Greece and Italy: The Stats

From Collages

After 76 days in Greece

Miles Biked: 892.4
Gyros pitas I ate: 60-75 (maybe more)
Saganakis (Fried Cheese with Lemon) I ate: 10
Times I ate rabbit: 2
Major Archeological Sites Visited: 6 (Athens, Corinth, Mycenae, Argos, Nemea, Olympia)
Minor Archeological Sites Visited: around 30
Ancient Tracks Sprinted: 3 (Isthmia, Olympia, Nemea)
Venetian/Ottoman Fortresses visited: 6
Bungee Jumps: 1
5000+ footers summited: 1
Earthquakes Felt: 2
Earthquakes Slept thru: 2 – maybe 3
Major Bodies of water swam in: 3 (Aegean Sea, Ionian Sea, Gulf of Corinth)
People with whom I shared major experiences of my life: 24 (At TEFL Corinth - Jim, Marilyn, Lea, Simone, British Kelly (BiK), American Kelly (AcK) and Cat; On the Road from Eghio to Rio - John; At the Katelios Group - Damien, Ian, Ellie, Cecilia, Mia, Ariel, Deb, Lily, Florian, Markus, Manu, Fiona and Fleabag; and on the long boat rides to Italy and Croatia - Santiago and Thomas – Thank you all)
Times I climbed “The Hill”: around 45
Best time on “The Hill”: 12:09
Certificates Earned: 1
Pairs of shoes destroyed: 2 (one worn out, one lost in the seaweed “I lost my shoe”)
100+ km cycling days: 3
Times I had to stop because a herd of sheep was crossing the road: 5
Times I had to help herd said herd of sheep across the road: 1
Goats who tried to bite me: 1
Dolphins seen: 4
Turtles seen: 7
Turtles tagged: 2
Turtles flipped onto their backs: 1
Times I stepped on a sea urchin: 2
Times I put my hand on a sea urchin: 1
Cars who picked me up hitchhiking: 11
Priests who picked me up hitchhiking: 1
Night patrols: 12
Accommodations: 11 [1 hostel, 1 Apartment, 1 cottage, 2 hotels, 6 campgrounds]
Ferries: 5
Times I said to myself: “There is now a ferry involved”: 5
Alarm clocks purchased: 3
Alarm clocks left behind because of absent mindedness: 1
Alarm clocks left behind because they sucked: 1
Yanni Sightings: 0

After 4 hours in Italy

Miles Biked: 7.6
Doerner Paninos Eaten: 1

Tino Pai!

Jesse

33 – Three Boats, 3 Countries, 48 hours (7/7 – 7/9/09)

Santiago, Thomas and I en route to Croatia!

Kefalonia, Greece to Split, Croatia via Patra, Greece and Ancona, Italy

7-8-09 13:30 Zulu time (14:30 local) Ancona, Italy

I was a bit confused as to what I was supposed to do. Cars and trucks were driving down a long road out of the port while walkers were heading through the port building. With my bike I didn’t quite fit either criterium. But, it was solved for me when the customs guy wouldn’t let me into the main port building. Alas, I started heading down the long road.

A little ways down the road, I found a half-open gate that led into the town. Now, it is here that I am thinking WWGD? (“What would Gabe do?”) On the one hand I haven’t been through customs or anything; on the other hand, it can’t be too bad since I’m going from one Schengan country to another. Weighing the options, I chose to go through the gate, which I’m pretty sure Gabe would have done in my situation.

The Politiza didn’t like it as much as I did. A stocky bald man who looked like the captain from Top Gun half jogged over yelling at me. “SOMETHING IN ITALIAN,” which I liked to think was something about flying plastic dog shit outta Hong Kong. But, based on his body language it was definitely a lot of words for “STOP!”

So I did, but he continued yelling. Maybe he assumed I knew Italian as I had followed his likely directions so well. But, I did not. Instead I said: “Then kataleveno (I do not understand – in Greek),” which was pretty daft – him being Italian and all. So, I’m pretty sure he didn’t katalevene me either.

He apparently knew enough to know that I didn’t know Italian. So he continued in English: “You can’t come through this gate. What do you think you’re doing?”

Hmmm . . . WWGD? Oh, I know: “Scusi Officer, I didn’t know I couldn’t do that.”

“Are you Greek?” he asked looking at my trailer with the pirate and Greek flag flying from it. (I lost that safety orange flag and figured those would be even better.)

“Ohi (No – in Greek, fuck I did it again), Americano”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see the town in between boats, and to find some food.”

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“Nowhere, well not in Italy, I have to catch the 8:30 to Croatia.”

“You’re not going to L’Aquille?”

Blank look.

“For the G-8?” Crap, that’s what’s going on. The G-8 is in Italy this week and they got the port well guarded for possible Anarchists. Now here comes this guy on a bike with a Black Pirate flag sneaking into the country though a gate that shouldn’t be open. I’m sure he thinks I’m an anarchist – stupid Gabe leading me astray.

