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It all started in 2006 on holiday in the Greek Islands, I realised I wanted to go back, spend more time there this year, but didn’t want to be shelling out good money renting out a motorbike . No, I wanted more freedom than that. Solution? Take my own bike there!
Well, maybe not my bike, having already tasted the erm, “roads” there, I knew my 1000RX would be impossible to use, I needed something a bit more suitable. After much deliberation, I bought an Africa Twin, got my act together and at the start of September, headed South for some sunshine.
Started off late in the afternoon, got down to Dover and decided I’d give the Chunnel a go, 45 mins later was blasting out of Calais. Darkness was falling when I got to Arras, stopped in a Mr Bed hotel €31.00. 240 odd miles done.
Next day, bright and early got onto the Autoroute and headed South. I realise there’s much more interesting ways to go than down the Autoroute, but I just wanted SUNSHINE, ASAP. Managed to get to Lucerne in Switzerland as darkness fell (having been relieved of €30 by Swiss border guards for road tax). 480 odd miles today, only really stopping because I don’t want to set up tent in dark.
An overnight camping by Lake Luzern and next morning I’m going like the clappers, I want to get down into Italy and onto a boat.
Time enough for a pic, heading towards the Gotthard Tunnel. What the hell is that white stuff on top of the mountain?? Argh, I want Warm, not Cold!
So, this is why this is a bit of a lame report, one pic so far, with me resolutely bollocking it down through Europe, not interested in sightseeing, there’s a sandy beach in Greece calling me.
So far I’d been going well, mostly sitting on the motorways at an indicated 100mph, not even a whiff of pork at all, all the while the weather gets nicer and sunnier. I’m heading for Ancona, getting quite close, in a line of traffic, when BANG! I wake up with a start as the guy in front hits his anchors.
Yep, that’s correct, I must have dozed for just a microsecond, but it was enough to make me start when I realised he was braking and I too jammed them on. I wasn’t stopping as quickly as him though, and had to swoop up the luckily empty inside lane. I can tell you now I was wide awake, my arse going like a trumpeter’s lips. Strike one, and I’d been lucky. Next time I’ll have a snooze in a service station for an hour!
After 420-ish miles, onto the ferry at Ancona for 20 hours of doing pretty much nothing but sleep on the deck (because I’m too tight to get a cabin). On the way there was a terrific thunderstorm, the hail was coming in horizontally. You know it must be unusual when the crew all go up top to have a look! The sea was as calm as glass though, just the hardest rain and hail I have ever seen. Most disturbing!
Patras, Greece, 2pm on a Friday. I’d been told the road to Piraeus was a very dangerous one. Yeah, sure, so’s the M25.......
‘Kin ‘Ell, that was no exaggeration, I have never experienced a road like this. Basically a single carriageway, with a hard shoulder of varying width before the tarmac peters out. The Greeks drive with one wheel over the line of the hard shoulder. I wonder why? ROOOOOOAAAAAR, a touring coach hammers past me, and the line of cars. And the Artic up ahead. On a windy mountain road. Whilst on the other side of the road, traffic is doing the same. Sometimes cars 3 abreast heading one way, facing 3 abreast coming the other. On a single carriageway!!!! I have to confess I was sweating on this road, 140 miles of mayhem. When it opened out into the big motorway to Athens, I breathed a sigh of relief, and opened the throttle again, I wasn’t looking forward to Athens at tea-time.
Actually, it turned out to be not too bad. Total gridlock, can’t get cut up if the traffic isn’t moving can you?
I asked a taxi driver the way to the port, and he told me to hang a right up ahead. I think I turned too early, but figured I was heading in the right direction so would stay on that side street until I hit a main road. It wasn’t long before I was surrounded by some kids on mopeds, paying plenty of attention. Not nice attention either, I reckoned. They yelled at each other, and I suspected I would be relieved of some of my luggage if they could swipe it I felt very vulnerable, they weren’t just kids having a laugh, they were definitely sizing me up. The laughing had stopped, they began staring me out, I could tell that if anything was going to happen, it was imminent.
