My cycling companion for one day, John Littleford, and I
Date: 5/26/09 Distance: 49 miles Sights: Eghio, Diakpto and the Rio Bridge
I decamped rather early, riding out to Akrata toward Patra. I stopped by the Caves of Heracles. Unfortunately there was no easy route up to them. Then I rode onto Eghio.
In Eghio, another rider came up next to me. He was John Littleford from Wilkes-Barre and Portland, OR. We stopped at a little place for beer and tapas. Then he and I continued on the road for most of the afternoon. Although John nicked my trailer at one point and went down kind of hard. (An old Greek Ya-Ya came out of her house to make sure he was okay.) The three of us had a good laugh.
About 8 km from Rio, John and I parted ways. He needed a break before tackling the daunting bridge to the mainland
I continued on into Patra. I found my hotel, unpacked Schwarzfahrer and showered. Then I wandered the city for most of the afternoon. I found my way to the huge Church of St. Andrew (supposedly one of the largest in the Balkans). There, as my custom, I lit a candle for Mel.
I spent the next day wandering through the streets again, but off the main area near the cruise terminals. I found my way to the Roman Odeon and through the fortress of Patra. While its large, its nothing comparable in size to that of Akrokorinthos or at Nauplio. I made the whole circuit around the fort in about half an hour.
Well, it became time to say goodbye to Vrachati. After a great dinner at my new favorite restaurant - Edem in Vrachati (great food, right on the beach). In the morning I said my farewells to the new group of TEFLees and rode off into the sunset. (It was really 11am, but I was heading west.)
I stayed on the main old National road for the most part as I had gotten a late start. I took the Xilokastro nature trail again. It offered some respite from the heavy Greek sun.
Around 1 I was leaving Xilocastro, I began to hunger and thirst. Then I saw a seaside taberna. I rode down the little road to the parking lot, locked up Schwarzfahrer and went inside.
They were not quite ready for an English speaking tourist. They did not have their english menus but offered for me to go into the kitchen and pick something. I declined and got Kalimari.
The next 20 miles were fairly uneventful. I made my way into Akrata Beach, found the campsite and set up my new tent (it was then that I realized I should have practiced this before hand).
But, I got Camp Jesse assembled. I grabbed some cheese, crackers and apricots for dinner, then spent the evening talking with these two couples from the Netherlands.
Date: 5/16/09
Distance: 50 miles
Sights: Loutraki, Nea Perachora, Lighthouse and ancient temple
Perachora
When standing on the sight of the Ancient temple at Perachora (after you've waded through the waves of French tourists blocking everything), you see how it got its name "The Other Side." Modern, Ancient and Akro Korinthos are a mere 5 miles across the Gulf of Corinth from you. Here was a two storied temple that the Korinthians boated to (lacking the technological know-how to make it the 20 miles longer trip cycling).
About noon Saturday, I set out to find the other side. With Jim Morrison running through my head, I fought down the Coast Road to Korinthos. From there I got to the Posedieon Bridge. It is one of the 2 drawbridges on teh Canal. both of which actually sink into the canal when they are "drawn." I had to wait there 25 minutes.
But this gave me ample time to get pictures of the Dioklos. The Dioklos was the ancient road over which the Corinthians dragged boats over the Isthmus (for a neat fee, of course). Then I sailed into Loutraki. I stopped by the beach for a coffee and sandwich. (Grilled ham and cheese referred to in Greece as "Toast"). Then I left Loutraki for a tough 10 km up hill ride into New Perachora. Then back down to the ancient site.
It must be beautiful and peaceful where there arnen't two busloads of French tourists who are offended when you try to walk down the only steps to the site - I mean they are just sitting there!
I slowly made my way back to Vrachati. The hill up from the lighthouse isn't as hard. But I still desperately needed fruit. The fruit guy spoke no English. Fortunately for me a Jamaican cab driver arrived and playing interpreter. I made it back in time for dinner on the pebbles at Edem in Vrachati.
