Beside the Seaside

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Athens

Route: Ag.Theodori - Megarda - Elefsina - Athens

Nb. I edited out 31 paragraphs from this entry before publishing it: on the Greek Orthodox Church; on religion in general; on Greece in general; its complicated history and contradictory view of itself. Not flattering. But I'll keep that for another time. I will publish it eventually because that's what this blo-- I mean diary is: what's happening to me inside my head as well as all around me. But not now.

--

Somehow, this became a three-day visit to Athens' suburbs rather than the outrageously inspiring museums, archaeological sites and downtown shopping district. I've been lucky enough to visit them on a couple of separate visits in the last five years. But all the same, what kind of loon rides their motorbike up to the foot of the Acropolis just to take a photo...

... and then rides off to see the likes of Nea Iraklio, Kifissia, Kypseli and Egaleo instead?

One who is staying in a campsite, for a start. Campsites don't happen in the middle of town, only in the 'burbs.

--

To the Vlachtsis home to see the lovely people who invited me to the baptism -- and there's nothing like a chat about religion and politics over coffee'n'cakes to make my conservative, Orthodox hosts wonder what they've let through their front door.

But try as we might to disagree on certain small matters, like Life, the Universe & Everything, it's all done in the nicest possible way and there seems no getting away from the fact that we all enjoy each others' company. (Well, I really do. I think they're fab. You'll have to ask them what they really make of me. And if you do pop round, take Maltesers -- they love 'em.)

--

I took the Bonnie north to Eliofil, Greece's main Triumph dealer, where Vangellis and Andreas were able to sort the spring on the sidestand in a couple of minutes -- though in my defence it took the pair of them, a motorbike hoist and a fiddly little gadget. That's Vangellis on the right. How I wish his colleague was called Jon..

"If this happens again," Vangellis told me sternly, "I mean when this happens again, it won't be fixable. You'll need a new spring."

He clearly expects me to be riding across the Corinth Canal regularly. Which sounds pretty good to me, come to think of it.

--

And that evening Nassos, the chairman of Eliofil and Mr Triumph in Greece, invited me to dinner. He's a gentleman. And he manages to have both a faraway look, and a glint, in his eye when he talks about bikes -- and Triumphs in particular. He devoured stories of the trip from a professional and a personal perspective. Keen to know how the bike has performed. Glad to hear it gets a lot of attention from older men rather than younger women (he knows full well which ones are likely to go off and buy one of their own.)

I wasn't the only person at our table-for-two who liked the sound of a long, long journey on a Bonneville.. but I was the only one whose personal and business commitments allowed me to do it now. I am, as I am reminded every single day, a lucky man.

And in return, I learned a lot more about modern Greece: much as I enjoy the sights and stories of Ancient Greece, I'm riding through a very different country, populated by very different people, and their story can get overlooked in the rush to do the history thang. It hasn't always been a happy story. Wars between neighbours; civil war between Greeks. Boyohboy -- it isn't always straightforward.

--

Nice campsite. I enjoyed meeting Henk (on the left) and Herman -- Dutch bikers who then had a little neighbourly tiff of their own last night. Instead of declaring war, though, they just decided to ride home separately. A shame, but the height of diplomacy compared with some of the politicians and generals in these parts.

Here's Herman's old BMW. Loaded to the gunnals. His two camp chairs are bungeed to the far side. His diving flippers sit on top of the right-hand pannier. Yes! And that grey box on the left of his top-box is a working fridge

And after they had gone their separate ways, another biker arrived in the campsite. Kuba comes from Gdansk, started his summer's ride by heading north to Norway but still managed to arrive in Athens hotfoot from Syria and Jordan. Brilliant. He's having an amazing time -- and deserves it, because he's doing amazing things. Check out his travel blog.*

Can you tell, from this photograph, that neither of us had our contact lenses in? Look at the bloomin' camera!

*It helps if you can read Polish ;-)

--

Athens. It's quite crowded.

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