End of Days

We leave tomorrow. In the early hours with probably only a handful, if any, hours of sleep under our belts we fly from Budapest back to Stanstead on the 6:20 flight. I wonder if the Ryanair cabin crew will still be so cheery at that time in the morning. My guess is that they probably will be, fuelled by Irish spirit and the joy of selling cigarettes by the carton. It's been a good time and I hope I don't wait another six years before going travelling again.

Our final night in Belgrade was again punctuated with the consumption of Balkan liquor and dancing on boats. I managed to lose track of Poya at about 2am and didn't see him again until 6am when, with a flourish, he enthusiastically woke me up to inform me we had to leave for our 6:45 train to Budapest. He had managed to stay up all night, get someone else drunkenly into a taxi for their flight, eat a burger, feel sick on a boat for about an hour after drinking 'some blue shots', and eventually wake me up for the train. Well done him. I would've failed in reaching the train without his help as I had already happily slept through one of my alarms. Tip: when you need to get a 6:45 train do not go to bed at 04:30. Although, our flight tomorrow is really early and I think we plan on not sleeping. Perhaps we will inadvertently win ourselves some extra holiday. Insurance covers new flights due to sleep, right?

Early morning Poya making sure I'm ready for the train.

Budapest is good. It's really nice to walk around in and there's a huge amount of interesting, unique bars including ones built inside old abandoned buildings. However, I don't think so-called 'party towns' are generally for me. We went on a pub crawl and my idea of fun is not being led around by a gruff sounding man who is prone to shouting things such as 'Come on you pussies' and 'Let's get wasted!' My reaction to that is generally 'Do we have to?', 'Can't we just sit down?', or 'Does anyone have chess?' Obviously I enjoy drinking and meeting people but the regimented, macho nature of it all seemed a bit forced. We went to a Spa Party (ingenuously named Sparty) two nights ago. That was really fun; I'm not sure I've been drunk/swimming before. Although I found it odd that as soon as people are surrounded by a translucent liquid their drive for public fornication seems to sky rocket; the edge of the pool was just a public gallery of people's sex faces.

Back in the land of phone signal

The day after rafting we decided to climb to the highest peak in Montenegro. Well, I assume it is the highest. Montenegrins seem to speak in hyperbole when referring to their own country’s natural achievements. I have heard claimed multiple times that the Tara canyon is the second largest in the world, second only to the Grand Canyon, but a quick bit of Googling finds no evidence to back up this claim. Either way, the mountain was really high. I was fine throughout the majority of the climb until we reached the final 200m of the 2600m mountain. Suddenly a large sheer drop opened up in front of us and we had to scramble up rocks in order to reach the summit. Normally this type of ascending would be really easy for me but with a massive drop below me it became a bit more worrying. I sat at the top of the mountain clinging onto nearby rocks even though there was quite a large gap between me and the edge. Whilst Poya and the Dutch guys we climbed with took photos, smoked cigarettes, and ate Panda Cream I descended back down the mountain walking on all fours in a crab-like position. I survived without plummeting to my death and am glad I did it.

The day after we went canyoning through a small, narrow section of the Tara Canyon. I was slightly worried I might feel claustrophobic but there was only one tight section that worried me a bit. I’m seem to coming across as a man of many fears but I promise you I am very strong and very handsome. Canyoning was really fun: jumping off rocks into pools of water, traversing across streams, and butt sliding down naturally forming chutes. About halfway through a Belgian guy got the onset of hypothermia and we all had to give him a bear hug to stop him shaking. Our guide decided it was his wet-suit that wasn’t doing its job properly and stripped down to his orange, spotted underwear in order to change suits. We deposited him in the sun and rubbed him a bit more and that seemed to do the trick. Afterwards there was more whole fish for me to consume in their entirety.

Zabljak was great. We stayed an extra night and managed to sell out bikes to the hostel owners. I got slightly less than I might’ve liked but 130 Euros isn’t bad and the owner of the hostel was really nice so I didn’t mind giving him a good deal. We wanted to bungee jump off the Tara bridge whilst there but unfortunately it has been made illegal. There used to be a British company who ran the bungee jumping: they did it well, and had an 100% safety record. However, some of the locals decided that was their money to earn and blackmailed the guys, eventually driving them out of the country. These men then took over the bungee jumping and three people died in the first week. No-one got prosecuted as all the deaths were attributed to mistakes made by the customers, bungee jumping was subsequently made illegal, and that was that.

