Greece
Heavy Fruit, Sandy Beaches and Deadly Killers
In this blog article we enjoy
a lot of apples and peaches. We joke about snow and moan about cobbled streets. I then discuss my deepest fear before we get into some smelly baths. We do a workout on a beach and have doughnuts and cake as our last meal in Greece.
Heavy Apples!
Somehow our mood and impression of the landscape changes as we cross the border from North Macedonia to Greece. Everything around us seems greener and more lush.
After a long day of cycling we are happy to find a spot to wild camp on the outskirts of Kelli in northern Greece. We even have views over the valley below. The dogs from the farm next door bark all night but don’t keep us awake. We’re shattered after the last few days and so sleep straight through till sunrise.Â
About 1000m above sea level and at the end of September it is starting to get cold at night. When we start off in the morning we are therefore all the more grateful for a coffee in the warm at a nearby cafe before continuing on downhill towards Lake Vegoritida.Â
On a flatter section after the lake we follow the road towards Edessa with apple orchards on both sides. Old tractors pulling trailers and lorries, presumably full with produce, buzz past. We approach a crossroads and slow as a small blue tractor is crossing about 50m ahead of us.Â
We almost come to a complete stop as the tractor half parks in our way with the driver pointing at the apples in his trailer. I pull up alongside the trailer as the farmer jumps down from his seat. Mumbling something to me in Greek, he points at the apples in his trailer. I gratefully take one and turn to put it in my bag on the back of the bike. He continues to talk to me and now standing next to me, fills his hands with apples and pushes them in my direction.
I fill any spare space with the 10 or so apples I have been handed. The man then walks around his trailer, grabs items from the other side and walks back to me. Peaches! I place the peaches on top of the apples, as Jana takes over the “conversation” and says thank you in Greek.Â
I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but it’s lucky that the road to Edessa is relatively flat. My bike is now unbelievably heavy and it’s quite difficult to pedal, weighed down with apples and peaches. I’m only joking of course. It’s moments like this that make this trip so special to us.
Local Knowledge or navigation app?
Our dessert at lunch, an apple and a peach each, is interrupted. An elderly gentleman walks around the corner and takes a seat next to us. We are sitting at a picnic table under a wooden roof, sheltering from the sun on a small village square.Â
The German flag on the back of Jana’s bike must have given it away, as the gentleman introduces himself to us in German. Quite the surprise for a remote village in northern Greece. As it turns out, he has worked most of his life as an engineer in Germany. He has now retired back to his home town a few kilometres from where we are sitting.Â
The shelter we are sitting under, he says, was renovated recently. He seems quite happy about it. The only problem is that the builders didn’t fix the fresh water tap next to the shelter, despite him having told them multiple times it doesn’t work. Typical Greek, he says.Â
We finish our conversation and lunch and start off to the left. We manage about 20m when we hear shouting from a balcony to our right. A lady shouts “Edessa?”, to which I reply, “yes”. A gentleman sat next to her, smoking a cigarette, then points the other way. The lady then does the same. Thus suggesting that we should ignore our navigation app and go the other way. We make a u-turn and power off up the road suggested to us. Luckily we listened, as the road is brilliant and has completely new tarmac.Â
A few pictures of wild camping
A misunderstanding and more peaches!
The waterfalls and rivers of Edessa are really impressive, but we don’t have time to stay long. Komoot takes us on a route through the town and down a back alley past the falls. We come out at the bottom of the town. After passing the water pumps, that presumably keep the waterfalls flowing, we are surrounded once again by fruit trees.Â
As the evening draws in we are on the lookout for a place to pitch the tent. We enter a small village and approach some farmers, sat at a table in a courtyard. After a courteous exchange of hello in both Greek and English, we use google translate to ask if they will let us camp on one of their fields. The group doesn’t appear to understand what we are asking for, nor do they understand that we need to use the phone to translate.
A gentleman stands up and continues in Greek, then walks over to a scooter. He opens a bag lying on top of the scooter and fills his hands with peaches. He then comes over and passes them to me, returning to his scooter. This time he comes back with dozens of walnuts and hands them over. Unexpected, but nice I think. Still not quite sure if he has understood us, he then gets on his scooter and indicates with hand gestures that we should follow him. We are in luck, we think.Â
He leads us through the village at quite a pace. Jana suggests I go faster if I can, to make sure at least one of us keeps up. Pedaling like mad, I manage to stay a few meters behind. Luckily the traffic lights ahead are on red so the man has to slow down. He stops and points along the main road to the left. “Thessaloniki”, he says. He then puts his arm down and turns his scooter around. We thank him again, in both Greek and English before he rides off, back to his farmers gathering.
It is irrelevant if he understood our original question, maybe it was just a misunderstanding. We are unbelievably grateful for the peaches and nuts. Continuing along the road to Thessaloniki we find a “wild” spot to pitch the tent between some peach trees.
Snow in September!
