Greece and a clash with Zeus... We took the overnight ferry from Rhodes and rode into Athens, the birthplace of democracy, home to the ancient philosphers and today, a few anarchists . We spent the day strolling the Acropolis, and then up to the Parthenon for a great view of the city. It might have been even more impressive if the Turks hadn’t stored their gunpowder there. In 1687, an explosion at the site, ripped off the roof leaving us with what we see today.
this 58yr old italian has cycled 100000 km around the world...legend
mmm keara's first cinnabon since India
As picturesque as Athens is, there is an anarchistic sentiment just beneath the surface. Graffiti covers many shutters and empty wall spaces with anarchy symbols sprayed on government buildings, signs and banks. The hotel clerk explained that Greece is going through a lot of problems right now……it’s located at the arse of Europe, all the shit ends up here! Post Olympic debt, high taxes, an enormous public sector that employs one in ten greeks and government debt of 300 billion euro’s….throw a million new emigrants (since 2000) into the pot and you’ve got some issues!
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finally we have a tent!
We quaffed some wine in an old town cafe while riot police milled around, then said our goodbyes. Keara headed for Montenegro to cycle with some friends, while I headed for
Olympia to pay my respects to Zeus, the god of all gods according to
Greek mythology, and the birthplace of the Olympic games.
The next day, just as I was checking out of the hotel, I realised that
I missed a rather important piece of kit. The tent poles! No one
knows how but they’ve vanished. After much scouring, I eventually find a shop where the
owner reckons he can get some replacements from
his warehouse after work. Another irritating delay, but fortunately the tent's fully functioning again within 24 hours I'm on the road again. I left Athens with Charles Wenner, a talented opera
singer with a passion for cycling. He had just finished an audition, so
we rode out to Korinthos, 100km away. It was nice to
have some company on what would have been my first solo part of the
trip.
My clash with zeus started early on in the ride out to Olympia.
Cycling along the main motorway, Zeus first appeared in the form of a
traffic cop. With sirens wailing, he pulls me over and communicates
using wild hand gestures that I must get off the highway, I ask him
why…. its too dangerous. Now at this stage, I’ve biked from India and
I know damn well what a dangerous road looks like and this motorway is
definitely not a dangerous road. It’s shoulder is about 10 feet wide,
the “less dangerous” road that he is sending me to has no shoulder. We
go back and forth for a bit and he begins to understand my point but
he has to do his job and make sure that I get off the highway. …for my
safety. So he escorts me off the highway and I get onto the hideously
dangerous old road…Zeus 1 Pete 0.
The motorway would have taken me to Tripoli then out to Olympia the
most efficient way. ..instead I now have to tackle a few mountain passes
through the Peloponnese range…..where the tour de france teams often
train! By this stage it has been raining for 24 hours, but I suck it
up and start actually enjoying the climb. The road is virtually empty
and winds through lovely quaint little towns surrounded by olive trees
and vineyards. All the shops are closed on Sundays so I do most of the
climb on a loaf of bread and a few snickers bars.
In the afternoon, the cloud and fog descends into the valley and the
rain becomes torrential. I’m drenched to the bone but warm and
charging along with my ipod keeping me motivated. I’m faced with one
final mtn pass and 20 km to get to the next town and I have only 2 hrs
of daylight left. I decide to crank up and then enjoy a big down hill
into Kanvilla…..but Zeus has other ideas. Visibilty goes down to about
20 yards and I hear a big crack of thunder in the distance,…..a
rockslide on the other side of the valley. My ipod then runs out of
juice as I crawl up the steep switchbacks. I'd been climbing for
about an hour when the fog lifts just long enough that I can see
snow up on the pass. A difficult decision, do I throw away the
last hour of climbing and head back to the valley or try and make it
to the top of the pass and down into the valley to find a hotel. I
figure I must be getting near to the top, so I head up into the snow
expecting a downhill around every corner and then Zeus strikes. My bob
trailer tire goes flat just as the rain turns to wet snow…..bugger. I
start screaming at Zeus, throwing stones at the metal barricade to
make my point! I huddle under a tree and with cold wet hands it takes
me about 30 mins to repair the puncture. With only an hour to go now
before nightfall, I make a decision to bike for another 15 mins and if
the pass doesn’t appear I’ll turn back . Just around the corner, Zeus
relents and I come across a small empty concrete storage building
with about an inch of goat shit on the floor. I scrape away the goo
and throw up the tent, tear off all my wet clothes and crawl inside
both sleeping bags …very grateful that keara left hers behind in
Athens. I fall asleep thinking what the heck am I doing in a snowstorm
in Greece, in April and surrounded by goat shit! Zeus 2 Pete 0
goat feces n rain!