                              Poya standing confidently while I hang out low

We took the bus to Belgrade yesterday and went out to a club on a boat in the evening. Usually on this trip I have been going to bed pretty early as I get sleepy and lose the ability to conduct meaningful conversation. Apparently to some travelers this is sacrilege and the whole point of traveling is getting really drunk most nights (or so I am reliably informed). Either way, I put my sleepy nature to the back of my mind and went to a loud place. It has been a long time since I have been to a loud place and I was pleased to discover that the way I approach these places has changed quite dramatically. I remember when I was younger feeling pretty out of place and thinking I should be dancing or interacting with people in ways I didn’t feel comfortable doing. However, this time I just really enjoyed doing stupid dancing, often I would have to stop for a bit as I was making myself laugh (I probably looked insane), and just taking pleasure in observing people puffing up their neck feathers and cooing at the opposite sex. Really fun.

What I wrote on the other website

An overdue update

As I mentioned on Facebook I dropped my phone in the toilet. I thought that the toilet light wasn't working (apparently it was) and I was trying to use my phone as an urination illuminator. I must've jabbed at it rather vigorously and propelled it into the toilet. The stupidest thing was that in my inebriated state I continued to make toilet for a good few seconds before the wires in my head connected and realised that this was a not a good idea. I picked up my now rather sodden, disgusting phone and looked at the screen. It was putting on a rather colourful flashing display as if it wanted to die in a spectacular fashion. After this show it faded to nothing and would not turn back on. Paya wisely suggested not trying to turn it back on and putting it in a bag of rice. Unfortunately I am not a wise man and did neither of these things. I have since bought another phone (of the Windows variety obviously) but have never had both phone signal and WiFi at the same time so cannot gain access my Google blog. Ah well, here is a write up of some things that have happened:

I think the last thing I wrote about was the rather wet cycle that we did up to the monastery, so I will start from after that. The nest day we cycled from the capital Podgorica to Budva. We said goodbye to Nino, who worked in the hostel, with plans to meet with him again when we returned in a few days time. The cycle to Budva was really fun, the small mountain road snaked alongside a massive lake, and the lack of cars made for a relaxing ride. We had fish soup for lunch with cheese ‘that my mama makes’. The final climb before Budva was long, sweaty, and Paya had to push his bike some of the way up. Generally I cycle ahead of Poya and Paya on the uphill climbs. I think this is due to my thinner tires and the fact I don’t have a penchant for consuming an unholy amount of cigarettes. Although I should probably chalk it up to my supreme fitness and unrivaled manliness. In their defense cigarettes are very cheap here. The downhill into the city was great fun as always, with only a slight sketchy moment when I had to fit through quite a small gap between a cow and a passing lorry. Budva was a much more touristy city compared to Podgorica: it housed inflated prices, loud beach clubs, and scantily clad women trying to lure you into restaurants with the promise ‘I’ll be your waitress’ (who knows what that might lead to? Perhaps a salad?). It wasn’t for us and we only stayed one night. Although I did have a great time zooming around on a hired jet ski and it took all my courage not to go and sit alongside the children in the 7D cinema. From the pictures I ascertained that the extra dimensions were jerky chair movements, bad special effects, and disappointment. There was an 8D cinema as well but I didn’t want my mind blown.