To our amusement and unbeknown to us, northern Greece is a big cotton growing region. Riding through the countryside we begin to notice white fluff lining the roads. Joking that it is snow we then see the cotton fields, with their small white bushy plants. As tractors with trailers full of cotton pass us, small fragments of cotton drop out and fly around in the wind, creating a snowstorm effect.
Cobbly, hilly streets
We presumed that as Thessaloniki lies on the coast, we would be at sea level. Correct, for the beach of Thessaloniki. Incorrect for our hostel, where we will stay for a couple of nights. The cobbled streets leading uphill through the town are some of the steepest ascents we have faced. It is therefore typical that we arrive at the location shown on google as the hostel and then have to carry the bikes and bags down a steep set of 50 or so steps to the entrance. Â
It is great to have a proper kitchen again and Jana makes good use of it. She bakes a crumble for us and the other guests (mostly Erasmus students) using the remaining peaches, apples and walnuts. We have several portions and hope that the other guests oblige and have some too. We awake the next morning to see that the crumble has been eaten. Not surprising as it was delicious. To Jana’s delight somebody even washed up the oven tray. I was happy as well, as I got to eat crumble without having to bake or wash up.
A special mention in Thessaloniki has to go out to a waiter at a restaurant we were recommended by the hostel staff. We treat ourselves to two pulled pork sandwiches. We order them to-go, as we want to eat by the sea. While waiting we sit in front of the restaurant and have a beer. Paying, we leave a small tip. The waiter then returns with two extra Nutella filled sandwiches as dessert, on the house. Sweet, cheers.
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My deepest fear
To steal a line from a famous passage:
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure"
– Marianne Williamson –
If you don’t know it. It’s a great poem that was created from a passage in Marianne Williamson’s book, A return to love, and later used in the film Coach Carter. (Click on the Coach Carter link to watch an adaption being read out in the film)
Well anyway, that’s not my deepest fear. My deepest fear is snakes!!
We have made good time today and arrive at Volvi lake before sunset. Jana finds the perfect spot to pitch our tent, right next to the lake. It will be hidden out of sight by some trees on one side and reeds on the other. The area is flat, apart from one large rock the size of a football in the middle. Wanting to remove the one imperfection of an otherwise ideal camping spot, I walk over to the stone and pick it up with both hands.
“Arghhh”, I scream, dropping the rock to the ground and jumping 2 meters backwards. A grey/green snake is slithering on the ground where I had picked up the rock. I am in total shock and my heart is racing as I stare at this deadly killer only a stones throw from me. Alarmed, Jana springs over to see what is happening. “Snake!!”, I shout. “Argghhh”.
Unimpressed, Jana almost laughs while saying, “It’s OK. It’s tiny. It won’t do anything. Calm down”. In absolute panic mode, I am still screaming and suggest dropping the big rock on its head to kill it. Trying to put sense back into my thoughts, Jana holds me back. She informs that most snake attacks happen when humans interfere. We should just wait for the snake to go, she suggests. I calm a little and actually notice the snake isn’t the three meter long killer I thought it was. It’s actually only about 15cm long. Eventually it slithers off into the long grass and we can build the tent. Jana asks what I want for dinner. “I don’t care, just make it quick”, I reply.
After building the tent I get straight in. We eat dinner inside that night and despite needing the toilet, I don’t get out till morning. It wasn’t a great nights sleep either, dreaming of anacondas and cobras getting into my sleeping bag.
Hot smelly baths
Our route today is planned meticulously. There are some hot springs at the end, just up from the beach. The plan is to have a free bath then head back to the beach to set up camp.Â
After getting over my initial prejudice of the springs smelling more than me, despite me riding a bike all day and sweating profusely. Submerging myself into the hot water is a godsend for my body.Â
Yes there are some shady people hanging around and the sulphur smell is quite strong, but the springs were a great idea. I say this despite a second snake spotting on the path leading towards the baths. As other people are present and with Jana’s reassurance, I try my best to suck it up and pretend I didn’t see anything.Â
We are ready to leave and the sun is going down. As we get out of the water and walk back to the bikes, another bikepacker rolls in. Ben has the same idea as us. The look of disappointment on his face though, seeing us, fellow bikepackers, is funny to witness. As the springs are not shown on a map or signposted, he thought he would have the place to himself. Ben doesn’t have a set place to camp this evening either, so we agree to message him when we find a good spot at the beach.Â
Riding the 3 or so kilometers back down to the beach, we find a well hidden spot on a raised sandy path next to the sea. Ben arrives a while later and sets up as well. Agreeing that a small campfire would be good, Ben and I walk off in the darkness with our headlamps to find firewood. The path has bushes and small trees on one side and the beach on the other. I pick up the slim pickings on the path and within reaching distance in the bushes.Â
With the memory of last nights snake incident and the sighting earlier today, I am on high alert, knowing full well this is snake country. Ben on the other hand is jumping into bushes and diving all over the place in hunt of firewood. He’s mental, I think. Talk about throwing caution to the wind. Doesn’t he know there are snakes around here?!
