Day 22 – Tuesday 14th June 2011
I’m in Athens! I can’t believe it. This is the first time I’ve ever gotten emotional about achieving something.
For at least the last 15 days, as I’ve cycled further and further from home, I’ve had one line of a James Blunt song stuck in my head. One line, because that’s all I can remember... I’m not really a fan of his. Anyway, the line is: “Gotta ask yourself the question: where are you now?”
I’m not entirely sure why... it’s not even the right question that I’ve been asking myself, it’s more like, “What are you doing here??”
Going through France didn’t seem too bad: I’ve done it loads of times before, especially on motorbike trips with dad, Neil and Pete... it’s just a little different on my own. As I went up the Alps into Switzerland, that’s where the question really started ringing: what on earth was I doing trying to cycle up the Alps with an overloaded bicycle? Not only is it an overloaded bicycle, but a bicycle that’s not intended to carry a load, especially not a load that’s about twice the weight of an American on a diet of Big Macs. Ok, so that might be a slight exaggeration...
Then I got to Geneva. I was last there 5 years ago... again on a motorbike trip, and yet here I was on a bicycle. The question rang out loud and clear as I wrestled with the Grand-St-Bernard and flew into Italy like a speeding bullet.
Pisa was a little odd: the question disappeared for a day. Then I got to Rome and it fired up again, especially as I got sight of the Colosseum and stood in front of the Vatican.
The question was louder than ever as I woke up on the ferry with Greek mountains in the distance, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before I set foot in a country I’ve never been to before.
As the craziness of this trip sinks in, the question fades away and I’m left staring in amazement at the fantastic sights and scenery, overwhelmed at having got here by myself... with a bicycle!
Even so, today wasn’t easy.
After bivvying under a tree, I was away at 6.45am. I stopped off at Argos to do some shopping... (Ok, I just wanted to say that! In fact, the whole reason for me heading east over the Peloponnese mountains instead of north east towards Corinth was so that I could drop by Argos and make a bad joke. I know that’s sad, but aren’t you used to it by now?) Actually, I got to Argos before the shops opened: at a Carrefour Express I was asked to leave because it was only 7.45am and they opened at 8am; and I got to another supermarket at 8.20am and decided to wait the 10 minutes for them to open.
I got to Mycenae and had a quick go at finding the ruins. It looked like I had to go uphill for 2 kilometres and I really couldn’t be bothered, so I continued towards Corinth. I managed to avoid getting on the Autoroute (why am I still calling it “Autoroute”? That’s the French term, I might as well just call it motorway...) and made my way to the sea where a little lie down, a dip in the sea and a couple of hours’ rest with a coke was a good call.
Shortly after 2pm I hit the road again: about 50 miles to Athens and I could be there by 7pm.
First I had to get across the canal that separates the Peloponnese from the mainland. Carefully avoiding the “motorway,” I found a small wooden bridge. I watched as a car went across, and then I followed suit... getting shouted at not only by the bridge supervisor, but also from the driver of a car coming the opposite way. Eventually the supervisor tries English: “On foot! Walk!”
No sooner had he said that than I see why. The front wheel slips between 2 of the planks, almost wedging itself. As I pull it out, the back wheel does the same thing, going down with a thud.
“See, now you have big problem!”
With a heave I get the wheel out, quickly check that the pannier rack is still attached – amazingly it is! – and rather sheepishly walk the rest of the way.
Something doesn’t seem quite right. I pull up next to a wall and inspect. The bolts holding the rack have bent a little more and there’s now a bit of contact between the rack and the tyre. Great. I’ve done about 5 miles since the beach, I’m aiming to be in Athens tonight and I’ve got to sort this rack out right now. Oh well, it could be worse... it could be raining.
Luggage off, tools out. With a bit of coercion, I manage to bend the rack so that some smaller bolts can fit, making the whole thing more solid (assuming I haven’t broken the rack as I bent it by force). The rack is now a little wonky, but it’s well away from the wheel and it feels very solid. Luggage on and off I go.
I notice that there is far less creaking now, especially when I go over some bumps. I stick to the Old National Road, since the new one is the motorway, going right by the coast. The view is awesome and I’m blitzing this section of the journey. Things are going so well...
And then the heavens open. I swerve into a little “mini market” shop by the roadside, buying a can of Sprite to justify me sitting on a bench under the covering as I wait it out. It could be worse... it could be – no, wait, it is raining!
It doesn’t seem like the kind of rain that lasts a long time, but still I’m well aware of the time ticking by. Eventually it eases up a little and I decide to just get going. It isn’t long before it stops completely.
