Now I get it

Alix and I once read a book called "Miles from Nowhere" (thanks Liz!) about a couple from California who who cycled around that world in the 70's. Leaving their home, they cycled up the California coast, and she, being a novice cyclist and it being quite windy, she kept getting blown off her bike.

Both Alix and I found this quite unbelievable and decided that she was taking some literary licence or just exaggerating the events somewhat.

Well... Now I get it.

You can in fact get blown off you bike. The wind just needs to be strong enough. The first picture above shows Alix when we were marvelling at how strong the wind was (mere child's play at that point still). We've seen some power generating windmills in our travels, but never this many. That's the first hint. We easily saw over 100 of them on our first day cycling in Evia. The combination of the wind and the way the road was positioned relative to the mountains and the passes made for a couple of spots where it was downright scary. Sorry no pictures of that - it was hard enough to keep the bike upright as I walked beside it leaning hard on it against the gusting crosswind, there was no way I was going to open up a bag to get my camera out. I prayed not to have a flat or any other mechanical problem as I'm not sure how I would have fixed it. Twice I had strong gusts convince me to get off the bike and walk, and twice Alix got blown off her bike (though, as always, she landed like a skilled acrobat). We considered begging a ride from passing motorists, but I have no idea how we would have loaded on our bike in that wind.

Did I mention that the windiest spots were also under construction? So instead of the good traction typical of a well paved surface, we had dirt that constantly threatened to loose its grip on our tires as one minute we would lean hard into a strong gust, and the next we would quickly recover when the wind took a momentary break. Several times we got blasted by the windborne sand and dirt and it stung bitterly and filled our ears and coated our sweaty and sun-screeny bodies. It wasn't the right time for Alix to be wearing the Nivea baby sunscreen that I bought for her (I don't recommend it by the way, it's horrible stuff that leaves you coated in a thick sticky goo, and if you have a baby you should just keep it out of the sun anyway!)

At the time it was horrible, and at one point I honestly thought that I was close to being airborne and getting swept off a cliffside, but now, looking back, it's the type of adventure that bicycle touring is made of. A low point that helps to make the high points that much better. The ups and downs of bike touring!

More cousinly hospitality

Well, we're on round three of our Greece 2008 bike tour, cycling up the island of Evia, which happens to be Greece's second largest after Crete.

We spent a couple of days trying to figure out which way to go and how, combining ferry, train and bike and finally came up with a solid plan. Of course the plan has changed now and will probably continue to evolve. More on that as our story unfolds.

The trip started with a ferry out of Athens. Well, not really Athens, but Rafina. Most ferries leave Piraeus, Athens' main port, but using this port would involve another unpleasant ride from my cousin George's little Oasis home on the east side of Athens through 38km of the battleground which are the streets of Athens. OK, it's not that bad. It's actually not bad at all, but if one can avoid it, one should.

So we cycled to Rafina, only 20km away and in the opposite direction from Athens. Rafina is also where another of my many wonderful cousins lives. Beautiful cheerful, always optimistic Evita is my mother's brother's daughter and I have many good memories of her from our visits to Greece when I was young(er). In classic Greek good form, Evita and her boyfriend Beat treated us to their exceptional hospitality, and we in turn can take credit for getting Evita out on her bike for a couple of short rides. Maybe it will turn into a good habit? I know you're reading Evita...

The next morning we took a short ferry ride over to Evia island, a somewhat overlooked Greek gem, and so very close to Athens. And so part three of our Greek adventure begins.

Beautiful Kythira island

"Is this your first time in Greece?"

"Yes"

"...and you chose to visit Kythira?!"

An odd interaction with an Athenian man driving up a steep hill as we were about to cycle down it. I suppose that Kythira island is not very well know to tourists, so why would anyone come here unless they're visiting their ancestral homeland? Well it's a beautiful island, quite diverse and surprising. Coming off the ferry it just looked bleak and treeless, but after cycling around for our first day, we saw so many different areas it was incredible. Not a lot of cars and many interesting roads winding their way around the island. But it's not for the feint of heart - the conversation continues:

"Are you going to cycle down this hill?"

"Yes"

"and cycle back up too??"

"Well...yes"

"You are a hero!"

