us on the bikes. (We now believe that Greek dogs have a definite dislike for Australian cyclists.) I suppose natural justice is served in many ways. Obviously I was up most of the night coughing and hacking, so I suppose it was only right that the couple above us returned the favour by sharing a very intimate moment with us in the early morning.

Packed and ready to go, Neale does his version of the Olympic sport of weight lifting and lifts both bikes over the balcony of the hotel to me in the car park.

We make it to the bus terminal with more than an hour to spare, thinking this will give them plenty of time to work out how to store the bikes in the bus. Really the Turks did so easily in Istanbul – should be no “biggie” for the Greeks. Enter the Greek version of a Neanderthal man. I approach his to ask what we could do to assist him – he points and says “wait”. He mutters to himself and shakes his head as if what he has to do is completely going to change his world forever. He mutters to me that he doesn’t know if he can do it. I suggest that he let Neale deal with it (as Neale is only too willing to do) and he again grunts, points and mutters “wait”. Now I think of myself as a “people person” in the workplace. I like to treat those I work with and my students with respect and friendliness. Well Mr Neanderthal man was beginning to push my buttons. I was not feeling the best to begin with and now having been grunted and muttered at was beginning to take its toll. I was about …….. do the girl thing and cry (sorry  Barb), when a miracle occurred and he worked out how to fit the puzzle together. (Now picture the problem as trying to fit a shoe box in an empty suitcase – that was the puzzle.) Eventually we left, watching Mr Neanderthal man still shaking his head as the bus left the terminal.

It took us nearly 2.5 hours to travel to Pyrgos. Quick exit from the bus and bags and bikes counted, we set off for Olympia. Yeah – for the first time we have a flat ride and we are sailing on just over 20km/hr.

We make it to our camp ground by 1pm and decide to have a “nana” nap before venturing down to the village for lunch and then off to the first every Olympic stadium.

When I say we venture down, the last 500m to the campsite was a bit of a climb. Put it this way, we both nearly fell off our bikes at the top!

Down the main street of Olympia, the Olympics is the main theme with national flags hanging down along the street. Oh course we found the Aussie flag!

Sitting at a little café having lunch, we notice a Greek wrestling team just next to us. What’s this! I also see a poster with what I thought was this team “Hellius” wrestling the “Stig”. After putting on my glasses, I realised the “Stig” was in fact a statue of a wrestler. The joys of getting older.

 

We eventually cycle to the archaeological site of the Olympic stadium – yes more ruins. It really was designed like one of today’s Olympic villages with meeting places, official rooms and athletes’ accommodation and of course the stadium.

Of course we were obliged to dawdle our way around the Olympic track – picturing ourselves running into the stadium and making that final lap of to the finish line. Now at my age, being able to visualise things is sometimes better than the actual doing. As Neale and I were taking a leisurely stroll around, we watched as a group of young Germans had a race from one end to the other – oh we remember those days well don’t we Neale.

    

 

We ride back to our campsite for a fruit salad dinner and then off to bed. We have to have an early start as we need to catch the 9.45am bus from Pyrgos to Patras in the morning.

Up early, we are packed and on the road by 7.30am. Riding back into Pyrgos with trepidation –will w receive the same warm welcome at this bus terminal that we did at Kalamate.

Oh the Gods of Olympia must have been smiling at us today. We had the most helpful and lovely help at the station.

On the bus and off we go to Patras.

What is only a 95km drive, takes us nearly 3 hours to complete. Detouring through some little villages on the way, the driver somehow threads the bus through tiny streets, beeping his horn to let people and cars know he is on his way. We have seen a few “Learner” drivers and wonder what type of road test they must take to gain their license here. Maybe it should be called a survivors test – but what seems chaotic to us is very normal to them.

We are now sitting at the port waiting for our ferry which doesn’t leave for another 2 hours. We must look a sight as when we went to get our tickets, the lady was quite surprised that we had booked a cabin room. Neale has just finished fixing his front pannier using his camp lighter and army knife (again we must look like regular tourists).

I am holding off for another hour before I start taking my Kewell tablets – this could be an interesting trip – Neale’s Nasty Nose Custard versus Vikki’s aversion to big blue wobbliness!

Night

SIDELINED IN SPARTI (SPARTA)

Day 1: Leaving Athens proved a little more difficult than expected as our trusty Garmin had us travelling on not 1 but 2 different routes. Deciding this was a major issue to resolve, we stopped for coffee only 2 kms into the 90k ride.

Deciding that the little purple line was the way to go, off we set. This route took us to Corinth via a small island near the commercial port near the back of Athens.