“No, no, staying away from that.” The officer took my passport and went to his car with it. I stood over my bike at the threshold of the port/town.

After determining I was not on any anarchist black list, the cop returned and handing me my passport he said: “I have to send one pair from this squadron to Top Gun. Cougar was number one; you guys were number two. Cougar lost his edge and turned in his wings. Cougar’s out; you guys are in.”

At least that’s what I heard. It was probably: “Okay, you can come through.”

“Gratzi”

“Prego”

“Hey, what can I see in this town?”

“I don’t know, I’m not from Ancona . . . maybe you can look at that church up there.”

“Gratzi” and I began to ride off.

“Don’t go to L’Aquille”

“Taksi (OK – in Greek)” which he probably still didn’t katalevene.

Thus I was in Italy for the first time in my life.

7/7/09 06:00 Zulu time (8:00 local) Sami, Greece

From Three Boats, Three Countries, 48 Hours

Before I could go to Croatia, I had to get to Italy; but, before I could do that I had to catch the ferry to Patra. I packed up Camp Jesse and cruised down to the port of Sami. There, I found a boat waiting for me. The guy on the loading dock was waving up the ramp. But, then I figured I should check: “Patra?”

“Ohi, Ohi, (No, no) Bari.”

“Pos a Patra . . . umm . . . boat?” (Where is the Patra . . . umm . . . boat?”)

After some long directions in Greek and English that appeared to boil down to “that way,” I found the Patra . . . umm . . . boat and off without a hitch to the mainland.

On our way out of the harbor 4 dolphins swam by to tell me: “So long; and thanks for all the fish.”

7/7/09 11:30 Zulu time (13:30 local) Patra, Greece

From Three Boats, Three Countries, 48 Hours

In the port awaiting the loading time for the Ancona . . . umm . . . boat, I watched the third stage of the Tour de France with a family from Washington State. Surprisingly, The Manx Missile won for the third straight time (it was only later I found out it was the day before’s stage.)

I then rode around the rude city of Patra to buy a pirate and a Greek flag – to replace the safety orange one I lost months ago in the hills of Achaia. After that I ran into two guys at the gyro shop in the Center, who looked Argentine but I wasn’t sure.

Later, I ran into those guys again as I still awaited the stupid ferry. They sat outside the portside bar I was at, as I had a few beers with the captain of a freighter. The German captain told me all about going through pirate territory off Somalia. He and his crew told me how they saw a Russian destroyer sink a pirate ship and two small boats that had come too close to their freighter. We then discussed the various large sea animals he’d seen in his travels. I wished them luck on their trip to China, they did the same for mine to Croatia.

Aboard the ferry boat Ancona I ran into the Argentines, again. They were heading all the way to Split like me and I found two traveling companions for my journey.

7/8/09 19:30 Zulu time (20:30 local) Ancona, Italy

From Three Boats, Three Countries, 48 Hours

After visiting a bit of Ancona, it was back to the sea. The ferry from Ancona to Split was crappier than the one from Patra to Ancona, the trip was shorter, but it was still twice as much.

I avoided the “casino” this time as I blew 10 euros on the Patra-Ancona leg. Tommy, Santiago and I shared mate and DiSarona aboard, before they went to sleep early (They had been on four ferries, two buses and a train in the past four days heading from Athens – Mikynos – Athens – Patra – Ancona – Split. Whew.)

I slept on the Promenade deck peacefully without any hassle and when I awoke, there was Split awaiting me. I got through the port in Croatia in seconds and said goodbye to Santiago and Thomas – who were on their way to the Dalmatian Islands – outside the customs building.

A quick purchase of coffee and a new flag and here I was – Croatia!

From Three Boats, Three Countries, 48 Hours

Tino Pai!

Jesse…

Sami Hiking Trail (7/6/09)

From Sami

I had an excellent idea to get up early and go on the Ithaca Ferry to find out more about the archeology around Odysseus.

I slept through the boat.

So I rode out through the port of Sami to the edge of town to take the hiking trail. The trail led out through from the town and up into the hills outside. At the top there was a beautiful old monastery that was built in the 15th Century and had survived the Venetians, the Turks, the Italians and the Nazis only to be completely destroyed by the 1953 earthquake.

Further down is the ruins of the old chapel to Saint Nicholas and the old fountain used by the monastery. The chapel is cool.

From Sami

I then rode back to the campground and rested for my long cruise to Croatia.

Tino Pai!

Jesse…

Looping the Island: Argostoli - Sami (7-5-09)

Distance: 35 miles
Difficulty: Medium
Sites: Myrtos Beach, Melissani Cave, Drogarata Cave


Well, it was time to get out of the crappy campground at Argostoli Beach. Obviously, when you are on vacation you should not judge a campground too harshly. However, this one sucks. If you’re on Kefalonia – go to the one in Sami.

