The week started just as I hoped - I got my bike back. Greek import procedures proved be a bit of a song and dance but after a few hours running around the port (including a frustrating hour and a bit shuffling between four counters all to allow me to pay a 7 euro ($10) fee) I was allowed to ride it away. At slightly over US$1000 for the bike and $300 for me that was an expensive few miles crossing the Mediterranean.
The very next morning it was back on the road again and the first stop was Meteora, which had been recommended to me by Megan. It's a place of high peaks beloved by climbers but noteworthy because monks and nuns of yore had chosen to build their monasteries and nunneries on top of many of the steepest and most defensible of them, making for some spectacular (if strikingly impracticable) buildings.
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| If you look carefully at the centre of this picture you will spot an abandoned monastory - even the monks thought this one was a bit extreme |
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| 12,000 litre wine barrel- well you need something to keep you going when cut off in winter |
Whilst in Meteora I managed to get the bike tyres changed as the pair that got me through Africa were not going to last the rest of the trip.
Unfortunately there was a sequel to this next day. ...
An uncanny similarity to what happened after the previous set was fitted in Cape Town - and both flats are not punctures but rather caused by errors by the tyre fitter. I think I'll go back to doing my own tyre fitting.
Come the end of the week I've moved countries again and headed into Turkey for a brief visit so I can attend the ANZAC Day Dawn Service at Gallipoli. Crossing the border proved a contrast after the last six months of experiences - suddenly it was all orderly lines and logical progression from one counter to another, I rather missed the adrenalin rush of the african crossings where you wandered around trying to work out the systems with lots of locals guiding you, smiling, talking (and sometimes trying to sell you something).
Turkey introduced itself with a wonderful experience on my first night, I was sitting in a cafe, people watching and writing up my journal when a local approached me and with out much preamble said "I want to make you a gift" - and gave me this lovely leather covered note book.
The inscription he'd written in it really touched me "Whoever and wherever you are remember us". A beautiful generous gift given with no thought of a reciprocal offering - these are the things that make independent track so special and I'll remember long after I've forgotten details of the scenery and monuments. Thank you Ojiwz.
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