The cycle to Kotor was short. On a nearby beach SeaDance festival was happening and we happily cycled passed a traffic jam that must’ve lasted at least 7 miles. The journey ended with a mile long tunnel that was awful to go through: it was loud, the path was really thin, and I hit my foot on a protruding plastic thing that I can only assume was imperative to the tunnel’s functionality. The Old Town in Kotor is a car free, cobbled city full of beautiful old buildings and a plethora of stray cats. We loved it there and stayed three nights. As soon as we arrived in the hostel shots of Rakia were forced into our hands and we proceeded to get very drunk. Later I dropped my phone in a toilet (did I mention that?). During our time in Kotor we cycled to a monastery 5,000 ft above sea level from which you can see 80% of the country. It was tiring and on the descent Poya fell off his bike, fortunately he managed to do a very impressive forward roll over his handlebars and did not fall off the mountain (I would’ve probably led with that news if he had fallen off the mountain). On a good day you can see Italy; we could not see Italy. The day after we went on a rather more sedate ride around the bay with a Canadian man we found in a corner. He hired an electric bike from the hostel which decided it did not like functioning or having a chain about two thirds of the way round. We therefore spent the last 9 miles pushing him along in shifts. It was fun. That evening we walked up to yet another Monastery about 1000ft above Kotor; it was quiet and pretty eerie and Poya and I filmed a mini-horror film which I will try and upload somewhere. I will maybe post the link below this on Facebook.



I’ve got bored of just writing what I’ve done so I’m going to do that quickly and then write some other stuff (not sure what yet). Cycled back to Podgorica. Really fun windy downhill. Had a Top Gun Ice Cream (3 stars). Met Nino. Drank beer; ate meet. Stayed at Hostel Nice Place (booked purely due to the name). Got given 4 litres of homemade wine by Nino (nice man). Failed to cycle to Zabljak (was far and Poya’s ankle hurt). Sat by a nice river. Went on a bus to Zabljak (took some convincing and bike disassembling to be allowed on). Arrived in Zabljak: mountain town. Had to buy a jumper as it was cold. Amazingly the jumper says W4 on (THAT’S MY LONDON POSTCODE). Hostel owners made us a barbeque. Talked to people and drank too much homemade wine. Next day went on a rafting tour on a river through a canyon. Was promised 100 Israelites; they didn’t materialise. Zip lined across the canyon. Had a nap. Found an internet café. Wrote a blog.





Ok so. Writing exactly what I do is kinda dull. It’s a lot of ‘I cycled here’, ‘I had fun’, ‘I dropped my phone in a toilet (did I mention that?)’. Either way here are a few disconnected things, observations I have made without much context.

Apparently you’re not meant to eat the whole fish. I was given a whole fish to eat and though ‘Apart from the head Imma gonna eat all dat’. I then tucked in, so engrossed it my culinary experience I did not notice how everyone else was approaching their dead river friend. Apparently you don’t normally eat the tail, skin, spine etc. Apart from being a bit crunchy I enjoyed it all. I almost ate the head. But I poked it with my knife and the eye popped out and that freaked me out a little bit.

Everything comes with bread here. I’m pretty sure if you were to try and buy drugs it would come with a separate bag of bread crumbs. Even just getting a salad or an omelet comes with a big bowl of fresh bread. That’s nice; I like bread. Paya refused to throw away any bread and would cycle around with stale day old bread which he would munch by the roadside.

Car horns are mostly used to warn you of cars presence rather than for cross reasons. This is much better as hearing a horn whilst cycling lets us know we are about to be passed by a car. In London I instantly think that I have done something naughty, or an irate motorist is angry at me for a reason that does not make sense.

I can’t remember the name of a delicious ice cream I had. But it would’ve gotten 5 stars. It had a lcvely chocolate syrup that ran through the centre of the cone and I couldn’t fault its presentation. (I am currently in an internet café; I hope someone isn’t reading the stupid things I am writing. If they were that sentence probably freaked them out and caused them to stop. Yeah, I’m talking to you!).

Dead animals I have seen: dog, cat, hedgehog, snake, lizard, frog, some sort of thin brown thing, insects (I have eaten a few of those as well (accidentally)). I was keeping count of how many of each one I had seen but gave up pretty quickly; my mental tally only goes up to ten. There are probably more. I will have a think.

I have thought of more things to say but can’t remember them, I should write stuff down so I remember. I won’t do that. These things will do for now. I will post this on actual blog if I get my place back. If not I’ll keep doing it here. Will update on Facebook where stuff to read is. Not complicated at all right?

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Wet Men

Yesterday our plan was to cycle a 60 mile round trip allowing us to visit the Ostrog Monestry, which is a monastery built into the side of a mountain. So we set full of optimism, and with a song in our hearts. To measure our optimism Paya had a happiness meter on his handlebars, the needle of which needle was teetering dangerously around 'Euphoric' at the start  of the cycle. Unfortunately about 10 miles into the ride we cycled directly into a thunderstorm.