I rode up the long small graded road from Argostoli to Myrtos Beach – the prettiest beach in Greece. Looking from the road overhead, it seems perfect. (It isn’t sand however, its limestone pebbles, so on the beach isn’t that cool.

From Argostoli - Sami

Next, I rode down from Myrtos to Agia Irmina and then onto Sami.

In Sami, I stopped at the Caves. The first cave was Melissani. Melissani is an underground lake. It has fresh and seawater mixing in a cool calm concoction. On sunny days the opening above one of the chambers electrifies the water in a perfect blue.

From Argostoli - Sami

You walk down a long chamber to waiting boats. These boats sit 15 people and the boatman rows it standing up. He is also a multi-lingual tour guide. He told me and the English family what was happening and then turned to the Italians.

After cruising around there for 20 minutes or so, I got back on the bike and rode the arduous trip to Drogarata – which is out in the middle of nowhere. This cave is large and filled with stalactites and stalagmites that are over 20,000 years old. The largest chamber is 20 meters or so in diameter and is the top of place you daydreamed about finding as a boy.

From Argostoli - Sami

It was then back to the Sami campground – with its services and sites a far better option than Argostoli Beach.

Tino Pai!

Jesse…

Independence Day Ride (7-4-09)

Krani Walls

Ride: Argostoli Beach – Krani
Distance: 13 miles
Difficulty: Moderate
Sights: Cute towns, Cyclopedean Walls of Krani

From Krani and Enos

As I filled my water at the bubbler in the small town, I realized I might not actually be on the Argostoli – Sami road. Fortunately, the guy who was helping his son build a new house spoke great English. It turned out that after the Earthquake of ’53, he moved to Albany, NY and had lived in Albany and Brooklyn until 5 years ago. He gave me great directions back to Razata and the Walls.

I followed his terrific directions down the dirt roads of Kefalonian back-country to find the ancient Mycenaean structures over the ridge line. The walls were made of giant slabs of the local hard rock. The Classical era City-State of Krani had built these walls. They were amazing. They definitely would have kept me out.

Into the Clouds
Mount Ainos (Enos) 1628m (5324 ft)

Trip: cycle- Krani to the Enos Turnoff; hitchhike- to the National Park; hike- up the Mountain; hitch- back to my bike; cycle- back to Argostoli
Distance: Cycling – 15 miles , hiking – 5 miles
Difficulty: Moderate to Hard
Sites: Not much, cloudy

From Krani and Enos

After Ariel Damien and I had failed so miserably at climbing to the top of the Mountain, it became a mission for me.

So, I left the walls at Krani and cycled my way up the Argostoli-Sami Road. A woman at the Mini-Mart told me, “you have a long way to go.” Sure enough there were two excruciatingly long hills of more than two miles to get to the turn off to the Enos national Park.

I locked my bike to the sign for Argostoli and started hitching toward the National Park. I got a ride to the turn off for Poros and then another from a Athenian family who was vacationing on the island. I started on the main park road from the ranger station (1130 meters). After an hour, I found the summit trail. The summit trail was quite quick from the road (20 minutes). But it took you through the black pines that used to cover the island.

Then I cleared the tree line. There was little view and it was hard to make out the summit as the clouds had descended upon the summit. Through the rockiness of the top I scrambled to the top of the mountain.

I let out a huge roar of “JAMMING ON THE ONE!” that echoed through the mists and clouds. Only to hear “Ya sas (hello)” returned from the peak next me. Then, the mists cleared a minute: “oh, you are higher!” the other peak said. And I watched as two young Greek kids descended their peak and climbed mine.

After some fist pumps for making the peak, we each went our separate ways. I walked back down to the Ranger station. I then got a lift almost all the way back to my bike from a Czech family that was on vacation.

Additionally, I did almost no pedaling all the way back to Argostoli as I got to go down those two long hills.

Leaving Katelios and Touring the Lixouri Peninsula (7/3/09)

From Mavrata - Argostoli

Trip 1: Mavrata – Argostoli Beach (18 miles)
Trip 2: The Lixouri Peninsula (17 miles)

And now its time to say goodbye to all our family. The Cottage with an Englishman, an Irishman and an American was turned over to July’s volunteers. I packed my trailer, said goodbye to Florian and Ariel (the two volunteers for June and July).

Down the Argostoli Road, which I now knew so well, there were no problems – outside of the long hill to Lidl (I needed new brakes). I found the Argostoli Beach Campsite on the other side of town and set up camp.

After a quick bite, I set out for the Lixouri Peninsula. I grabbed the Argostoli – Lixouri ferry. I toured the town and made it down to Xi Beach.

I grabbed the ferry back and made it to the bikeshop in Argostoli. Pantelis was the Greek Cycling champion in the early 90s. He took good care of me, replacing my rear wheel and giving the breaks and gears a tune-up.

From Mavrata - Argostoli

After a ride to the lighthouse at the end of the Argostoli Peninsula, I rode back to the campground, talking with a Slovenian who is into kite surfing.