By morning, the snowstorm has passed and the fog lifts, I was within 500 metres of the pass but had no way of knowing it. A fast downhill brought me into Kanvilla, I stop in for water at a gas station and the 80 yr old owner says “my friend you look cold, you need a greek coffee, come in”. Within minutes I am served a small cup of unfiltered coffee sludge and a glass of water to help rinse it all down…..I was just glad to have something warm in hands. At this stage I was convinced that I’d left zeus in the mountains…..but he returned in the form of four snarling dogs. Soon after leaving the petrol station, a pack of four dogs give chase and surround me. A tight knit team used to terrorising cyclists, two lil snappers block my path, whilst the other two attack from the rear. One latches it’s teeth onto my tent on the back of the bob trailer, whilst the other goes for my heels. A kick and a flurry of stones keep them at bay till the idiot of an owner calls his pack in. I push my bike up the steep hill to the next town and when I get to the top …..my bob tire is flat, a 2 inch nail is buried in my tire …. Zeus 3 Pete 0 I’m fuming at this stage, its still pouring rain and I‘m drenched, so I concede to zeus and put my thumb out to hitch a ride to Olympia 100km away. Two hours later no one has picked me up, so at 3pm I am faced with biking another 100km with no dry gear to change into and a wet tent covered in goat shit…so I have to make it to Olympia. I’m eventually rewarded with some long downhills through stunning terrain then another 30 kms of hills. I’ve been trying to figure out what people actually do for a living here. For two days now, the roads have been v quiet, most café’s and hotels seem closed, on Sunday they were all at church, but today there’s no excuse…..so what on earth do people do around here. Today’s theory is that they have figured out how to milk the EU road grant system. Rather than go around the mountain, they have maximised the amount of bitumen to lay by finding the highest mountain and fitting in the most amount of switchbacks possible ….the more road to lay, the more profit to make, and the more knackered I am! As the sun starts to set, I’m within 10 km’s of my goal, I’m flying along, giving zeus the big bird…..when my trailer starts to wobble, I look back and I have another flat. Removing the tire,I find two separate puncture sites. By the time I repair them, it’s pitch dark and I ride on towards Olympia …Zeus 4 Pete 0.
petrol stn owner - they like their dogs big out here
the 140 yard dash
The next day, the sun comes out and I’m able to layout all my gear on the hotel balcony and go make peace with Zeus. The museum isn’t much, but the archeological site is impressive, walking around the various competition arenas you can just imagine the place packed with the best athletes the ancient Greeks could produce. There was very little mention of the Olympic games movement today, then again it has come so far from it’s original ideology that Zeus probably wouldn’t approve.. I lay an olive branch at the foot of zeus and humbly walk away…..looking over my shoulder, just in case, our trust relationship in tatters. I leave Olympia the next day with Charles for the ride up to Patra, 150 km’s away. Charles offers to swap bikes for awhile, I climb on his little spitfire of a road bike and can hardly ride the thing…it’s a bizarre feeling with no weight on the bike. I get to hear his opera talents and wow it’s impressive, checkout his work at Biking into Patra at 11pm, we get separated as I am escorted off the motorway yet again. Fortunately Zeus decides I'm forgiven and grants me an event-free ride up to Albania.
so there’s at least a dozen or so others popping in per week.
kearab
peteb2010