A set of lights was up ahead, so I slowed, letting them pull slightly ahead. I reached the junction and suddenly took a left, gunning it down the hill, Left again, then a right, I tried to get back towards the main road I had been on. Pulling to the kerb, I saw the lads hammer down the hill the way I had come, but they didn’t spot me, so I calmed down, took stock of the surroundings and spotted a major junction further on. I turned about face yet again and proceeded back to the port road, where I felt relatively safe.
Anyway, happier now, I filter a bit, make my way to Piraeus. The traffic is easing up, but the idiots are coming out to play as dusk approaches. Plenty of boy racers in their Ford Wickeds, driving like boyracers do the World over, I suppose. Not wanting to be navigating unknown territory in the dark, I hit a ticket agency and find there’s a ferry leaving in a few hours overnight to Paros. That’ll do, it’s the only one heading anywhere in the right direction, so I’m on it!
So, I’m relaxing now, the mad thrash is over, I’m here for some relaxation.
Kipping on the ferry deck again, I feel like chucking a loudmouthed Aussie bird over the side. I didn’t want to hear how she had breezed through Bangkok airport with a bag of weed. A Master Criminal, obviously. She chunders on and on and on, I try tutting and giving them disapproving looks but it has no effect, they don’t lower their voices.
Finally I have had enough, I go over and tell her in no uncertain terms that if she and her mates didn’t keep their fucking mouths shut, one of us is going to be arrested and the other is going to be floating in the sea. I’d climbed out of my sleeping bag to do this, minus my strides. I guess they believed that a grizzly old biker in a cut-off Exodus shirt and boxers, sporting glorious morning wood, probably meant it too, because they fucked off to the other end of the boat. Thank you and good fucking night.
Boat gets in at 6am to Paros and the sun is just peeking over the horizon. Sunshine, at last!! So from here on in, it gets a little fuzzy. I just am going to have 1 liiiiiittle drinkie, just to relax…………..
Fuck knows where I went and what I did. (Well, I know full well, but I’m trying to convince myself I didn’t behave like a lunatic). Just enjoy the nice pictures of the islands.
Some monastery I invaded. The monks weren’t home. Lucky, they would have thought Satan had come to visit.
Local traffic.
Beach. Oh yes, I did plenty of beach.
And the odd dried up salt marsh!! Great playing on my motorbike like a big kid.
Well, maybe not my bike, having already tasted the erm, “roads” there, I knew my 1000RX would be impossible to use, I needed something a bit more suitable. After much deliberation, I bought an Africa Twin, got my act together and at the start of September, headed South for some sunshine.
Started off late in the afternoon, got down to Dover and decided I’d give the Chunnel a go, 45 mins later was blasting out of Calais. Darkness was falling when I got to Arras, stopped in a Mr Bed hotel €31.00. 240 odd miles done.
Next day, bright and early got onto the Autoroute and headed South. I realise there’s much more interesting ways to go than down the Autoroute, but I just wanted SUNSHINE, ASAP. Managed to get to Lucerne in Switzerland as darkness fell (having been relieved of €30 by Swiss border guards for road tax). 480 odd miles today, only really stopping because I don’t want to set up tent in dark.
An overnight camping by Lake Luzern and next morning I’m going like the clappers, I want to get down into Italy and onto a boat.
Time enough for a pic, heading towards the Gotthard Tunnel. What the hell is that white stuff on top of the mountain?? Argh, I want Warm, not Cold!
So, this is why this is a bit of a lame report, one pic so far, with me resolutely bollocking it down through Europe, not interested in sightseeing, there’s a sandy beach in Greece calling me.
So far I’d been going well, mostly sitting on the motorways at an indicated 100mph, not even a whiff of pork at all, all the while the weather gets nicer and sunnier. I’m heading for Ancona, getting quite close, in a line of traffic, when BANG! I wake up with a start as the guy in front hits his anchors.
Yep, that’s correct, I must have dozed for just a microsecond, but it was enough to make me start when I realised he was braking and I too jammed them on. I wasn’t stopping as quickly as him though, and had to swoop up the luckily empty inside lane. I can tell you now I was wide awake, my arse going like a trumpeter’s lips. Strike one, and I’d been lucky. Next time I’ll have a snooze in a service station for an hour!