From Mavrata - Argostoli

12:09! (7/2/09)

Trip: Katelios Environmental Center – Mavarata
Distance: 2 miles
Difficulty: HARD



Below you heard of “The Hill.” 12 minutes, 48 seconds was the fastest anyone had done it all month.

About a week before we left, I went after the record, only to do it in 13:07. Then, two days before we left Katelios, Damien came storming into the cottage as a sweaty ball of Irishman: “Fuck you and your 12:48.” He had put in maximum effort to put up his best time – 13:12.

Well, my last night at the Katelios Group I decided to go for it. I stripped my bike to nothing but the front light, speedometer, bell and pannier. I slowly rode up from the Music Bar to the Environmental Center. There, I stopped and reset the computer.

I had problems going into the lowest gear, but that would have just slowed me down anyway. I gunned it with all my effort and blew all my leg muscles.

I got to the top and looked at the bike computer – 12:09! The final record for the month.

The Five Most Ridiculous Minutes of My Life (7/1/09)

There is a rule that there is no smoking during night shift on the beach. But, after this ordeal, I broke that rule. I simply said, “uhhh…I need a cigarette after that.” The others laughed.

Quiet had descended upon us. As I took my second or third drag I broke the silence: “Well that was the five most ridiculous minutes of my life.” The other three concurred.

______

The whole thing had started about 45 minutes before. Lily and I were on Kamina Beach for night shift. We received a text message from the Potamakia team: “Turtle – Come Now.”

Lily and I made our way down the beach, walking at a good clip. We found Ian and Florian looking at a nesting turtle. Both declared this turtle a “dumb turtle.” She had only laid 20-30 eggs before coving up her nest. They had not had time to tag and measure her, which is normally done in the egg laying phase.

If you miss the tagging part, you are to grab her while she walks to the sea. Then, you stop her and tag-and-measure. Ian and I developed a simple plan:

Jesse – move first grab and stop the turtle
Ian – move in second grab her rear left flipper
Florian – move third and tag her rear left flipper
Lily – come in last and measure the carapace of the turtle.

It was quite simple and could have been effective. Any military man will tell you however, plans work well until you make contact with the objective. After that, who knows?

Well, the first part of the plan worked flawlessly. I moved in first and grabbed the turtle. It was the stopping her that was the issue. I held her for a few seconds as Ian moved in. Then however, it all went to hell.

The Mediterranean Sea Turtle can be over 100 kg (larger than me). She was surprisingly strong. As she pulled me a bit forward, Ian let go of the flipper and dove on her. I then slid down to the flipper.

“Tag her, tag her!” I yelled.

Then in a remarkably measured and calm voice I heard Lily say: “he’s lost the tag.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST THE TAG?”

Sure enough, there was Florian looking around about the sand for the tag that had dropped from the “tagging gun” [see “Meeting K206,” below].

“Grab another tag!”

“Shit, I can’t hold her.”

“I got another tag.”

“She’s getting away.”

Now, as Florian was busily trying to get the new tag into the tag gun and head off the turtle, Ian and I were trying to hold her back. “Shit, she’s almost to the sea.”

Ian then stood up and calmly said six words I probably will never forget: “That’s it, we gotta flip her.”

I stood; Ian pushed while I pulled from under the carapace. In surprisingly well timed work, in concert Ian and I grabbed and flipped the turtle over in one easy motion. So easily that, we almost flipped her 360 degrees back onto her feet!

In the commotion the turtle had slapped Ian across the face. Later he was to say, “Well I did flip her over; I guess I deserved it.”

Now, we had this mammoth sea turtle on her back at the edge of the sea. She was flailing all four of her flipper and flinging sand everywhere. (She also gave Ian another slap.)

I grabbed her back left flipper (which was actually her right one as she was upside-down). Florian was able to fight through the mini turtle-created sand storm and clip tag K206 into her.

We then flipped her back onto her feet and hastily measured her carapace and released her from our research. She walked back into the sea to probably tell the other turtles: “Fuck that shit, I’m never going back to that beach.”

A Dawn Visitor (6/30/09)

The Mediterranean Sea Turtle nests at night – which is why Manu is known to say: Humans and Turtles can share the same beach.

So, it was strange that as night shift fizzled into the rosy-fingered dawn that Mia and I got a call from Ian and Ellie on the other beach. They had a turtle still nesting.

Mia and I ran down the beach and located the other two. She was already in “camouflage” mode, hiding her nest. But this was the clearest we had been able to see a turtle on land.

From A Dawn Visitor

After finishing her camouflage, she walked back to the sea – never to see her babies.

From A Dawn Visitor

The Turtles of Argostoli – (6/29/09)

From Turtles of Argostoli

The Loggerhead turtle migrates from feeding grounds to feeding grounds and then to its mating waters. The ones that nest in Zakynthos – and thus, probably, Kefalonia – have been tracked in the Adriatic and other parts of the Mediterranean. So, the port town of Argostoli is a bit odd.

