The Argostoli of Defeat (6-19-09)

Distance: 27 miles by bike (15 or so hitching)
Trip: Mavrata – Argostoli – Mavrata
Difficulty: Easy (Hard with no tire)


There are two negatives of living in a tiny village on a mountain on an island off the coast of Greece.

The first is lack of Broadband access on the computer.

The second is cycling issues. I popped two tires in one week going down the gravel road that leads from the Katelios – Mavrata Road to Base-Station Turtle. Then, of course, there is nowhere get new tubes.

This meant I had to go into Argostoli to get new tubes from the bike shop there. It’s about 17 miles from Mavrata to Argostoli. Fortunately, it’s mostly on the main Poros-Argostoli Road, so there wouldn’t be too much of a concern with popping my last two working tubes between.

Some things are better not thought! At about 8.5 miles, through the town of Peratata, I made a big turn, only to slide the back tire out as I made the turn. Fuck! That’s a popped tire.

Sure enough. So I locked the bike to a sign that may have warned against using the property. With a quick twist of the back tire, I pulled it off and made my way down the road. Thumbing it I was able to catch a ride. A retired civil servant and summer time pool cleaner from Birmingham (UK) picked me up. He was able to transport me to the rotary right outside Argostoli.

I combed the town for the bike shop (noone knew where it was). Then I found a junk store that sold bikes and supplies. He did not sell my tube, but he knew where the bikeshop was. Upon locating it, the owner of the shop was surprised to find I was from America. As a child, after the Earthquake, he lived in Cleveland – and still had his ancient Green Card (that was really green).

The bike owner fixed the flat and I made my way out of town. Here, I got a ride from a woman who had been on her way to see her grandmother. She was from Kefalonia but moved to London and then Athens, before marrying a Greek-American and returning to the island.

We had to go the long way so I wouldn’t be seen in the car with her as she drove through her village.

She had some strong words for Kefalonia and Kefalonians

“They would never have picked you up.”

“Don’t let anyone tell you Kefalonians are nice.”
“They do nothing but talk; and always lies.”

After that uncomfortable trip back to my bike. I replaced the wheel, hitched the trailer back on and continued on my way to Argostoli (for the second time). I then found the super market and bought supplies for our last 2 weeks on the island.

The road back was much harder as I had not noticed previously that I also blew a tire on my trailer. Dragging the weight of the groceries on a flat trailer was difficult to say the least. On the plus side, I did break 1000 km for my trip on the return.