Hmmm... We've tackled short sections up to 14% and extended climbs averaging 7%, I won't say "with ease", but it didn't kill us, and in the right state of mind (which I'm ALWAYS in when cycling beautiful hilly terrain) it can even be enjoyable. Coming down to this beach was a challenge for our brakes and our braking fingers (not to mention our tires - the rims got VERY hot) we'll see what physical challenge tomorrow morning brings...

The smells of Greece

There are so many smells to appreciate (and one or two to avoid, but I try to wash my shirt everyday...)

My first memory or olfactory memories was when we visited the Mr. And Mrs. Danias, family friends and the parents of my very good childhood friends, John and Christo. Mrs. Danias offered me some "tea of the mountain". She gave me a way out; "you don't have to drink it if you don't like it". Well, it smelled like the Greek hillsides that I fondly remember from my childhood, what a wonderful blend of very Greek mountain herb smells.

Later, on our first day of cycling, I cycled past a tree and didn't even notice what it was until I had already passed it and my brain finished processing the smell, looked it up in its data bank of fond odour-memories and screamed "FIGS!!!" at me. They're not ripe yet but we pass enough fig trees on the road for us to always keep tabs. When they're ready, we'll be ready too. Oh, we'll be ready.

Earlier this week we stayed a couple of nights in Karthamilli (one of our favourite spots so far... More about that in a later blog posting). There, in this little town were quite a few organic type offerings. I walked into a lovely store run by a very nice Romanian woman, and the various smells of all the dried mountain herbs was incredible. I can identify sage and oregano, but there were many more, enough to make one dizzy from sniffing so much

No Spartan shall die today!

...but I might...

After cycling down the beautiful and rugged coast from Xiropighadho we turned inland, cycling through the surprising little gem of Leonidhio and into the Parnonas mountains. This is the land of the Spartans. On one side of modern day Sparta are the Parnonas and on the other side the even more intense Taygetos mountains. An unforgiving land makes a tough people.

We cycled some crazy steep roads full of switchbacks to the reward of Elona Monastery and then continued on to our home for the night, a Saint Dhimitrios church and sanctuary for mountain hikers. Tomorrow, Sparta.

Over the Lagada pass

From Sparti we headed into the Taygetos mountains and what an imposing site they are as you approach them!

The first of the highlights are the ruins of the Byzantine city of Mystras. Built on a big easily defendable hill, the city spills steeply from the hilltop castle down. This place was the last outpost of the Byzantine empire, Byzantine from 1249 to 1460, however it was inhabited into the 1800s.

Next came the Lagadha gorge with impossible switchbacks, overhanging rock walls, a tunnel and a lonely wild mountain goat that played "call and answer" with us for a while.

Over the top, a long downhill was interrupted by a little more climbing, and more switchbacks before the mountains revealed the port city of Kalamata to us.

We are now south of Kalamata on the beautiful and rugged Messinian Mani Coast, taking a couple of days to rest and enjoy the exquisite blue sea.

Single beds

While we moslty spend our nights camping beside churches, once in a while a proper room is in order so we can ensure a good night's sleep, wash ourselves and our clothes properly, and catch up on "The Tudors".

A theme has emerged in most of the rooms that we have stayed in, and that is that they don't seem to like double beds here. More often than not there are two single beds instead of a double.

Just an observation.

Where are you from?

A tough question for me to answer. Sometimes I say I'm Greek-Canadian, sometime I try to keep it simple and say:

I'm Canadian

What part of Canada?

Um, Toronto.

But you speak Greek.

My parents are from Samos.

But you were born in Canada?

No, Kuwait.

Where?

KooVEYT.

Oh. But you live in Toronto?

Well...

The problem with Greece?

Here's a joke that I heard, told by a Greek. I think it may exemplify a Greek trait that holds the country and its people back.

There are three guys; an Italian, a German, and, of course, a Greek. God comes to them and tells them that he will grant them each one wish, any desire that they may have.

First he asks the Italian: "what do you wish for?" And the Italian replies: "Well, my neighbour has a beautiful Lamborghini in his driveway. I would like to have one like it."

Poof! He has his new car.

Next the German. "What one wish can I grant for you?" The German replies: "Well, my neighbour has a beautiful wife. I would like to marry someone so beautiful."

Poof! The German gets his dream wife.

Finally the Greek. "What is your desire?" The Greek thinks for a moment and replies: "My neighbour has a wonderful goat that gives much milk. I would like to see it dead."