From Turtles of Argostoli

There is a permanent population of males who live in the harbor. So, when Manu and Fiona were driving into Argostoli, I jumped at the chance. First, I needed to get some things for the remainder of my trip. And, I wanted to find these turtles.

Finding the gear I needed was a bit frustrating, as I went from shop to shop that may have had the items I wanted. Finding the turtles was not. I found three different turtles without looking too hard. I got pictures and a video.

From Turtles of Argostoli

On the Trail of Odysseus (6/28/09)

Ride: Mavarata – Poros – Skala – Mavrata
Distance: 27 miles
Difficulty: Medium (three large hills)
Sights: Tholos Tombs in Tzanata, Hercules Statue in Agia Irini, Memorial to the HMS Prometheus in Poros, Ancient Temple and Roman Villa in Skala

From On the Trail of Odysseus

Homer describes Ithaca as “mountainous” and “rugged.”

In the Odyssey, Telemachus tells Menelaus, “Horses I will not take to Ithaca. . . [I]n Ithaca there is no room for horses to run, nor any meadows at all. It is a pasture land for goats and more attractive to my eyes than the sort of land where horses thrive.” The modern island Ithaki, which is a stones throw from Kefalonia, indeed fits this description.

When Odysseus is returned to Ithaca by the Phaeacians, Homer describes the harbor onto which they landed on the island. “Now in that island there is a cove named after Forcys, the Old Man of the Sea, with two projecting headlands sheer to seaward but sloping down towards the side on the harbor.” Up from the cove there is a cave that the Nymphs enjoyed.

On Ithaki, you can find a Bay of Forcys that closely resembles Homer’s description. Additionally, there is a cave known as the Cave of Nymphs that overlooks the bay. As my friend Manu said, it would seem to make sense that modern Ithaki is Homer’s Ithaca.

Yet, there is a problem with this assumption - there is no archeological evidence of a centralized Mycenaean era state on Ithaki. Schliemann thought it to be on Ithaki at the hill of Alalkomenes. However, he found nothing in the way of Mycenaean era settlement.

Some have argued that the Lixouri peninsula is Homer’s Ithaca. And, that the peninsula was once an island and now joined with the rest of Kefalonia. (This argument comes mostly from Lixourians.) People from Lefkada argue that their island is Homer’s Ithaca.

Yet, there is archaeological evidence that gives some credence to the idea that “Ithaca” is actually Kefalonia. In Mazarakata, there is a cemetery from the Mycenaean era. It easily fits a place where rich commoners or some noblemen may have been buried. However, it does not match the “Treasury of Atreus” at Mycenae. So it does not appear that it would be a place where the wanax, or king, would be buried. In Krani there are Cyclopedean walls that are said to echo the huge stones of Mycenae and Tyrins. (I have yet to see these walls for myself.)

Recently, there has been another find. They have found a tholos tomb – like that of the Treasury of Atreus (not a treasury, at all – stupid Pausinas). The tholos is in Tzanata, about 4 km up the hill from the port town of Poros. On my off day from turtle tracking, I decided to ride to Poros and see it for myself.

At 1:30 I left Mavrata along the Argostoli Road. Then I made the right to ride along the Argostoli – Poros Road. The Carpenter Man (the one who helped us with the “Honey Man”) told Damien that this was the prettiest road on Kefalonia. And for 12 miles I wound my way along the ridge to through picturesque villages that were perched on the edge that they may tumble down toward Katelios and the sea. At Markopoulo I saw the bell tower where the snakes come (like the swallows of Capistrano) around the feast day of St. Gerasimos – the patron saint of Kefalonia. And, at Agia Irini, I stopped for a minute to look at the new statue of Heracles fighting the lion.

My next stop was Tzanata and the main point of my trip my trip. As, you walk up the small hill upon which the tholos is located, a visitor to Mycenae would quickly see the resemblance. There is a cylindrical building of large stones built into the hillside. About 20 feet above the grave line the walls begin to curve up into its lintel. The majority of the lintel and its possible supporting triangle are lost. However, it is without a doubt tholoi tombs of wanaxes.

After leaving the tomb, I got back onto the road to Poros as it led through the gorge into the town. To the right was the road to the currently closed off Cave of Drakena. A quick look at the harbor shows a calm area surrounded by two large hills that are nearly shear seaward but more gently sloping into the town.

Perhaps the Cave of Drakena is the Nymphs’ cave where Odysseus hid the gifts of the Phaeacians? Perhaps Poros is Forcys? A man from Pastra from whom I received a hitch earlier in the week told me that archeologists from the University of Vancouver are returning this summer to do more digging in the hills above Poros. Maybe they will find the Mycenaean palace of Odysseus there . . . hmmm.

