A Whiter Shade Of: Greece

All those years ago, when we were all young and foolish boys coming out of high school and the idea for this trip was born, I pinned Greece as one of the must dos. Islands that couldn't be missed, waters that had to be swum in and sun that had to be soaked up. Back in those days we even envisaged taking a break from the trip and working on super yachts, sailing around the Aegean for a few months, working on our tans before resuming the trip with a bit more money in the bank. As the years progressed to departure and the realties of logistics and planning set in, that lofty idea was forgotten. However, Greece still was one of the places I'd looked forward to the most. Many a time on those tough days in Asia and those freezing nights in Georgia and Turkey, I dreamt of being in the famous postcard scenes of the islands. For so long it seemed very, very far away. A mystical place that would take a lot of time and effort to get to.

And then one day it happened.

We were sitting on a beach on the island of Chios, Turkey still easily in sight. I sat up and yelled, “Fuck!”. I couldn't quite believe it. I was on a beach on a Greek island, a beer in one hand, sun on my pale chest. Gruelling, freezing days behind us. 11 months and 16,000km under our belts, all those kilometres leading to that moment. I must say it was quite a surreal feeling. There are many moments like that on this trip. Points you look forward to for a long time and then suddenly they happen and you move on just like that. I think it is teaching me to really try and savour the moments and live in them, because soon they'll be gone and you never quite know what might be around the next corner. And that is the truth about the trip as a whole as it approaches the end. This big trip that we dreamt of for so long now sneaks towards it’s finish and soon we will blink, we will be back home and it will be done, a scary and strange thought!

That morning we’d awoken early at our last Turkish host’s place, saying goodbye to him and his puppies and set off for the short ferry to Chios. On Chios we immediately went to the nearest ferry ticket office and discovered that we’d have to catch a ferry to Athens and then another to get to Mykonos. Around 9 hours total boat time, with the first ferry leaving at 11.30 that night. The postcard shot would have to wait. We spent the day with Clement, a solo cycle tourer from Switzerland who had perchance seen us in Istanbul and was also using Chios as his launchpad to other Greek islands. We killed most of the day at the beach and then sheltered from a vicious wind in an abandoned yacht club, drinking cheap wine in a reminder of the country’s recent economic troubles. The process of getting onto our overnight ferry saw us ride in the dark and wind to a busy port with men dressed in camo, checking each truck loading in. Soon we were on and found ourselves in the smokers’ area. Exhausted and battling a few stomach cramps, I went straight to sleep. After a room change to escape the smoke and attempts to fall asleep in uncomfortable chairs, we found ourselves in Athens, only to be leaving it not long after. It was odd to find ourselves somewhere we would cycle out of in a week's time, only to be headed a long way in the other direction on the next ferry, which took about 5 hours.

I'd like to say we ate a lot of fresh fruit on the island but we didn't, the only fruit we got was in our drinks

It was midday when we arrived at Mykonos. The sun was out. The sky was blue. All the buildings I could see around were white, contrasting against the dark brown, rocky land and the old built up area in the distance glistened in the light. As we set off on our bikes in our casual clothes I pinched myself, an unforgettable moment. This was the real thing, that place i’d dreamt of for so many days and years and seen so many photos of on a screen, as they are for you right now dear reader. The pictures on the screen were now right in front of me and, at the end of the day, thats what this trip is so often about. My excitement pushed me along the road with the help of a sensational tail wind, so strong that, as we climbed over the hump of the island (which Timmy was rather disappointed about having to do), I nearly attempted to not pedal to see if the wind was strong enough to push me uphill. After winding through narrow roads, lined with small stone walls and ochre fields dotted with white houses and small white churches, we descended down towards Paradise Beach, our home for the next few days.

The lads outside our favourite bakery (the first one we tried and decided to stick with)

Old Mama on the balcony knows what it's all about

After over 30 days in Turkey without accomodation costs, the 21€ each per night for two small cabins with a light, a bedside table and two single beds was a shock to our wallets. But the beach and the bar beckoned, the combination of which helping us soon put the cost out of our mind. We plonked ourselves down on the sand and ordered ourselves a silly drink in a silly pink bucket and obnoxiously long straws. The thumping music from the beach bar began, accompanied by the hype man, alone on the mini stage out front, trying to seduce a crowd. Cries of “Welcome to Paradise”, “Here we go!”, “Guapaloca” and “Mykonos!” smothered the air and became the soundtrack to our time on the island. After a long journey to get there it was a bit much to get used to at first, but a swim and a bit more alcohol got our energy levels up again. We couldn't afford to buy a meal at the restaurants, so broke out the camping gear and cooked up a simple dinner before getting in a bit more exercise on the dance floor, unashamedly displaying our fairly mediocre dancing abilities (speaking for myself at least).

And so went most of our time on the island. A sunny, hazy blur between the beach, the water, the bar and the cabins, with a few trips to the shop in between. Relaxing and letting our longer and blonder hair down a bit was what we needed. The highlight of Mykonos however broke this vague routine. A trip right into old town on the hourly bus transported us into a postcard setting. Everywhere you looked there were postcard shots, tourists and amateur photographers like myself darting their eyes about looking for their own perfect shot to take away. Little fruit shops, bakeries and clothes shops. The warm burgundy of bougainvilleas occasionally breaking the cool surroundings of the white-walled buildings and blue windows and doors. The streets were a narrow, winding maze, with tourists negotiating the lanes and quickly snapping photos before the ideal shot was ruined. We later learned that the streets were laid out in such a way as to confuse the pirates whom frequently landed and attempted to raid and plunder the old town. Now the confusion is owned by the thousands of tourists each day deciding where to get their next meal or which bar has the best view out to the water.