Dry men

With our spirits undamped and Paya's happiness meter reading 'happy, wet and determined' (it's a very precise metre) we plowed up the mountain in the pouring rain with lightening striking the valley not more than a mile away from us. It was a very wet time for all involved. We decided to cancel the monastery visit due to the weather and after a coffee and a conversation in broken English with some pleasant restaurant proprietors we circled around and headed back down the mountain. Descending in the pouring rain was a cold, and slightly scary experience as sheer drops without any safety barriers were pretty common. However, we survived and the happiness meter read 'still wet, still optimistic, and looking forward to a flat cycle home and the forthcoming prospect of watching the World Cup final and having a beer' (we all had to squint at the meter to read that particular one, accurate as it was. I also may or may not have caused a car crash (jury's out).

Wet men

Wet men

 

Evening was easier: ate a stupid about of meat for €5, and watched the football with people from the hostel.

I think I am going to restrict my ice cream reviews to cone shaped ice creams, otherwise it might have the tendency to get silly...

Lion Ice Cream: On first glance this ice cream does not impress. The colour of the caramel flavoured ice cream is something akin to vomit and the chocolate on top is poorly presented; it is also very brittle causing you to displace quite a lot of ice cream as you bite into it. The caramel ice cream itself tasted slightly odd to me, but the inclusion of a chocolaty conclusion meant I left the experience in a good mood. 2 stars.

The weather that made the Wet Men wet when they were previously dry.

 

Albania - Montenegro

After getting stitches I decided that it would not be the brightest idea to cycle 85 miles so went and loaded my bike into the back of  a furgon (essentially a minivan) which would take me across the country to Tirana. There were points on the journey where I was sad I had decided not to cycle, such as during the elongated downhill sections. However there were moments where our little van was teetering along small mountains roads in the pouring rain with unguarded death drops on either side of us that I thought that maybe I had made the correct decision.

Tirana was really good. A few years ago the mayor had realised that the communist era buildings that make up most of the city were not very appealing. Unable to build new buildings he decided to paint them in bright colours, often adding stripes or interesting  patterns. It gives the city a unique look that I enjoyed. Due to how cheap everything is out here I decided to buy myself a vaguely expensive meal. I had a massive swordfish steak for just under 20 pounds, which came cut fresh was a massive swordfish they had on ice. I was in a hostel and was looking forward to talking to people for the first time in a while. Unfortunately, the first people I talked to gave me a little bit of weed that made me very sleepy and unsociable for the rest of the night. Ah well, my book is pretty good.

Racing stripes in Tirana

 

"How can we improve this murky brown area?"

"Put some colourful triangles on the pipe"

 

Today during my cycle to Montenegro I got two punctures. That was poo. A nice friendly Albanian man helped me with one of them and pulled a spiky object out my tire that was causing the issue. Everyone is Albania has been really friendly. However, at one point a car pulled up and someone handed this man a large roll of Euros that gave me the impression he was also involved in some untoward business outside his roll of roadside bike helper, which I had previously assumed had to be his job. I crossed the border and cycled to meet Poya and Paya, who had gone out and bought very cheap mountain bikes not suitable in any way for the cycling we plan to do. Any fear I had that they might get super professional bikes and always zoom ahead of me dissipated quickly. I went and got thinner tyres put on my bike from a man who spoke very enthusiastically about pitball terriers and all was happy.

Poya and Paya

Kit Kat Ice Cream – Similar to a Cornetto but with chocolate ice cream the Kit Kat Ice Cream initially impresses with its neat presentation and single Kit Kat stick going down the centre of the cone, peaking out of the top of the product. The lack of chocolate at the end obviously disappoints but due to the chocolate ice cream it isn't as glaring an omission as on other similar products. 4 stars.

Dog bites, stiches, ice cream etc.