After Poros, I rode into Skala and saw the remains of the Ancient temple – to whom nobody seems to know. It is little more than the foundation of the temple – next to a modern Orthodox Church. I tried to make the Roman Villa, but it had already closed. I saw a bit climbing on top of the fence; alas, another time.

From On the Trail of Odysseus

To the Western Beaches (6/27/09)

Trip – Koroni Beach-Stella’s Vineyard Beach
Distance – 10 km
Difficulty – Medium

From Western Beaches

Every morning two volunteers from Team Turtle ride to the old road to Koroni. They then kayak to Lefkas – checking each beach for turtle nests. Saturday, however, Manu (director of the volunteer program here at Katelios) and I were assigned to the Koroni run – of course, Manu makes the schedule.

Manu said he wanted to check out more of the beaches to the west for possible turtle nests. So our kayaking was 4 times the distance that it normally is, but we didn’t have to bike or hike the old Koroni Road.

We found no nests or tracks (the storm that had settled on the Ionians for the past week could easily have erased any sign of nesting turtles). But we did have a good day where I explored near reaches of Kefalonia through the unexpectedly choppy waves.

High Diving Poros (6/25/09)

From High Diving Poros

The whole trip started with a random question. Damien asked Manu: “is there any rock anywhere where people jump into the sea?”

“I’ve seen them do it in Poros.”

“Really?” I asked. “Is it near the port or the town?”

“It’s on the point between the town and the port.”

Damien and I decided to ride up to Poros with the exclusive mission to jump off these said rocks.

By morning, I was less interested in the trip. But, by noon, when Damien had recruited the remaining members of Team Turtle, I was ready to go.

Instead of riding up, we chose to hitchhike. Ellie, Damien and Florian left first on the Katelios – Skala – Poros Road. Then Ariel and I left; while Mia and Cecilia chose to wait a bit and finish lunch.

Ariel and I decided to take the Argostoli – Poros Road. (Let me rephrase, I decided we should take.) The belief was that it was the main road and we could get more hitches.

Once we had got into Poros, Ariel and I went to the beach and saw three Greek teenagers jumping from a small pier. So we climbed up there from the beach. We had beat the first group of hitchers from Base Camp Turtle to the site. The third group came quickly after us, however, so: 6 of 1; half a dozen of the other.

The jump from the pier was only about 5 meters into the calm waters of Poros Harbor. Ariel, who had never jumped into water from higher than the side of the pool, jumped twice to her and our delight.

After an hour or so we all started filtering back to Mavrata. Ariel and I made it quite quickly on the Poros – Skala Road, thanks in part to a Orthodox priest driving a beat-up late 80s Cintron.

From High Diving Poros

Ode to Fleabag

From Katelios

January 2009 – June 24, 2009

O, Fleabag, where have you put my shoes?
O, Fleabag, who we hardly knew.
O, Fleabag, even when skies were grey
You brightened up our day;
But, now here in this field you lay
And we will miss you.
May you rest in peace.

Meeting K209 (6/23/09)

Before our shift start Ariel mentioned that we should get a turtle tonight, because it was our last shift together and neither of us had tagged a turtle yet. This was odd because Ariel and I must have had 8 or 10 shifts together over the past three weeks. That’s more shifts than I think I had with everybody else combined. We had done the Koroni Bike, Hike and Kayak trip 3 or four times and night shift together for the fourth time.

Night shift is the “real” mission of the volunteers. It involves going to the long Mounda Beach at 10 pm. The beach is divided into two – Kamina and Potamakia. A pair of volunteers spends the night walking up and down one portion of the beach (four volunteers in all) looking for nesting turtles. If we find a turtle we are to observe its nesting process. This continues the entire night, until 5:30 am.

The two of us walked along the beach. At 1:30 we were making our way back done Kamina toward the Hotel. And, there in the sand was the distinctive trail of a sea turtle dragging itself across the sand. Ariel went ahead to see if there was a “down track” – which would mean the turtle had already left the beach.

One night shift the week before, we missed the down track and Ariel had followed what we call a “false crawl” (a beaching without nesting) in a U around me as I lay in the prone position. While it was a bit funny to see her crawling around recreating the turtle’s own false crawl, it was disconcerting that again we did not see a turtle nesting.

This time however, it was not a false crawl; there was no down track. Instead, there was a turtle nesting in the soft sand of Kamina. She was recreating a process that has been going on for 100 million years. Sea turtles spend the vast majority of their lives swimming and diving in the sea. But, as Blair Witherington describes in “Sea Turtles,” they are “inextricably tied to the land for their reproduction.” A male sea turtle will never return to land after its big run for the sea as a hatchling; and a female will only return to land once every 2-3 years to nest once it has reached sexual maturity.

The nesting process of the Mediterranean loggerhead is similar to all other species of sea turtles. A female loggerhead returns to the area near where she, herself, was born. There are seven steps to the process. First she comes ashore looking for a suitable spot and walks back far to the back of the beach where it begins to incline. This is a tremendous effort for an animal that has evolved with wing like flippers designed to “fly” through the waves during dives for food.