Date: 5/15/09
Trip: Vrachati - Xilocastro
Distance: 25 miles
Sights: Gulf of Corinth, Goats
I sat in rush hour traffic in Kaito. The road is too small for the number of people trying to fit into it. Driving me crazy as I sat at the edge. That's when I felt something nudge up against me. I looked over and there was goat, mouth open trying to bite me.
With a "Annngh!" and throw from me, the other two goats who were in the back of this pickup started neighing? Chalk that up to number 14 of things you don't see in the States.
I had heard about this nature trail in Xilocastro. It was only 12 miles from Vrachati. So on a lazy Friday that we left early, I went off. In an easy ride, I hugged the Gulf til I got to Xilocastro. Well, the trail wasn't great but it was something.
I took the trail up and back. Then back to Vrachati.
Date: May 10, 2009
Activity: Bungee Jumping & Swimming
Simone and Kelly had already done their jump. I was next.
I stepped out to the edge, the nice Swiss German man kept me calm for a bit. Then, I felt that giant rubber band pulling me down toward the canal. "Fuck!" I almost bailed, but I did not! whoohoo. I stepped forward again and looked to the bridge, as Kelly was exhorting. I lifted my arms and down went the count "5-4-3-2-1."
I sprung the coil of legs and off I jumped! With a yell of "Tino Pai!" for what seemed like two minutes (its really about 4 seconds) I sailed toward the Corinth Canal (aka "The ditch"). I then bounced around avoiding the errant seagull here and there. It was so peaceful and calm.
I was then carried back up to the bridge. Tino Pai!
When we got back everyone else went to sleep. I went down to the Gulf of Corinth and swam about 20 minutes through waves of cool then cold then cool blue water. It was great!
Jesse is too busy studying, so he asked me to write his blog about the Argoloid, well…
Hmmm. . . I was loving my annual awakening from hibernation. Boston is great for that. The temperature is cool and I can share coffee with my buddy, Jesse. Unfortunately I was uprooted from the pleasant weather of New England and taken across the pond to the Peloponese. Its hot and dry with very few berries and no salmon – un-bear-able!
Well, last weekend Jesse and some of his new friends went on a trip over the Peloponese. We went to ancient Nemea and saw the ancient columns, and the old stadium! Jesse and his friend Simone both sprinted across the track of the ancient stadium – it was fun to watch.
Next we went to the real ancient Mycenae – the home of Agamemnon! There we saw the ancient palace and crumbling buildings of the Bronze Age. Jesse took my picture in front of the Lion’s Gate. Why didn’t Agamemnon use the Bears’ Gate?
We also saw the Treasury of Atreus across the street. Jesse said it wasn’t a treasury at all. Instead, it wasn’t a tomb. I found no honey or berries – sure enough no treasure! (Apparently, Heinrich Schliemann lied to everybody.)
Our next stop was Nafplio. Jesse and his friends commented how beautiful the city was. Jesse’s friend Kelly commented how she was ready to move there – just tell her boyfriend to grab the dog and his stuff and meet her there.
Jesse and three of his friends made the hike up to the Larissa – or fortress – over looking the city. We walked of the “999 steps!” We were way up there! I swore I could see parts of Greece that had trees and were bear friendly. Jesse and I ate rabbit at a taberna in one of the squares of Napflio, mmm. . . rabbit! It didn’t taste as good as catching your own rabbit, but. . .
Ride: Vrachati – Akrokorinthos – Vrachati Distance: about 25 miles (with my cycling around looking for food) Difficulty: Hard Sights: Ancient Corinth, Akrokorinthos, Gulf of Corinth
The guide book clearly said “Acrocorinth is a short trip from Ancient Corinth.” About 15 minutes up to Akrokorinthos, I realized “Maybe the guidebook handed planned to have someone cycle up.” But I figured I was almost to the top but then I saw the car that had passed me on what I thought was another hill. “Shit!” I thought. I wasn’t going to make it without stopping. I found a safe place to stop on the shoulder and drank a whole bottle of water. I took a breath and pushed my way up to the top of the hill.