A dog bit me today (see above)! I had just started my cycle and a pack of about 10 dogs appeared from behind a gate and started chasing me down the road. Usually when a dog from a property begins to give chase they loose interest once you have cycled on for a bit. However, these ones were particularly tenacious and a little while up the road one sunk its teeth into my leg. This caused me to veer off course and ride into the side of the road resulting in me coming to a stop. With me now stationary the dogs seem to loose interest and trotted back to their dwelling, leaving me with two reasonable sized holes in the back of my calf. I rode down the hill and asked the next person I saw if he knew where I could locate a bandage of some sort. This bearded fruit seller seemed to sympathise and pointed me in the direction of a place two towns over that had ‘a clinic’. The clinic turned out to be a pharmacy and the friendly man behind the counter put some anti-septic brown juice on the wound and bandaged it up for me. For the rest of the trip through Greece I was exceedingly wary of dogs, even stopping when I thought I saw a pack of them ahead on the road (they turned out to be sheep). However one more dog did give me a little chase but gave up pretty quickly.

The Albanian Border

I crossed the Albanian border easily and headed off towards Pogredec. I stopped at a bank and exchanged 150 Euros for Albanian Lek. This was a move of excess. I just ate a meal of three kebab skewers, salad, chips, bread, and two beers that set me back the equivalent of about 6 Euros. Having this much money for two days is too much; I will probably go for a really nice meal tomorrow in Tirana. Who knows, it might cost me over 10 pounds. The rest of the cycle was nice. I went through a lot of Albanian farmland and saw people going about their day to day business. I would’ve liked some more photos of people but I felt intrusive cruising in on a bike and taking people’s photograph as they worked. One thing I did really enjoy was a donkey I saw, fully loaded with hay, walking happily along the motorway. I took its picture and wondered where it was going. A little further down the road I saw a man running in the donkey’s direction shaking his stick. He smiled at me as if to say “I have lost my donkey. But don’t worry, I am faster’. My mountain bike also came in handy here as the Albanian idea of a road seems to sometimes be a field you can drive through. There were lots of stony paths and muddy ditches for me to navigate. It was really fun.

When I arrived at the hostel I told my host about my dog ordeal and was quickly whisked away to hospital. The man at the Greek pharmacy had said to seek medical attention if I started feeling weird but the hostel owner thought it was better if we went even though I was feeling fine. The doctor spoke no English but kept saying ‘No problem’ and giving me a thumbs up as he stitched up my bite marks and injected me with what I assume was a rabies vaccination. They didn't charge me for the affair and apart from being pretty painful it was quite a painless affair.

Final thing before I sign off. After my disappointing Cornetto experience I tried another ice cream cone today; it was simply called ‘Nestle Ice Cream’. At first it was a bit underwhelming as the top didn't have any chocolate or nuts on it, just plain ice cream. However, once I got past this the cone was far crunchier than the Cornetto and was very satisfying. When I reached the conclusion I was delighted to find solid chocolate waiting for me at the bottom of the cone. Result. This was a far better experience than the Cornetto and one I would happily repeat. 4 Stars. For more ice cream reviews and hopefully less hospital trips please check back regularly.

Also, I just tried to buy a few cherries for a snack. I offered the equivalent of about 80p and now have over 100 cherries to contend with. Oops.

This is not the best way to hold an ice cream

 

The Final Words from Greece

I'm not sure how I thought I would be able to update this every day. First night since my last post I was too tired to think of words and then last night the place didn't have WiFi. So I am now going to write a lot of things from my room-with-a-view in Sidirochori.

First the bullshit: Cornettos here don't have chocolate at the end. That's the best bit of a Cornetto! I mean, you're not having a bad time during the first 95% of the Cornetto experience but it's all leading up to the satisfying chocolaty conclusion. Disappointing! Ok, now that's out the way...

I was still feeling a bit weird the next morning and got up stupidly late for what was going to be another long cycle. Then when I got to my bike it had a puncture. A nice Greek hotel chap and I repaired the puncture and off I went. The day was mostly climbing which was bad. But it was punctuated by eating a delicious beef goulash, which was delicious (as previously mentioned). I also got chased by a barking dog with a weird eye for a while. Normally barking dogs wouldn't worry me but I was tired and its weird eye unsettled me. After that encounter I had to have a lie down by the side of the road to get my brain working again.