More stunning views as I get to Megara. I’m really careful to avoid going on the motorway (going through the centre of Elefsina instead, which is very busy), and then it happens. The road I’m on – which is still the Old National Road – has a barrier across it and all traffic is shunted onto the motorway. Well, I tried.
Carolyn told me of a campsite in Dafni, just before Athens, so I figure I’ll try to find it.
I stop at a service station to try to get a drink but it’s shut. There’s a man sat there and I ask him where Dafni is... a little further up the motorway. I continue on and see a sign for a “Byzantine Monastery.” I stop to have the last of my water and find that this monastery is completely fenced off. Not much of a tourist attraction.
There are children playing nearby, and a restaurant, so I try to see what it is in case it’s the campsite. I see a big sign saying “Café” and assume that’s all it is. Looking back, I think it was actually the campsite, but never mind.
I get to the outskirts of Athens and pull over to ask where the campsite is. One man seems very helpful: “You go on the big road about 4 kilometres. At the fifth light, turn left.”
I pass the fifth set of traffic lights after about 1 kilometre. The road is now 4 lanes wide – on each side. I keep heading down a hill, growing more uneasy as I’m aware of time ticking by. It’s 8pm already.
I come to a huge interchange. It’s like another motorway is crossing the one I’m on. Motorways in Greece are just like normal roads, except that they are a few lanes wider. There are still shops right by the side of the busy road!
I head straight over the interchange on a huge bridge... and then I see the sign that says no cyclists. Too late. There’s nothing I can do but keep going.
I stop to ask a lady at a roadside kiosk where this campsite is. As she speaks Greek to me, I figure from the tone of her voice and her gestures that I’m not supposed to be here with a bicycle, and that the campsite is back the way I came.
I try to find a way to head back. Stopping at another service station I ask a guy about the campsite. He says 1 kilometre back up the big road.
I find a footbridge over the huge interchange (which is much nicer!) and cycle a little further before stopping to check with another passer-by.
“About 1 or 2 kilometres, on the right you will see Camping Athens.”
He’s absolutely right. It’s now 8.45pm and I feel much better. A good – and much-needed – shower and then food at the campsite’s little restaurant. It’s been a long day so I’m going to treat myself!
Stats
Mileage = 95.64 miles
Riding time = 8 hours 15 minutes
Average speed = 11.5 mph
Top speed = 33.0 mph
Total mileage since start = 1044.7
I’m in Athens! I can’t believe it. This is the first time I’ve ever gotten emotional about achieving something.
For at least the last 15 days, as I’ve cycled further and further from home, I’ve had one line of a James Blunt song stuck in my head. One line, because that’s all I can remember... I’m not really a fan of his. Anyway, the line is: “Gotta ask yourself the question: where are you now?”
I’m not entirely sure why... it’s not even the right question that I’ve been asking myself, it’s more like, “What are you doing here??”
Going through France didn’t seem too bad: I’ve done it loads of times before, especially on motorbike trips with dad, Neil and Pete... it’s just a little different on my own. As I went up the Alps into Switzerland, that’s where the question really started ringing: what on earth was I doing trying to cycle up the Alps with an overloaded bicycle? Not only is it an overloaded bicycle, but a bicycle that’s not intended to carry a load, especially not a load that’s about twice the weight of an American on a diet of Big Macs. Ok, so that might be a slight exaggeration...
Then I got to Geneva. I was last there 5 years ago... again on a motorbike trip, and yet here I was on a bicycle. The question rang out loud and clear as I wrestled with the Grand-St-Bernard and flew into Italy like a speeding bullet.
Pisa was a little odd: the question disappeared for a day. Then I got to Rome and it fired up again, especially as I got sight of the Colosseum and stood in front of the Vatican.
The question was louder than ever as I woke up on the ferry with Greek mountains in the distance, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before I set foot in a country I’ve never been to before.
As the craziness of this trip sinks in, the question fades away and I’m left staring in amazement at the fantastic sights and scenery, overwhelmed at having got here by myself... with a bicycle!
Even so, today wasn’t easy.
After bivvying under a tree, I was away at 6.45am. I stopped off at Argos to do some shopping... (Ok, I just wanted to say that! In fact, the whole reason for me heading east over the Peloponnese mountains instead of north east towards Corinth was so that I could drop by Argos and make a bad joke. I know that’s sad, but aren’t you used to it by now?) Actually, I got to Argos before the shops opened: at a Carrefour Express I was asked to leave because it was only 7.45am and they opened at 8am; and I got to another supermarket at 8.20am and decided to wait the 10 minutes for them to open.