Once she has found a suitable spot she creates create a “body pit” that is a comfortable place for her to lie upon while she lays her eggs. She uses all four of her flippers in unison to hollow this out. Some scientists believe that she is also testing the sand for the appropriate dryness to build her nest. This is where Ariel first started observing her.

The next step is to dig out the “egg chamber.” I realized this may be my only chance to observe the nesting process first hand, so this is when I began to slowly crawl forward to Ariel’s position. The turtle was using her back flippers to slowly dig, one flipper at a time, her egg chamber. She takes one flipper, digs some damp sand out and places it next to her. Then she shifts her body the other way to use the other back flipper and do the same. She does this until she has excavated an acceptable chamber. This spherical hole is about 2 feet down and one foot in diameter.

While it was hard to make out exactly the activity in the new moon darkness, it was obvious that she had stopped her digging and was now in the egg laying process. All the flipper activity has stopped and she has begun depositing her 70 to 170 eggs in the egg chamber – the average is 115.

This is when the volunteers get to work. In the earlier periods, she may have been spooked by the American and Canadien nearby. But now she has reached the point of no return and will continue regardless of possible predators. Ariel and I quickly scooted across the sand toward the nesting turtle. Ariel checked her for any previous tags. Once Ariel was convinced she had no tags on her (on the turtle – not the Canadien girl), I moved in.

Weeks earlier, Ariel and I had decided I would hold the turtle and she would tag. The Mediterranean loggerhead is smaller than other loggerheads but still can grow to one meter long and 100 kg – larger than me. Others in our group had discussed how hard it was to hang onto the back flipper, which is exceedingly strong. Florian had lost control of his turtle’s flipper completely. So, I grabbed the turtle’s back flipper at the “elbow?” and held tight.

Ariel took out the “tag gun,” which is more like vice grips, and placed tag number K206 in it. She then placed the gun in the webbing between her phalanges and pressed down. We have been told that it is equal in pain to piercing an ear – but, to my knowledge no one has ever asked a turtle about this. The turtle jerked her flipper quite violently back toward her shell. But, because of previously stated plans I was ready and the flipper did not move much.

We then checked underneath her flipper for success. It was not complete success. Like a staple the tag must pierce the skin then fold over on itself to secure the tag. The tag had not folded over, but had pierced the skin and gone through the hole in the tag on the other side. Thus, Ariel took the gun and pressed it again and we got a successful fold-over, flush against the back of the tag.

Now, we took out our turtle measuring tape. We measured her top carapace (that’s “shell” in turtle research jargon) across its widest point – 72 cm (24.5 inches). Then we measured it lengthwise – 77 cm (30 inches). [For turtle people, these are “curved lengths.”] This concluded the turtle volunteers’ active work on the turtle. So, we retreated back to a reasonable distance from her.

Once she had finished her egg-laying, she carefully replaced the sand back onto the chamber using her back flippers to pack it a little bit. She wants to keep it safe from predators, but not limit the oxygen that reaches the incubating eggs. Once she finished the covering process, she moved to “camouflage.” This is a wild flailing of all four flippers. She flapped them around grabbing all the light dry sand about her and covering the area around the nest – hoping to erase all traces of the nest. There was a distinctive thumping sound on the ground as she flopped her body and flailed her flippers in this act of cover and concealment.

Once she sufficiently camouflaged the nest, she began her long laborious crawl back to the sea. She pulled her body down the beach. Then K206 walked unconcerned into the crashing waves of the Ionian Sea – never to see her progeny again. K206 may return to the beach up to 4 times this year to lay more clutches of eggs, before migrating back to her winter feeding grounds – probably near Venice in the Adriatic.

In the morning we were joined by the two from Potamakia to measure and GPS the site of the nest. Ian drew a quite detailed map of its location. The four of us then covered up the remaining tracks and the nest. And we were off, back to Base-Station Turtle for a well deserved sleep!

For the Laurels – Ancient Olympia and Olympia to Poulaki – 25 miles (5/29/09)

As I returned from my sprint, I noticed everyone was kind of staring at me. A British tourist came up and commended my run. “How far is it?”

“About 150 yards,” I said.

“Not a lot of people would run it in this heat.”

I found the comment odd. I came all the way to Olympia; I’m sprinting the fucking track! As a matter of fact, I did it at Nemea and Isthmia, too. Now I’ve done three of the four parts of the Ancient Grand Slam. Once I sprint Delphi, I’ll be one up on Roger Federer!

Olympia is remarkably well preserved. The temple of Phillip and Hera were awesome (along with the altar to Hera where they light the torch). But, the sight of the temple to Zeus is magnificent! You can see the spot where the statue of Zeus (one of the Seven Wonders), was situated.

But the jewel of the site is the museum. Neither Schliemann nor various British earls were hear to steal the original friezes from the Greeks. (I’m sorry “buy” the rights to it from the Ottomans). Specifically, the statue of Hermes is a treat. I would put Olympia on the list of most see before you die things.