As I had cut my 90 mile day into two I didn't have a hotel booked for the night. Rather than being sensible and researching a place to sleep I just looked my map picked a town that looked nice, and headed towards it. It was a tiny place but it was near water so using flawed logic I assumed there would be a place to stay. Everyone loves staying near water even if the place only has ten streets, right? Incorrect.

After my long day climbing it finished with a really long, really fun descent culminating in me pulling into my tiny town far later than I wanted to. As soon as I entered a boy on a bike pedalled quickly away from me. Good start. I approached a man in his drive and asked about the possibility of a hotel. He seemed confused so I put my head on both my hands, closed my eyes, and tipped my head at a jaunty angle hoping this was the universal sign for sleep. 'Cigarette?' was the response. After a bit of this he understood what I meant and launched merrily into a torrent of Greek and pointing. From this flurry of noise and gesticulation I managed to ascertain a town name and a direction; I then set off promptly towards Aiani: The Fabled Land of Possible Hotels. On arrival the town was desolate but after a bit of cycling around I found a man parking his moped in his garden. I asked about the existence of a hotel and once again used the 'universal' sleep gesture. 'Follow me' was the response and he jumped back on his moped. After a short ride through town, during which my chain came off meaning I finished the journey running behind him whilst pushing my bike, we reached a hotel. I slept.

I'm writing too much so I'll sum up the next day in a few concise sentences: Feeling much better. Shorter day. Relaxing cycle. Ate a disappointing Cornetto. Had an argument with my bike (we resolved the issue). Saw a dead cat. Big climb at the end. Town was beautiful.

What's good about Greek motorways is that they are built next to the old main road and not on top of them. This means there's usually a nice calm road for a me to cycle on that still follows the most direct route. Today was pretty similar to the day before. Covered just over 40 miles and there were actually clouds in the sky for once. Ended up with a massive climb up to the highest point I've been so far. I also saw a pelican.

I keep thinking of stupid things to write here but I forget them by the time I get to actually composing it. I'll try:

Oh, I passed a farm full of cows and it smelt like the British countryside.

Ermm, I see shrines by the roadside all the time here. Not sure if that's the exact position where someone got killed or if by the road is just where people put their memorials. Often there are bottles of liquid inside.

My facial hair is itchy and doesn't look good.

More often than not I am the only guest at the hotels and I get my own personal breakfast buffet laid out on one table. Today I asked for more milk and the guy left quickly via the back door, which was then followed by the sound of a moped driving away. When he returned with the milk I felt I had to drink most of it due to his effort; I only wanted a drop more in my coffee.

I am having loads of fun but I am looking forward to being with people I can talk to. Tomorrow I stay in a hostel so I might be able to do some chatting there. I mean, I am exceptionally good company and I find myself far funnier than I should but the evenings do drag a bit.

I would post more pictures but this mountain internet is slow and bad.

Albania tomorrow.

More stuff I went and done

Since the last time I wrote something two days worth of stuff has happened. This is predominantly due to two days passing.

I got a bike. A nice Greek man drove me across the island and dropped me in front of a place full of motorbikes. Slightly worried there had been a communication malfunction I tentatively made my way inside. At the back of the shop I saw an abundance of bicycles. I asked a man in my slowest English (which is still pretty fast) that I would like to purchase a bike. He looked confused and ran to the back to gather a man who I could communicate with. After a while I had a bike and a plethora of free stuff including spare inner tubes, a multi-tool, and puncture repair kit. What nice Greeks. The bike is more of a mountain bike. While this means I can't pick up up the same amount of speed on flat roads I have already been glad of its existence multiple times when finding myself climbing up stony, dirt tracks. I've heard the road conditions in Albania are awful so I think I have made the correct decision.

I took my new bike for a 30 mile jaunt around the island and quickly decided to start my trip a day earlier. The thought of doing a 70 mile day followed by a 90 mile in this heat made me sad.

Before that there was another performance of the Central Asian Experience (not its actual name) to attend. Before hand we all sat outside and they played music whilst the dancers danced. Their enthusiasm for always playing music and generally being upbeat is really nice. At one point later in the evening we went on a tourist car/train ride around the town and they clapped and danced for the whole 40 minutes. I happily joined in for about 15 minutes before having to sit back and relax,  they instead went fully loose for the duration.

