Tuesday, 10 September 2013

Greece, the border to Rovies


 
Greece, the border to Rovies.
After crossing the border we had forty kilometres to ride to Alexandroupoli, a large seaside city busy with tourists.  We now have the euro, one Australian dollar is only worth 65c, it was 70c last weeks but the dollar has lost ground.  As we walk around things feel familiar.  Brands we recognize, people dressed casually, women riding motor bikes and driving cars, we feel very happy to be here. The shops close between 2pm and 6m, reopening until 9pm. Everything is closed on Sunday except the bars and restaurants.  Graffiti, which is not seen in Asia, Central Asia or Turkey adorn buildings. Along the roads small and large Greek Orthodox shrines honour deceased persons, after so many months in Muslim countries it takes us by surprise.  Supermarkets had a larger variety of foods than we have seen in a long time, Mike was very excited to find Heinz baked beans on the shelf.  Heather no longer feels like the invisible person in the room when Mike is talking with men and is included in the conversation, such a great feeling but taking a little while to get used to. Tea is no longer the go, coffee is the favourite, so now there are coffee bars everywhere.

We visited the foreign police but they could not/would not help us with Heather’s visa extension, their advice is to wait until it is nearly run out and apply in whatever country we are in for the extension.  We will try again in Athens.

At our hotel we met Tom, a young English man doing the North to South ride from the tip of Norway to the most southern part of Spain.  We met Tom along the way a number of times as he had the misfortune to have many punctures which held him up.  He would pass us and a couple of days later be behind us again. We have not seen him for about a week so we assume all is well with him and he is many days in front of us.

We were headed for Thessolonika. When we stopped for lunch at Kavala, we were approached by two reporters who asked if they could interview us.  Lots of people do long distance cycling but it was our age which interested them. A couple of days later a couple in a car stopped to talk to us, they had seen the article in their local newspaper.  We had a repeat of this in Katarini, so we have been in two newspapers now. Perhaps the captions read “two crazy old Australians on bikes”   Our route is along the coast passing many seaside resorts with umbrellas and lounges on the beaches.   The houses are typical Greek, white with terra cotta roof.  It is still hot and while not huge hills like Turkey we are constantly up and down all the time. Take away food is everywhere, cheese pies, souvlaki, gyros and pizza. When the road goes up into the hills we ride through country towns, crops of cotton, almonds, apples and peaches abound. People in the country towns are very friendly. There are a number of businesses closed down everywhere we go. Restaurants are very quiet, tables all laid out but no one sitting at them.  Greece has proper camping grounds on the beach and we have been using them, putting up the tent and going for a swim to cool down. The water is not cold or deep and has no waves, it is like swimming in a large pool.  The Greeks are very proud of their beaches but we find them full of rubbish, cigarette butts in the sand and most have pebbles not sand.

Ten kilometers outside of Thessalonika we took a wrong turn and ended up on a freeway.  We had to ride twenty kilometres before we could get off. We were hot and tired and the thought of finding the right road, cycling back twenty kilometres, then finding the right road into Thessalonika and riding another ten kilometres did not appeal.  We were on the road to Athens and decided to keep going in that direction. The roads in Greece are not very well signed, the two maps we have are often incorrect, roads that do not exist appear on the maps and over the next two weeks we have had to double back a number of times because the roads lead to nowhere. It has been very frustrating.  The main arterial road through Greece is the national highway, a freeway, which we cannot ride on.  Everyone uses this road and we can see why. It is so easy to go many kilometres out of our way trying to find a road leading to Athens.   The signs on the national highway indicated five hundred kilometres to Athens from Thessalonika , taking the smaller roads, after riding three hundred kilometres, we still had three hundred to go.

In the country olives are grown everywhere, in every front yard. It does not rain here all summer and the land is very dry and dusty. We stopped for lunch in a small country town where we spoke to a couple of young men, who lived in Adelaide for five years when they were younger, university students unable to find work over the holidays and not happy about it, both their parents we working but were not confident about the future. We had lunch here, no takeaway, so we went to the baker to buy bread, the small general store to buy cheese and the outside bar to buy a drink and eat our lunch. While we were eating the proprietor dressed a carcass of a sheep for a festivity scheduled for that night, we had been invited to go by the boys but declined, and the local men sat drinking beer.  We left here with almonds, peaches and sugar melon from the proprietor’s garden. Later on the same day we were invited to join a group of men having a beer after work at an outside bar, they were all working and telling us not believe what we hear about the Greek economy, they were all working and happy with their lot. But at other times people tell us things are not good, they are not spending, just in case, and expect it to take twenty years before Greece is back on it’s feet and that Greek people will have to make changes to work habits.
Heather had her second puncture, the last one was just before Perth.  We were just about to descent into the port town of Volos, so Mike repaired it by the side of the road.  We had a rest day here, hoping to catch ferries and island hop, but the ferries just went out and came back, they did not go from island to island. Mike’s bike had a rear wheel bearing wear out so that was replaced while we were here. We have now ridden 14,000 kilometers since we left Cranbourne and the bikes have given us very little trouble so an occasional puncture and a worn wheel bearing are minor hiccups. At the harbor a replica of a fifteen hundred BC craft was moored. A wooden vessel with oars, the Augo, said to be used by Jason to return the golden fleece with his crew called the Augonauts.  Leaving Volos we continued on the coast road, again badly signed.  We stopped to ask directions and locals told us we need to use the national highway, the roads were difficult to negotiate, there were no signs saying no cyclist and we should just go on the road, all the police can do is ask us to get off.  So we took their advice and went on the national highway but after only thirty kilometres  we were then asked to get off by the national highway authorities. Fortunately, the exit took us to a road leading to a ferry which we caught across the bay to Agiokamio, and from there we rode to Rovies, a quiet little coastal town.  The next day was Father’s Day so we decided to give Mike a break and booked into a hotel.   Not a busy hotel so no hustle and bustle, a garden with large shady trees to sit it, and a room with space to unwind in.  We have had very few days off in Greece, there have been no major attractions, we bypassed Thessalonika, focusing on getting to Athens which has taken us longer than we expected so we had an extra day here, enjoying the break. 

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