After the Archeology Museum, I went across town to the Museum of the Modern Olympics. I don’t think it was worth the 2 euros I spent to get in. It was like me and another guy had a couple of pins from the few games, got some pictures together from the net and pasted it all to walls. Outside of the machine that apparently took the flame to space for ’76 Montreal and a few original torches – I was unimpressed.

I left Olympia and made my way to Poulaki campground. The guy who spoke almost no English did not have my reservation that I had made over the internet. His English speaking daughter then got into it with him. I think she was telling him he had to check the email everyday.

The older man definitely didn’t feel the internet was that important: “eegh… internet, internet” was his answer to his daughter.

Fortunately there were plenty of sights. I set up camp and grabbed a swim in the Ionian Sea for the first time.

To the Games - Patra to Olympia - (5/28/09) - 80 miles

It was officially the right moment!

For 100 kilometers I dragged 100lbs of gear on nothing but a tomato, coffee and a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. 25 km from Olympia my head started to bounce with visions of Anna’s Tacqueria. I could have eaten 4 chicken and rice quesadillas at that moment. When I asked myself if Anna’s might have expanded to Olympia yet – I knew it was time to stop for a minute.

Somewhere in my gear was my savior. A special friend sent me a gift two Cliff bars. I ate the first after my long ride to Perachora, when I was in Vrachati. I almost ate the second, but decided to save it for the right time. Considering if a small chain of tacquerias in the Boston area had expanded all the way to Ancient Olympia seemed the right moment!

****

I was thankful to leave Patra. It is a quite dull city. And, it is the rudest city I have ever been to. (Mind you I’m from Boston). With 80 miles on the road ahead, I made my way early to St. Andrew’s Square and the Starbucks. I never drink Starbucks at home but it is the only place in Greece where you can buy 500mL of coffee all at once.

I took the small old road along the south coast of the Gulf of Patra. Unfortunately, as soon as I left Patra, the road was closed for construction. I wound through the roads of Achaia looking for detours to Pyrgos. Eventually, it did carry me back to the roads to the old road.

I found a small cafe/mini-mart in a village along the way with old men sitting about. I grabbed a Nes from the café and two tomatoes from the market. I sat at the table in the café eating one of the tomatoes.

An older guy who was waiting at the bus stop began complaining that the Patra bus wasn’t coming. While I do not speak Greek, it was obvious one of the coffee guys was telling him to ride my Patra. We all shared a laugh.

One guy was surprised. “Menes ellinki? (do you speak Greek?)

“Ohi (no)” I said “but you told him (pointing to the guy at the bus stop) to ride my cycle (using my hands to show the pedal motion) to Patra (pointing back to the city).”

Everyone laughed “Nai (yes), nai (yes)”

After what I can only assume (or hope) were well wishes from the café sitters, I set back onto the old road. In Kato Achaia, I ran into more problems. It is one of these Greek towns that while it has not lost its village flavor, has lost its village size. So the roads are too small for the number of people who now live there. And the signs to Pyrgos were just gone.

I got directions, that despite not being in a language I could understand were quite explicit. He through in some Italian that I could sort of figure out. (Since I have started to tan nobody thinks I’m German anymore, they think I’m Italian). But he also gave me fantastic gestures and visual queues including the break lights of a nearby car for traffic light etc. So I was comfortable heading towards Pygos/Olympia.

I took the new road through Achaia according to the guy’s directions. It was not as scenic as the old road and did not go through all the little villages. But, it was less steep and there was a huge breakdown lane that made me quite comfortable riding along it.

The next place I stopped was Lechiano. I got a grilled ham and cheese sandwich (“toast”) in a small café on the square. They had speakers hung about on the trees. They played bad 70s and 80s American rock. “I Want to Know What Love Is” came on. But without the whole gang or a Swiss guy with a mullet doing tequila shots, I chose not to sing the chorus.

After Lechiano, it was more distance on the new road. The first 100 km of the trip was not terribly difficult – just long. But, with 25 km to go, I was starved and popped my first tube of the trip! Two Albanians watched me pretty intently as I changed the tube. (They thought I was Italian as well!) As I left they told me I should get a car next time.

The last 25 km of the Olympia trip were by far the worst. I was tired, hungry, smelly. And that’s when the hills hit. I had to drag myself over three huge hills (they weren’t that big – but after 100km of cycling lots of things are big).

It took me nearly two hours from Pyrgos to Olympia. But I kept the Olympic fanfare in my head; that kept me going when all else failed! I found my hotel, showered and got some Mousaka! (It was very good and it WAS mousaka.)

Break on Thru to the Other Side

View Break on Thru to the Otherside in a larger map

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.

Down the Coast Road

Προβολή Down the Coast Ride σε χάρτη μεγαλύτερου μεγέθους

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.

The Ditch , the Jump & the Swim

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!