The main highlight of this day was passing over the canal at Corinth via one of only two sinking bridges in the world (the other one is at the other end of the canal). These bridges surprisingly sink to a depth of 9m below the surface.

 

Not a difficult day’s ride – some rolling climbs and headwind

Finally we make it to our camp ground the Blue Dolphin. A neat little place right on the beach – a patch of heaven. They say there is always a double of you somewhere in the world – well we met the Spanish version of Kristine and Bruce back in Hervey Bay. These two have been on the road for 4 weeks and are heading home to Spain via Athens.

O- oh, Neale is starting to get a sore throat ……. but there is some good news – the undies have been found safe and well.

 

Day 2: And we are off to Atmos – an 80km day. The Garmin is back in our good books as it takes us through the local vineyards, olive groves, and citrus orchards. We must have been climbing most of the morning because when we hit the midpoint of our ride, we flew the final kms to our next destination.

 

Finally our dream run of camp grounds came to a grinding halt. What was advertised on the internet was like one of those dating photos – one of 20 years ago. The most distressing part was seeing this little puppy. He was what they call a “free” dog – homeless. He must have been so riddled with flees and mites that he continually scratched and had scratched most of his fur off. We gave him some food and he ate it up and came back for seconds and thirds. It still upsets me just thinking about him – I now know how lucky my little Hubble is that we adopted him.

To top off the mood of the moment, it was raining most of the night – however we were dry and snug in our little tent

 

Day 3: Sees us leaving early as we have a big day ahead of us. It is another 80km day which Neale tells me has a 450m climb at the beginning. Lesson to be learnt here – always scroll down the page to check the full extent of the cross section. Turns out we had a 1310m climb over the first 41kms of the day. It was almost constant climbing. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate hills!

The weather was freaky. From 25⁰ going up the first set of switchbacks, dropping eventually to 10⁰ when we topped out 4 hours later. At least when you are averaging 7 km/hr you have time to take in the views – some of which were simply amazing. Cliff drops down to alpine like valleys with goats and sheep grazing. Little villages dotting the way – some like ghost towns with no sign of life just boarded up dilapidated homes.

 

The last 30kms took us on the main North/South highway and after one more steady climb the last 20kms in Sparta saw the posted speed limit of 70km/hr being exceeded by Neale who clocked 73.3. There was no stopping this boy when he saw the finish line.

After taking photos of King Leonidas, from “This is Sparta” fame, we made our way to our camp ground.

Absolutely shattered from the day’s ride, we quickly put up the tent and unpacked. I was getting concerned as I had not seen Neale for a while – found him in a foetal position with two sleeping backs on him shivering with a fever. He had left everything out of the road today and more.

Dosing him up with Panadol, I watched him as the fever seem to get worse. Our plan was to ride to Kalamata tomorrow for my 50^th birthday. Only a 57km ride but again with another steady climb seeing us reach again 1300m. Change of plan – I think we are staying in Sparta until all settles.

Breaking news, Neale has decided to give me an early birthday present – his cold – got to love that boy!

Hoping to be back on the road tomorrow – but we will see!

Night.

PS Thanks Kath for my birthday video – I nearly wet myself watching it over and over again. Love ya my friend.

 

ATHENS AND THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING UNDIES

Another city and another lot of old relics, that’s not the ancient ruins but us. Two days in Athens and we are feeling as old as this place.

Day one was hectic. The plan, take in as many historical sites as possible and see what’s left in the tank for day two. Starting at the Acropolis we worked outward from there. On the map it doesn’t look like we covered a lot of territory but by the end of the day we were pretty buggered.

 

I’ll try and summarise ancient Athens in dot points and pictures for you;

• Its old, post Neolithic
• They like their art, especially sculpture
• Their buildings were big

• Stairs must of cost a lot of money because you have to take big strides to get up them
• More gods than you can poke a stick at
• A strange fascination with men’s doodles. I mean all the female statues are clothed but the men for some reason are all just hanging out there even though they have garments?

 

• And everyone wanted to own the place, the Persians tried and lost, the Romans tried and stayed a while, the Ottomans tried and stayed a while too, the Italians tried but were too lazy so the Germans took over from them and then lost and to wrap it all up the EU now owns it on paper at least.

 

Day two, should have taken the hint that today wasn’t going to go to plan when I couldn’t find my undies.

 

The intention was to start a little latter in the day and stay to watch the Acropolis illuminated at night. So there is a delay in proceedings while I look for my undies. A half hour latter and no success. No problem really, after viewing the sculptures yesterday apparently it’s the done thing to free snake around here so off we set. Arrive at set metro station to begin exploration only to find map of the city with today’s targets has been left behind at campsite, OK! Walk for a couple of kilometres and stumble upon Parliament House, goodo! Can take a few happy snaps of the guards with pom poms.