After 420-ish miles, onto the ferry at Ancona for 20 hours of doing pretty much nothing but sleep on the deck (because I’m too tight to get a cabin). On the way there was a terrific thunderstorm, the hail was coming in horizontally. You know it must be unusual when the crew all go up top to have a look! The sea was as calm as glass though, just the hardest rain and hail I have ever seen. Most disturbing!
Patras, Greece, 2pm on a Friday. I’d been told the road to Piraeus was a very dangerous one. Yeah, sure, so’s the M25.......
‘Kin ‘Ell, that was no exaggeration, I have never experienced a road like this. Basically a single carriageway, with a hard shoulder of varying width before the tarmac peters out. The Greeks drive with one wheel over the line of the hard shoulder. I wonder why? ROOOOOOAAAAAR, a touring coach hammers past me, and the line of cars. And the Artic up ahead. On a windy mountain road. Whilst on the other side of the road, traffic is doing the same. Sometimes cars 3 abreast heading one way, facing 3 abreast coming the other. On a single carriageway!!!! I have to confess I was sweating on this road, 140 miles of mayhem. When it opened out into the big motorway to Athens, I breathed a sigh of relief, and opened the throttle again, I wasn’t looking forward to Athens at tea-time.
Actually, it turned out to be not too bad. Total gridlock, can’t get cut up if the traffic isn’t moving can you?
I asked a taxi driver the way to the port, and he told me to hang a right up ahead. I think I turned too early, but figured I was heading in the right direction so would stay on that side street until I hit a main road. It wasn’t long before I was surrounded by some kids on mopeds, paying plenty of attention. Not nice attention either, I reckoned. They yelled at each other, and I suspected I would be relieved of some of my luggage if they could swipe it I felt very vulnerable, they weren’t just kids having a laugh, they were definitely sizing me up. The laughing had stopped, they began staring me out, I could tell that if anything was going to happen, it was imminent.
A set of lights was up ahead, so I slowed, letting them pull slightly ahead. I reached the junction and suddenly took a left, gunning it down the hill, Left again, then a right, I tried to get back towards the main road I had been on. Pulling to the kerb, I saw the lads hammer down the hill the way I had come, but they didn’t spot me, so I calmed down, took stock of the surroundings and spotted a major junction further on. I turned about face yet again and proceeded back to the port road, where I felt relatively safe.
Anyway, happier now, I filter a bit, make my way to Piraeus. The traffic is easing up, but the idiots are coming out to play as dusk approaches. Plenty of boy racers in their Ford Wickeds, driving like boyracers do the World over, I suppose. Not wanting to be navigating unknown territory in the dark, I hit a ticket agency and find there’s a ferry leaving in a few hours overnight to Paros. That’ll do, it’s the only one heading anywhere in the right direction, so I’m on it!
So, I’m relaxing now, the mad thrash is over, I’m here for some relaxation.
Kipping on the ferry deck again, I feel like chucking a loudmouthed Aussie bird over the side. I didn’t want to hear how she had breezed through Bangkok airport with a bag of weed. A Master Criminal, obviously. She chunders on and on and on, I try tutting and giving them disapproving looks but it has no effect, they don’t lower their voices.
Finally I have had enough, I go over and tell her in no uncertain terms that if she and her mates didn’t keep their fucking mouths shut, one of us is going to be arrested and the other is going to be floating in the sea. I’d climbed out of my sleeping bag to do this, minus my strides. I guess they believed that a grizzly old biker in a cut-off Exodus shirt and boxers, sporting glorious morning wood, probably meant it too, because they fucked off to the other end of the boat. Thank you and good fucking night.
Boat gets in at 6am to Paros and the sun is just peeking over the horizon. Sunshine, at last!! So from here on in, it gets a little fuzzy. I just am going to have 1 liiiiiittle drinkie, just to relax…………..
Fuck knows where I went and what I did. (Well, I know full well, but I’m trying to convince myself I didn’t behave like a lunatic). Just enjoy the nice pictures of the islands.
Some monastery I invaded. The monks weren’t home. Lucky, they would have thought Satan had come to visit.
Local traffic.
Beach. Oh yes, I did plenty of beach.
And the odd dried up salt marsh!! Great playing on my motorbike like a big kid.
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