Akrokorinthos from the village of Ancient Corinth
My first day in Corinthia, I needed to see Ancient Corinth. I got onto Schwarzfahrer and made my way out. I rode out east from Vrachati down the National Road for a good 5 or six miles. There is a turn off to the town of Archea Korinthos. The small road that leads to the town heads straight toward Akrokorinthos. If you follow the signs to Akrokorinthos you come across the archaeological site of Korinthos with the remaining pillars of the Temple of Apollo.
For six euros you get entrance into the old city. The main piece to the site is the Temple of Apollo. There are 5 or 6 columns remaining from the temple. What is weird is that the columns are not Corinthian. They have the Doric capitals, not the flowery, leafy ones which are named for the city. There are Corinthian capitals remaining from “Temple E” in the back part of the site. The site is beautiful with ancient trees growing amongst the crumbling ruins. As earthquake after earthquake knocked down the city, the sites that have remained the best include the colonnades of shops and the one temple. Everywhere I went I kept running into masses. There were three going on all around the site. One was in Latin, one in German, and one in maybe Italian or Portuguese.
After a couple of hours wandering the old city, I left for my “short trip” to Akrokorinthos. I followed the first sign which then merely took me to an unmarked fork in the road. I had to decide which left or right. I had a fifty-fifty shot so I went right. That only lasted about 30 feet over the crest of a small hill when I was stopped by sheep crossing the road.
There were two Roma people fixing their car. I asked “Akrokorinthos?” They both shrugged. The shepherd then pointed his stick (not staff) back behind me. “Shit, I should have gone left!”
I turned around got back to the fork. I went left! That’s when my “short trip” to Akrokorinthos really began – up 600 meters in 3 kilometers. That makes an average grade of 20% - more steep than any hill on the Tour this year (but considerably shorter).
I finally fought my way up 3km of hell. At an average of 5 mph, it took me nearly half an hour to reach the top. Strangely enough, it was well worth it. There is an old Frankish/Venetian fortress at the top. It was remarkably well preserved and took up a huge acreage. I spent about 2 hours climbing around the walls and ramparts. Some parts of the fortress were right up against the cliffs of the hill. There is no way they would let you traipse around it so freely in the States.
Trip- Athens to Corinth Distance - 68 miles Sights: Temple of Aphrodite, Aegean Sea, Kinnetta Beach & Corinth Canal Difficulty: Moderate
First light was 6:45, so I awoke early on Saturday at the hostel. By 6:30, I had Schwarzfahrer fully loaded. With 65 miles to go, I wanted to get out of the city before most of Athens had awoken from the night before. My google directions this time did at least get me out of the city.
I rode through the awakening streets of Athens and out into the burbs. At one point I lost the google maps (of course). But I knew that I had to find the Athens-Patra old National Road. With a mixture of basic astronomical knowledge and two years as a classics major, the trip should be a breeze.
My simple goals were “find Megara; find Isthmia; find Korinthos!” Sure enough my plan went without a hitch.
For most of the National Road it was a winding empty stretch that was like the Pacific Coast Highway. (I can only imagine most Greek Car commercials were filmed here.) If I kept the Aegean on my left, I’ll eventually find my way to Isthumia.
I rode through great little beach towns and fishing hamlets. The fishermen – or maybe some sort of professional sellers – had set up stalls right on the road. Squid, octopus and fish were on display. About midday, and 40 miles in, I began to tire. That is when I went over a hill overlooking Kinnetta. Kinnetta Beach looked like white sand against the perfect blue Aegean.
I stopped and walked knee deep into the Aegean. It was a great respite from the heat of riding. The cool blue waves washed my legs and I dunked my head into the sea. After, I was refreshed and able to push on almost to Isthmia.