Next plan, ride the tram to see the surrounds, bad move! Tram gets increasingly crowded with each stop until no more passengers can fit in. It wouldn’t have been that bad except we have the only man in the developed world who hasn’t discovered deodorant yet jammed in our faces, phew! Off said tram early to be greeted by equally packed tram in the reverse direction. Alight at original tram station and decide to take in the sights of the harbour via the metro. Get off the metro to discover that apparently the harbour precinct shuts on a Saturday. We are then greeted by the only Saturday inhabitants, all of whom just happen to sell every imaginable genuine copy crap that you can imagine. Back on the metro and return to original station feeling that today should have been best spent sleeping in.

 

On the bikes again tomorrow and off to Corinth.

ANARCHY IN ATHENS

Welcome to the birthplace of democracy, culture and philosophy, the things we associate with a truly civilised society. Hell that was 2000 years ago!

Having travelled by passenger ferry from Mykonos to Santorini beforehand we knew the drill. Bikes are the last thing on the boat and the first thing off, the crew like it that way. You line up early at one of the two rear doors prior to entering port. You make a brisk pace to collect your bike which has been laying against a mountain of suitcases on the rear deck (off limits while the ship is under way) and make your way quickly down the gangway so everyone else behind you can collect their luggage in an orderly fashion. Picture this. We take position at the starboard side rear door half an hour before the ship pulls alongside the dock. We wait patiently while the queue behind us and to the port side door grows progressively longer, all OK. By the time the crew take position to commence tying up it would appear that three quarters of the ships passengers are now jostling for position at the rear of the vessel. With the bow of the cat now well in the air with the transfer of weight to the rear, the port side rear door is opened up. We twitch like Usain Bolt in the starting blocks waiting for the starboard rear door to be flung open. We wait, we wait and we wait. By the time the crew get around to unlocking the door, the rear deck is writhing with passengers in a scene reminiscent of a Boxing Day sale frenzy. I see my bike being lifted into the air by a passenger and placed to the side where the fenders had once been. This was a herculean feat as the combined mass of my bike and luggage is nearing 50kg. It shows you the type of desperation and energy that has now swept over the crowd. You know the type of adrenaline rush that people suddenly get when a baby is trapped under a car! I finally retrieve my bike and push my way off the boat, the size of the bike having a battering ram effect. I’m off the boat and turn back to see where Vikki is, oh the horror! We’ve all seen kelpies in a sheep pen walking over the sheep’s backs to get from one side to the other. Now visualise if you will that Vikki is the only sheep in the pen and the pen is filled with Chinese kelpies. Yes that was the scene honest to God!

Finally we are on dry land and still in one piece, but for how much longer? As fate would have it our ferry has docked to coincide with the Thursday afternoon peak hour. A quick check of the GPS and we are on our way through the centre of downtown Athens 9km to the campground. As I’ve tried to explain to Vikki on many occasions, most recently showing her on our quad bike adventure on Santorini, speed is your friend and a good offence is better than a good defence! Now like dogs motorists can sense fear in a cyclist. They go for the weakest but hesitate when challenged. So by having speed, manoeuvrability and showing you’re not afraid to hold your space in a queue, you stand a much better chance of survival. As well as exuding an imposing presence you need to possess six eyes. One for the road, one for the GPS, one for the cars behind, one for the cars beside you, one for the motorist who’s double parked and just about to open their door on you and one for the motorist entering the main road from a small side street who’s just put half his car into the traffic lane to see around the motorist who’s double parked. As testament to the effectiveness of the earlier lesson I have taught my wife I am now writing this blog from the campsite whist Vikki is still looking for an alternate means of transportation from the Pireas harbour area!

More tales of walking amongst ancient ruins and taking 200 photos of pre biblical drainage to follow.

P.S. no photos this times as I only had enough money to purchase the extra four eyes and not an extra hand to take photos as we rode.

SUN, SWEAT AND SUFFERING IN SANTORINI (PLUS DONKEYS)

Well we have just concluded our visit to the magical Greek island of Santorini and what a fabulous two days we had here!

There are two ways of getting to this island, one by plane the other by ferry. The ferry wins hands down for the sheer beauty that unfolds before you as you approach the port of Thira. The inner rim of the volcano, on which this place is founded, rises up steeply from the sea. The wall of this rim is composed of many horizontal layers each one having a different discernable thickness, texture and colour. The colours vary from deep reds to blacks to grey and cream. The whole landscape gives even an amateur geologist an awe inspiring indication of the violent past events that created this island.