Once the fire has started and wood is burning, with no thanks to me, I mention the snake situation to Ben.Â
“Aren’t you worried about snakes, mate?”. Scrunching his face slightly on one side, almost in amusement, Ben bluntly replies, “No”. He continues, “Mate, didn’t you say you want to go to Australia? I saw loads while I was there and got used to it. This here in Greece is nothing compared to Australia”.Â
Jana, we are changing our route!
Lots of pain, no gain
It is almost October and we have no idea what to do in winter. We only get a 90 day visa for Turkey, so can’t just wait it out there. In order to kill time before we cross the border, we book an Airbnb apartment. This will give us time to research opportunities for winter. The apartment is above a small convenience store in the tiny village of Mangana. We haven’t stayed in an apartment for a while and so are excited to have our own place for the week.Â
Paralia Magganon beach is also only 5 km away. On our first visit we spot a kind of gym area. We suggest to each other that we could even come down for a workout, followed by a swim to cool off. With all the cycling we consider ourselves relatively fit. It might be a good idea to do some stretching and workout some other muscles though.Â
One morning we feel inspired and pedal off to the beach for the said workout. I have a 20 minute routine written out for us and we power through it. Well. We do a bit, then moan. Then do a bit more. But we get it done. We go for a swim then cycle home and complete the rest of our day.Â
Getting up the next morning however is easier said than done. We are both in agony and have the worst DOMS we have ever had. The horrendous pain lasts all week and we don’t go back to the beach for a workout again. Yeh, maybe we should just stick to cycling.
Can I buy your bike?
The small town of Xanthi is an hour and half’s cycle ride from Mangana. For most people, including us, it wouldn’t be worth cycling to. But there is a Lidl in Xanthi, so we decide to make a day trip out of our grocery shop.Â
As all good days out should, we include a visit to a coffee shop. There is a large seating area in front of the cafe, but no free tables. So after locking the bikes to a post opposite the cafe, we begin walking past the tables to find a seat inside.Â
A gentleman sat in lycra cycling clothes at one of the cafe tables stops us to engage in conversation. We explain our trip and what we are doing in Xanthi. Keen cyclists, he and his wife describe the lengths they have gone to, to find a bike like Jana’s for her. After alluding to the possibility of wanting to buy Jana’s bike from us, they are jokingly disappointed when we kindly decline. We had hoped for a nice cake and coffee when entering the cafe, but certainly didn’t expect to receive an offer to buy our bikes.
Prickly Beach
We leave the comfort of our Airbnb and cycle along the south coast of Greece through Nestos national park. With sea on both sides, the road is great.Â
South of Komotini we find a wild camping spot on Imeros Beach. The beach is perfect and even comes with a shower! We aren’t the only campers. Several VW buses are parked about 200m apart, with us in the middle.
One of the vans belongs to Stefan and Nadine, plus dog, who are on a long trip around Europe. We spend a while exchanging stories and then retire to our tent. Despite our conversation only being relatively short, we come away feeling as though we have made good friends. We will definitely keep in touch.Â
After a great nights sleep and opening the tent zipper to the sight of the ocean, we pack the bikes ready to go. Pushing my bike across the sand somehow feels even more difficult than it did yesterday. I look down. My front and back tires are both flat! I have cycled almost 4000km and not had a single flat. After bragging about this last night to Stefan and Nadine, I now have two punctures in one morning.
We stop at the edge of the sandy area and start taking my bike apart. Stefan notices us and comes over, offering his assistance, but most importantly, coffee. We change the inners on my bike and laugh with Stefan and Nadine about how I spoke too soon, before they wave us off.
Getting caught buying doughnuts
Close to the border of Turkey now, our last stop in Greece is near Alexandroupoli. We have loved the Balkans and Greece but are excited to get over the border and experience a different culture.Â
The campsite we stay at is on the beach and opposite a Lidl. Perfect, we think, to get breakfast in the morning. “Stay in bed a bit Jana, I will go over and get us breakfast. We can then have it in front of the tent on the beach with a coffee”, I say. I cycle over the road to Lidl. Strangely, the car park is empty. The doors to the shop don’t open either when I walk up to them. I check my phone. Idiot. It’s Sunday! Supermarkets are closed here on a Sunday.Â
I have no choice but to bike into town, 20 minutes away. Luckily I find a bakery quite quickly. A gourmet bakery. Literally heaven for me right now. I am soo hungry. There is a lot of choice and everything looks amazing. I pay for a doughnut and cake on card then get back on my bike.Â
Expecting Jana to be worried about me being away so long I cycle back as fast as I can. As I pull up next to the tent Jana greets me, “Oi, what have you been buying for €9.80? You were supposed to get a cheap breakfast from Lidl!!!”. I used her card at the shop. Bugger. I forgot she gets notifications on her phone when it’s used. I could be in trouble here…
After the first bite of doughnut on the beach however, I am relieved to hear of her satisfaction. That was a short lived trip to the dog house.
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