The next day I planned to head off early but unfortunately the day before I had combined beer and watermelon which apparently disagrees with my stomach. I am told this combination doing bad stomach things is common knowledge; it is nothing I have ever heard of. So after a rather unsavoury morning including multiple toilet trips I felt well enough to leave at 11, about 3 hours after my planned starting time.

Due to splitting my 90 mile day in half this was my longest day. It was a mixture of really tiring and amazng fun. During ascensions I am constantly thinking 'Why am I doing this? It is so hot. I'm an idiot'. Whist going downhill I am thinking 'AHHHH!This is amazing! Weeeeeeee'. The downhill sections more than make up for the climbing.

Here are a few things I noticed whilst cycling about:

Farms smell different here. Perhaps it is the heat or the different combinations of animals but I'm not getting the homely smell of manure that permeates the majority of the English countryside.

There are so many unfinished homes. My guess is that due to the amount of spare land people buy it thinking of building their own house and then cant afford to finish it; perhaps when the Economy went wrong. Sadly you see some people living in the single finished room of their massive shell. Luckily, I'm sure the people who are selling housing foundations are laughing.

People are generally friendly. I stopped for an ice cream and the woman there gave me free water and let me sit in the back of her little shop whilst I cooled down.

That will do for now. Here are pictures:

The musicians

Resting in the shade

Unfinished house

Thought I'd try and take a selfie

 

Second Attempt...

 

 

No more selfies.

 

 

Pasty White Boys Shouldn't Go in the Sun

Surprising I have managed to turn my skin a rather fetching shade of red. Thankfully due to my rather lacklustre application of sunscreen I have more of a patchwork effect rather than being completely red; I think this is better. We spent the morning on a boat going around nearby islands before stopping off for a beach time. As I jumped in the water I realised I hadn't swam for a few years and it took a few strokes before my muscle memory re-engaged. Luckily after a few unwieldy flops I got back into the swing of things.

Later we had to go to sound check for this evenings performance at the festival. This was a slight task as most the performers speak Russian, I speak English, and the head tech man spoke Greek. It was also delayed by 15 minutes by a majority of our performers getting themselves trapped in a lift. But we got there in the end. I feel slightly surplus to requirement as so far my duties have included putting things on a USB stick, taking them off again, and telling a man the running order. I'm not saying these things aren't important but I'm sure someone could've worked out how to do them without me here. Who knows though? Perhaps only I know where a USB stick goes.

I've been enquiring about how to get to my proposed cycling starting point and the answer seems to be 'with great difficulty'. It's not a huge issue but it will add an extra 30-40 miles to my first day. Ah well, I'm sure my burnt legs with love the extra time spent in skin-tight lycra shorts...

Where I got burnt

A friendly Greek man trying to save the performers from a lift.

 

I packed and have successfully navigated the skies and arrived in Greece. It is warm. During the flight Ryanair tried their hardest to sell me copious amounts of unwanted shit, including telling me a J2O would help me 'chillax'. I was already pretty chillaxed and didn't want to risk one in case I became too chillaxed and passed out from too much relaxation.

At the hotel I enquired about where to find a bicycle. I was told there was a shop in a nearby town 20km away, the brother of a hotel worker is driving me there on Saturday morning so I can purchase one. Good news all round.

 

Picture from a boat I did went on:

 

 

 

I have not packed yet

My things are not in a bag. They are on my bed. I look at them and think, 'Are these the correct things? Perhaps there is a completely alternate set of things that would serve me better? Is it a mistake not to bring a shovel?' I have therefore stopped thinking about that and decided instead to work out how this thing works. So far it seems to be that I type words here and then everyone can see them via the internet, whether they chose to look at them or not is a completely different matter.

Questions that will be answered throughout this trip:

By the end of the trip will Patrick's facial hair look good? (Probably not)
What is the reddest Patrick's skin can go before it falls off? (Probably very red)
Is it a good idea to go on a cycling holiday without a bike? (Probably not)
Are the Greeks good drivers? (I've heard they are erratic)

There are probably more questions to be answered but these four seemed the most pertinent to me. Hopefully by the time I start travelling I will have some more interesting things to say.

I'm going to test out this thing's picture attaching functionality:

Yep, that works.

Ready to go.