When I got to the canal, the bridge was down - down as in drawn, however. The end bridges on the Corinth Canal are not classic drawbridges. Instead of going up to allow ships in, they sink deep into the canal. I had fourteen minutes to wait. I met an Australian guy; he gave me a good amount of advice for both my time in Greece and specifically how to ride to Vrachati from Korinthos.
I crossed the bridge and eventually made to it Korinthos. After briefly losing the road I wanted, I fought my way through Korinthos. I reached the bridge the Aussey wanted me to avoid and took the right to the beach. Just keep the Gulf of Corinth on my right!
I went a bit down the coast. Tabernas, cafes and bars lined the beaches and cool sea breezes kept me going. I was riding down the beach for a good bit. I started thinking, I must be close to Vrachati by now I’m thinking. I stopped a guy:
“Vrachati?”
“You are in Vrachati. What are you looking for?”
“Vasilius Street”
“I don’t know. Who are you looking for?”
“Peter Beech.”
“Ahh… I know this man, he teaches English.”
“yes”
This man was nice enough to give me directions to the house and I found my apartment for the next month. Then showered and slept. Awesome!
Roberto, from Venice, and I drank are shitty drinks. He had the “red” wine and I had a Mythos beer. About this point I began to almost trust Roberto. But, then he said to me:
“Bryan Adams, this is why I love American music; isn’t this great?”
There were all sorts of things I had against that statement, “Well, Roberto, first it’s not Bryan Adams, and I don’t think he’s any good anyway. But Bryan Adams is Canadien.”
This digressed into an uncomfortable semi-argument. That’s when one of the women who worked at the bar sat down next to me. This seemed a bit odd. She asked if I was on vacation. She said I seemed stressed for being on vacation. I wondered what was going on with this idle chit-chat, when she lowered the boom. “Can I have a drink with you?”
Here it was the tourist trap. Fortunately a friend of a friend had this happen to him in Budapest. (Fortunately for me, that is.) Jeff was taken into this bar in Budapest. The women asked if they could have a drink with him. Jeff, being logical, said “of course.” A few drinks later, he gets an astronomical bill. At about 20 dollars a pop for the women’s drinks, he’d racked up a 100,000 forint bill (around $500.00).
With Jeff’s Hungarian misadventure in mind, I had to get the fuck out of there. “I got to go.”
“Why? You just got here!”
“I have to meet my cousin at the airport.”
“He can take the subway.”
“No, he’s from Idaho and is afraid of riding subways by himself!”
“Where’s Idaho?”
As I was paying way too much for my shitty Mythos beer (10 euros), Roberto went back to his trip to Sacramento and how he ate Idaho potatoes. I ran out of the New York Café as quick as possible and out into the Plaka.
* * * *
After my adventure in the back roads of Attika, I was in the city. I hopped out of the shower and sought to wander the city. Wandering the city downtown almost immediately draws to one place throughout Athens, however. Up on a high hill you see an ancient building – hmm, that must the Akropolis.
I found out how long the site was open. I had plenty of time, so I bought a ticket. Perhaps the best deal in Europe, for 12 euros you get 7 tickets, the Akropolis and 6 other sites. I dashed up the hill to the site.
From the city centre you wander up winding narrow roads. It is odd that you come from the financial district which is the newer part of the city. In Charlestown, MA, you walk up the hill to the Bunker Hill Monument and the streets get nicer and nicer with more and more expensive houses. This is also true at Federal Hill in Baltimore, as well. Based on this one might expect the town to get nicer and nicer approaching a 2500 year old temple. But you would be wrong. It is the inverse. The houses get shittier and shittier.
There is more and more graffiti on the walls. What the Greeks lack in proficiency of graffiti they make up for in being prolific. Everything that is not policed all the time – like the Akropolis – is tagged. And none of it is either creative or interesting (for the most part).