When it came to leave our humble cabins and cycle back over the hump of the island to the port I was somewhat reluctant. “Paradise Hotel” had been close to exactly that (although Timmy may disagree). As we waited at the port in the early morning light, the surrounding white buildings bathed in an orange tinge, I looked out across the bay with more than a slight feeling of sombreness. Just like that, one of the times id looked forward to the most was gone, with barely any time to truly appreciate it. I decided on that port as our ferry came in that id have to be back. Maybe the dream of a super yacht job hasn't died just yet…

Early morning views of Mykonos before departure

My bike and I on a Greek island

Wanted to be out on the water or at the beach, not staring out the window of the ferry

The ferry had us back in Athens with an afternoon to use, which we committed to making the absolute most of. Immediately we walked ourselves a few kilometres to the Acropolis, taking in the views of the city in the baking heat as we circled the hill around the impressive ancient building. Unfortunately for us, it was under repair work and cloaked with layers of scaffolding (something which seems to be a frequent occurrence for us when we visit significant places). Following that we wandered through the streets of the old area of Placa, below the Acropolis, Papi Chen shouting the boys a lovely meal at an idyllic little restaurant. The night was reserved for a few more glasses of our beloved cooking wine before heading to the James Joyce Irish Bar, where we watched Liverpool put on a show in the Champions League semi final. The atmosphere was electric in the pub and the result had us in good spirits. However the late night and a bout of sickness had us laying low for the next day, more rest being the order of the day. Athens was an interesting city. On the one hand it felt like we saw what we needed to in less than a day. But on the other hand it felt like, if you dug beneath the surface and stayed for awhile, you might discover a lively, vibrant place with plenty going on all around you, but sometimes not necessarily in a good way.

That sun was bloody hot

Plenty of tour groups

Still impressive even with the scaffolding

Athens - dense and bright

Stoked

Late evening view from our Athens balcony

When it was time to get back on the bikes I was feeling a bit unwilling. While rest periods are needed and usually great, a few days off the bike (and consecutive nights dabbling with alcohol) can sometimes kill a bit of motivation. Navigating our way out of Athens and through the dusty industrial areas hardly improved that feeling. However, it wasn't long before that all changed. As the main road turned into a toll road and we turned off onto the quieter, coastal option, we were given our first taste of what cycling up the coast of the Ionian and Adriatic seas would be like. Sweeping around one corner we were suddenly greeted with views out to blue waters and small islands, the cliff dropping away from the small winding road. It was some of the best riding of the trip to date. The heat was up and the shirts came off for the first time on the trip, a very freeing feeling. The vibes were bloody good.

Views once we got away from Athens

Sun's out guns out

Corinth Canal - briefly considered the bungee jump on offer

It continued more or less the same for the five ride days to take us out of Greece and into Albania. Winding coastal roads above bright blue waters and under bright blue skies. Hot sun and bare backs. Sweat. Enough hills to get our blood going and encourage vocal performances of all kinds from Timmy. Small villages offering all the things we could need. Coastal camp sites providing refreshing and rewarding swims at the end of each day, as well as cold wake up swims. Iced coffees. Greek salad / pasta rice creations from Chef Fred at camp. Little shrines like mini churches dotting the roadside. The odd bumpy, potholed road and headwind reminding us to keep savouring the good stuff. Dolphins out in the bay as the light began to die. An instance of a fox paying us a very bold visit, wandering through our camp looking for food. Citrus and olive groves surrounding the roads and covering the hillsides. It wasn't the same Greece id imagined all those years ago at the end of high school, but it was just as good in it’s own way. The beauty of this trip - the bikes will take you beyond that first tourist spot that you've seen on a computer screen from miles and miles away and show you what else a country has to offer, what is less appreciated by the average tourists.

Chef Fred's greek salad / rice pasta creation

Loves a sunset

Always helps in the morning when you get a good sunrise

Greece = very blue

My home and office for the last year

Happy days

Dont mind this

Arty enjoying the sun on his back

One of the many shrines that dot the highways, this was a particularly big one, more commonly the letter box size to the right

Views as we eat dinner and dolphins swim out in the bay

Good spot for a mid-ride swim to momentarily escape the relentless heat

On our last full day in Greece we came across a spot around midday that we could not turn down. Another dream camp spot in Greece, which we had had each night on the road. A swim was a must. With Fred feeling sick and all of us not eager to leave the spot, we decided to stick around and enjoy one last idyllic greek campsite. A rare long afternoon of relaxing, working on the bikes and swimming before a bit of unknown awaited us in Albania. As we sat on the rocky shore with our dinner and a cheap bottle of wine a pair of cycle tourers turned up on their tandem bike, much to our surprise. Julian and Claudia, from Germany, asked if we would let them camp next to us. Of course we said yes and ended up spending the night sharing snacks, ouzo (Greek Alcohol) and stories of the road around a roaring fire. We also discussed life back home and beyond the trip, it seemed we basically agreed on everything. Meetings like that always offering an extra bit of inspiration and motivation, reminding us that our trip is actually pretty cool and that we don't have to return to the same old prescribed life that we had - the adventure can and perhaps should always continue.