posted by Guest blogger - Kris Goodbody | 0 Comments
We stumbled off the boat into the merciless heat of a Greek afternoon, wine still sloshing around in our stomachs and hazy memories of planned day trips with Turkish truck drivers and lawless wrestling matches with hoards of wry Italians. It was in this unenviable state that we made our way to the nearest internet cafe for the dual purposes of planning out our route and availing of their air conditioning.
Upon sitting down I noticed that the gentleman to my right was openly viewing the sort of gay porn that would make Boy George blush. After a brief meeting between myself and the lads, it was decided that it would be sleeping with one eye open from then until Athens.
The days on the bike were some of the toughest on the trip so far. Temperatures pranced around the forty degree mark and the constant fear of those around you can do terrible things to a man. For the first time on the trip we managed to get separated into two groups by an ill advised turn on my part, while one half of our group managed to find a campsite I was left to make my bed in the car park of a rural pub.
The last night before we made the push for Athens we spent on an out of the way beach with the dim lights of the city in the distance; I remembered the first night in an old pub in court town imagining where our last night would be spent a continent away, and I went to sleep struggling to imagine a better place.
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Marta Wilkerson said
Bill Strain said