You find one gate to the Akropolis on this random tiny road without a sign. As I wondered if I had wandered into somebody’s garden on this dirt path, I came across a more likely path, wide and paved. It kept going up, figuring eventually I’d make it to the Parthenon if I just kept going up.
This is when I met Roberto. He told me he was a tourist and we should go to a bar where they have music and wine from the local villages. (I knew he was up to something.) He was nice enough to show me the way to the entrance.
The Akropolis is an amazing site. The temple of Athena Nike is what you walk through first – up ancient marble steps that just fill the American whose oldest thing is the Paul Revere’s House with wonder. Each stone is a piece of history dating back 26 centuries.
You are lost in the marble of the temple staring at the beauty of the individual columns as you walk through. Then out the other side there it is – the Parthenon! The size and majesty of the structure is not something you can properly describe. Even after being destroyed by the Turks (“Parthenon go BOOM!”), it still holds its scale and beauty.
Walking up I saw a Vietnamese family standing before it. Without the language you would think I wouldn’t know what they were saying. However, the father’s gestures and body language showed what he was lecturing. He was using his hands as he described how the pillars are not straight but have a natural bulge in the middle to show the heft of the building. He was then pointing to the top of the structure and dipping his hand to show that the building didn’t have the allusion of a sag that a straight line would have shown.
After my misadventure with Roberto, I grabbed a gyro went back to my hostel and slept for the next 14 hours.
The next day I went out and used my other 6 tickets visiting more ancient sites. I also climbed Lykavitos, leaving 2 euro at the church atop for a prayer to Mel.
I could see the town coming. Thank god, since the airport I’ve been riding the lonely back roads of Attica and all I can think is “nero, nero” (“water, water”). I rode into the unknown town. Standing outside the gyro stand, I aksed for water and coffee – only to find that I had no euros. The owner was kind enough to give them to me for four dollars – US. As I sat drinking water and a coffee, I attempted to figure out where I was on the small map in the guide book. Hmm… I guess Athens is that way, based on the possible mountains around me.
Do you want to get some weird looks? Put together a bicycle in the loading zone outside the airport. People coming out of the customs area spoke various languages quietly while people pointing at bits and pieces of Schwarzfahrer strewn about the sidewalk. One woman pulled her boyfriend/husband over to make him look at the trailer I was attaching to Schwarzfahrer.
Once Schwarzfahrer was put together, I set off on my ride into the city. Needless to say I got off track of the directions immediately – stupid Google maps! I could not find any of the roads it was telling me to take out of the Airport. Alas, I just started following signs to Athina. This led me onto the interstate! So I just kept riding until I made the first exit and got off!
Now I’m on the back country roads (Take me to Athina) of Attica with no real clue. I also had not packed any water – that dumb liquid rule with planes and all. So I just started heading away from the sun (At least its West!). I found my life saving gyro stand, then a bank and I went back to buy a gyro in euros.
So with some broken English from him and so shitty Greek from me I got the general idea of where I had to go. So, the map in my guide book at least had town names. So I jumped from one town to the next that was on the map. (Well, this town is towards Athens).
As I got closer to the city, I started to feel at home. The roads had no shoulders and cars merely whipped around me with the minimal of clearance around me. People pointed to the strange guy with the trailer on his bike. And the street signs were nowhere to be found. I could easily be in New England.
That’s when I miraculously got back to the google map directions. There was a rotary (round-about) that had the street I was looking for. Now, I’m really at home – cycling through the rotary. Unfortunately Greek rotaries are totally different! They have signs before the rotary to tell you which turn will be yours; inside the rotary they warn you of your turn coming up. And, there are clearly defined lanes within the rotaries. It is obvious what to do when you’re in them! Amateurs!
Getting back on track and into the real Athens city area made the trip much easier. Every major street has a bus and motorbike lane only. I merely rode down that until I got into the city center. At that point it was like I was cruising through New York or Boston. All these British who I’ve read complaining about cycling in Greece, should ride in the US for a while. I found the Zeus hostel, showered and left for the Akropolis.
