Peloponnese surprises
Patras to Athens, 24th - 27th May
part one: a detour
In Greece, my plan was to head east towards Athens on the direct route from Patras, but my first move was in the opposite direction. Straight from the ferry I cycled forty kilometres west to an isolated spot on the coast that I'd been told about by Paul, my old French cycling companion from back in Italy. When he'd arrived in Greece he'd gotten talking to a stranger interested in his journey. The conversation turned into kayaking, which turned into an invitation to stay in a community space on the coast. Run by a group of friends, it's used for events, particularly events for children, and they invited Paul and subsequently myself to stay as long as we wanted (they also invited another passing French cyclist, who then rode with Paul for two weeks through Peloponnese). I was astounded by the generosity of this group who invited me to stay in their space completely on trust from Paul's word as my friend.
I stayed in that secluded spot for four days, befriending the stray dogs outside, napping on the beach, reading books, and looking at maps making plans. There were no events while I was there, and the friends running the space were busy with their own jobs and lives so weren't around much. The closest town was a half hour away by bike so most of the time I was in total solitude except for the many images of Frida Kahlo on the walls. Sure, there was no running water, but there was plenty of bottled water and the sea was just metres away. In that space I felt entirely removed from the rest of the world and from my regular days on the bike. It was almost like a holiday from my bike trip, with no concern about finding power or shelter.
After four days, I left with many thanks to my generous hosts and returned to the road refreshed and ready to live in the outside world again. I was excited to experience a new country and all that came with it - understanding the new places to get water, what to eat, where to sleep. Italy had begun to get quite comfortable and I think I left at the right time. Soon it would be very warm in Southern Europe, and at the end of June I would have to leave the Schengen zone, so despite largely lacking a schedule I do have some constraints on my time here. I resumed my Greek cycling after just a little bit of cheating by taking a bus back to Patras. I'd already cycled that road the opposite way and had not particularly enjoyed the heavy goods traffic along the diversions, so I was quite happy to skip it going back. From Patras, I set οut east, returning to the route I'd originally envisioned myself taking to Athens.
part two: peloponnese
As it turned out, there was a coastal road running along the north coast of Peloponnese between Patras and Athens: the old National Road. It's old because it's been superseded by the highway running parallel, so this road is practically empty - a great piece of luck. I'd been a bit sceptical about riding this coastal region since on maps it looked somewhat developed the whole way, similar to the continuous ugliness I'd experienced on the Italian coast south of Naples. I was happy to be wrong: I frequently saw undeveloped areas where I'd be happy to stop for a break or wild camp. The road was also surprisingly pretty, with countless pink and white oleander bushes, the beautiful blue sea, and mountain views. Greece is practically all mountains except for the coasts, and I'd been expecting to have consistent mountains on my right and sea on my left. What I hadn't been expecting was to also have mountains on my left, with the Greek mainland so close across the Gulf of Corinth that there were clear views of the other side.
I rode quickly along Peloponnese, driven by the prophesied approach of a big storm on the 25th afternoon. I wanted to be indoors by the time the storm arrived, which meant being in Corinth, the next city with cheap accommodation. It would be a lot of riding by my standards, 141km in a day and a half, but I encountered some company - on the 25th, I had the good fortune to see some other bike travellers as they rode past the bench where I was sitting and said hello. They didn't stop, so I hurriedly mounted my bike and rode to catch up and chat with them. I always like to exchange a few words with fellow travellers - one regret of my time in Italy was when two people on heavily loaded bikes rode past me while I was sitting by the roadside and I wasn't able do more than swap the basics (they were Belgian and had been on the road for an impressive eight months).
Learning from my regrets, I caught up to these bike travellers and heard their story: they were Belgian and had been on the road for nine months. No way. This was the same couple from Belgium who passed me a month earlier in Italy and who were now also heading to Corinth. We rode the rest of the way together and miraculously didn't get drenched by the storm, as it apparently got lost and arrived several hours late. I have no idea what the odds were for us to meet on the road twice but they seem astronomical, and I'm glad for the cosmic second chance to talk to these interesting people.
part three: to athens
The Belgian couple, Inez and Jo, were spending a day in Corinth to see the ancient ruins, and we arranged to meet the next day to ride to Athens. I wasn't so keen on ancient Corinth - I'd enjoyed Paestum and Herculaneum, but I thought Corinth looked similar enough that I wouldn't get much new out of it. I was much more excited about the Corinth Canal, which cuts through the Isthmus of Corinth and allows ships to skip circumnavigating Peloponnese. I took my time enjoying the views, in no particular rush to cover distance.
I wasn't too worried about finding a good spot to wild camp, and in the evening I found somewhere without even needing to look. Right next to the big supermarket was an abandoned building site surrounded by tall grass - a perfect candidate for some indoor camping. Since seeing all the abandoned sites in southern Italy and now Greece, I'd been meaning to camp in one and this was a perfect opportunity. However, my night under a concrete roof was rudely interrupted by an earthquake at three in the morning. Although it was a big 4.8 magnitude quake, the epicentre was on the other side of the gulf so I just experienced some mild shaking (a fun new experience) and zero structural damage. Shaken but not stirred, I went right back to sleep.
I joined up with the Belgians again in the morning and we began our final ride into Athens. With their company the kilometres went quickly and I liked to see the small quirks of their travelling style - their approaches to hills, drinks breaks, or finding water. They were amazed by my swipe-typing on my phone and ability to identify plants using an app - they aren't such keen smartphone users, and I was jealous of their relative technological liberation. On our route, we took ferries to cross Salamina - technically our first Greek island, if you don't count Peloponnese. The island was arid and felt nearly empty, but as soon as we disembarked the ferry to Attica on the mainland we left the beauty and calm behind. It was a world of wide roads, full of noisy, polluting vehicles, with coastal views replaced by thousands of shipping containers. Surprisingly, the Greek drivers even here were quite generous with giving us space and I felt safer than on many roads in the UK. More pleasant surroundings came as we entered the Athenian suburbs, with plenty of orange trees and the occasional lemon tree. We even got to take the one and only bike lane in Athens (4/10, okay car separation but far too much sharing with pedestrians)
Reaching central Athens, we parted ways and I went to my hostel. I didn't know how long I'd be staying in Athens - I'd see depending on how I liked the place and what I'd plan to do next. After Athens, I wanted to head north to Thessaloniki, and had arranged to meet a friend in Sofia, Bulgaria (by bus from Thessaloniki) in the second week of June, but I'd also been told I should visit some Greek islands. I probably wouldn't have time to do that and cycle the approximately five hundred kilometres to Thessaloniki, so I'd need to figure out my priorities. To begin with, though, my hostel dorm mates invited me to join a pub crawl. After a whole day's cycling? Sure, why not.