We disembark and are greeted by the sight of the only port access road snaking its way down the side of a cliff, this should be fun? As Neale is starting up the climb, a young man from one of the many café along the port comes running up to cheer him on – mental note to stop there when we leave tomorrow.

After a brisk climb it’s time to rehydrate and load up on only quality energy products, our nutrition for this trek taking the highest of priorities!

The climb was a good warm up for the Stelvio later in the trip, OMG I hope we can buy some legs by then?

Riding to our campsite we pass white washed houses, shops, hotels and restaurants, their perch on the volcano rim at times appearing to defy gravity. We decide to make camp for the night and take a closer look at what the island has tomorrow.

As in Mykonos scooters, quads and micro cars of all descriptions swarm like angry buzzing bees. It’s the best way to cover a heap of ground in a short space of time. We pay extra for a mighty 250cc quad, the last 125cc on Mykonos almost needing a push to get up some hills. It wasn’t long into our quad biking adventure that I was advised by my passenger that the speed for this vehicle should be something approaching that of a glacier making its way to the sea. I take this advice on-board and store it in that part of my brain where my maths skills reside. After a quick trip back to the harbour to purchase our next ferry tickets we head to the main centre of Fira.

We are greeted by narrow cobbled streets awash with tourist, I’d hate to be here in peak season as it would be akin to a sardine can. There are no roads toward the top of the rim, only small footways where everything must be brought in by hand. Views of the sea and caldera below are not made from the main thoroughfares, this has been snavelled up by the well healed accommodation houses and restaurants (some with octopus drying in the sun ready to be used in tomorrow’s menu), and a side trip must be made through an unassuming alleyway. It’s not far before a spectacular view unfolds.

 

Walking through the spider web of walkways, it is quite easy to get lost.

We decide to take a walk down to the old port. Years ago, mules and donkeys were used to transport people and goods up and down this winding cobble road. Today, you can ride a donkey for 10 Euro each way or like us walk down and take the cable car back to the top for 5. We don’t know what was more slippery – the smooth stones or the donkey poo and wee from today’s rides.

Wishing we could take our time having coffee at one of the many cafes on the ridge, we had to press on with our quad adventure.

Our next stop was Kamari beach. It black sands and smooth rocks are a contrast to our beaches. The front thoroughfare is lined with seafood restaurants – and we both just love our seafood – NOT!

Again we take to our quad to go to the highest peak on the island. Here we find a beautiful little monastery built at the very top – just like it was trying to get close to the skies. The stained glass windows, beautiful pictures and craftsmanship again was beyond anything we have seen at home. Vikki lit a little candle for someone special back home – we hope they got a warm fuzzy feeling that night from us.

Now Neale had heard about these old broken windmills down in one of the valleys. So off we go down. I am sure he has a hidden desire to be a racing driver as he accelerates through the bends, explaining later that this was a necessity to ensure the bike did skid from under us – yeah sure! I know what is going to reside in his brain next time and it will not be pretty!

It amazes me what Neale can see that I cannot. We seem to be stopping every few metres for a photo. It seems the same to me but Neale can point out the minute difference between this and the last photo he took. What does that tell you about his brain?

It is now approaching 5pm and we have been on the quad since 10.30am. My knuckles are permanently white and tense as I hold on. Really I am exaggerating a little but I must admit if I was driving we would have not seen as much as we did. Neale refers to my cycling as like driving with Miss Daisy.

We go through the Red Beach and up to another town called Oia. Just like the city centre of Fira, its little spider webs of cobbles roads showcase many shops, restaurants, little churches and accommodation. We see two couples being photographed on roof tops and on the edge of the cliff – apparently it has become a favourite for young Chinese people to get married here. We see little units with tiny plunge pools hanging over the edge of the cliff – and there is us with our tent – what a contrast.

 

People are gathering to view the sunset on the island. We decide to venture back closer to our little abode and move to a quieter place to enjoy the sun setting on this magical place and for Neale to take more and more photos.

Now I am giving you a heads-up here – when Neale suggest that you come over to see photos of our trip, either prepare yourself for a sleepover or give a polite excuse (like you have to pluck your eyebrows), as he has taken so many photos so far and we are only in week 4 of our trip. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

We arrive back at our luxurious tent accommodation around 8.30pm – nearly 10 hours later. Buggered and weary, we have a cup of tea and finish off the last of our Turkish Prince Biscuits.

Time for bed as we have to get up early, pack and leave for Athens.

Night.