I got to Mycenae and had a quick go at finding the ruins. It looked like I had to go uphill for 2 kilometres and I really couldn’t be bothered, so I continued towards Corinth. I managed to avoid getting on the Autoroute (why am I still calling it “Autoroute”? That’s the French term, I might as well just call it motorway...) and made my way to the sea where a little lie down, a dip in the sea and a couple of hours’ rest with a coke was a good call.
Shortly after 2pm I hit the road again: about 50 miles to Athens and I could be there by 7pm.
First I had to get across the canal that separates the Peloponnese from the mainland. Carefully avoiding the “motorway,” I found a small wooden bridge. I watched as a car went across, and then I followed suit... getting shouted at not only by the bridge supervisor, but also from the driver of a car coming the opposite way. Eventually the supervisor tries English: “On foot! Walk!”
No sooner had he said that than I see why. The front wheel slips between 2 of the planks, almost wedging itself. As I pull it out, the back wheel does the same thing, going down with a thud.
“See, now you have big problem!”
With a heave I get the wheel out, quickly check that the pannier rack is still attached – amazingly it is! – and rather sheepishly walk the rest of the way.
Something doesn’t seem quite right. I pull up next to a wall and inspect. The bolts holding the rack have bent a little more and there’s now a bit of contact between the rack and the tyre. Great. I’ve done about 5 miles since the beach, I’m aiming to be in Athens tonight and I’ve got to sort this rack out right now. Oh well, it could be worse... it could be raining.
Luggage off, tools out. With a bit of coercion, I manage to bend the rack so that some smaller bolts can fit, making the whole thing more solid (assuming I haven’t broken the rack as I bent it by force). The rack is now a little wonky, but it’s well away from the wheel and it feels very solid. Luggage on and off I go.
I notice that there is far less creaking now, especially when I go over some bumps. I stick to the Old National Road, since the new one is the motorway, going right by the coast. The view is awesome and I’m blitzing this section of the journey. Things are going so well...
And then the heavens open. I swerve into a little “mini market” shop by the roadside, buying a can of Sprite to justify me sitting on a bench under the covering as I wait it out. It could be worse... it could be – no, wait, it is raining!
It doesn’t seem like the kind of rain that lasts a long time, but still I’m well aware of the time ticking by. Eventually it eases up a little and I decide to just get going. It isn’t long before it stops completely.
More stunning views as I get to Megara. I’m really careful to avoid going on the motorway (going through the centre of Elefsina instead, which is very busy), and then it happens. The road I’m on – which is still the Old National Road – has a barrier across it and all traffic is shunted onto the motorway. Well, I tried.
Carolyn told me of a campsite in Dafni, just before Athens, so I figure I’ll try to find it.
I stop at a service station to try to get a drink but it’s shut. There’s a man sat there and I ask him where Dafni is... a little further up the motorway. I continue on and see a sign for a “Byzantine Monastery.” I stop to have the last of my water and find that this monastery is completely fenced off. Not much of a tourist attraction.
There are children playing nearby, and a restaurant, so I try to see what it is in case it’s the campsite. I see a big sign saying “Café” and assume that’s all it is. Looking back, I think it was actually the campsite, but never mind.
I get to the outskirts of Athens and pull over to ask where the campsite is. One man seems very helpful: “You go on the big road about 4 kilometres. At the fifth light, turn left.”
I pass the fifth set of traffic lights after about 1 kilometre. The road is now 4 lanes wide – on each side. I keep heading down a hill, growing more uneasy as I’m aware of time ticking by. It’s 8pm already.
I come to a huge interchange. It’s like another motorway is crossing the one I’m on. Motorways in Greece are just like normal roads, except that they are a few lanes wider. There are still shops right by the side of the busy road!
I head straight over the interchange on a huge bridge... and then I see the sign that says no cyclists. Too late. There’s nothing I can do but keep going.
I stop to ask a lady at a roadside kiosk where this campsite is. As she speaks Greek to me, I figure from the tone of her voice and her gestures that I’m not supposed to be here with a bicycle, and that the campsite is back the way I came.
I try to find a way to head back. Stopping at another service station I ask a guy about the campsite. He says 1 kilometre back up the big road.
I find a footbridge over the huge interchange (which is much nicer!) and cycle a little further before stopping to check with another passer-by.
“About 1 or 2 kilometres, on the right you will see Camping Athens.”
He’s absolutely right. It’s now 8.45pm and I feel much better. A good – and much-needed – shower and then food at the campsite’s little restaurant. It’s been a long day so I’m going to treat myself!
Stats
Mileage = 95.64 miles
Riding time = 8 hours 15 minutes
Average speed = 11.5 mph
Top speed = 33.0 mph
Total mileage since start = 1044.7
No comments:
Post a Comment