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Finish at the office around about 6.30, then a quick stroll home, sort out what I’m taking, and off down to collect the van. Finally leave for Dover at about 10ish, and catch the midnight SeaFrance sailing to Calais and at £95 open (night) return I was pleasantly surprised, as a one way from Calais last year cost £110, ripped off? You bet!
Arrived in Calais (at just after 3 local time) after not being allowed into the Duty Free shop with a bag, and unable to get any Euros, other than by changing my Sterling I fortunately had in my pocket, still I don’t think £70 will get me far.
At Calais start the journey to Greece, not enough time for the scenic routes, so straight down the autoroutes. Well that was the plan, but by about 7am it was time for a couple of hours kip, so after finding a suitable rest area I zonked out on the back seat. At 9 I carry on my merry way, sitting at about 55mph, only about 850 more miles to do!
Still felt a bit on the tired side (maybe I shouldn’t have gone out on Thursday night resulting in 4 hours sleep and a slightly unpleasant hangover, oh well such is life. Pull into another rest area about 100 miles from Strasbourg, and pick up a couple of Dutch hitchhikers heading to Vienna. After doing a fair bit of hitching in the past, and not really knowing Vienna as being the murder capital of the world, I didn’t have any objections, and they seemed quite keen on the idea of travelling in the van. The plan was to drop them just outside Basel in Switzerland at a petrol station, so they could continue their merry way.
The van had been performing impeccably, though the fuel gauge didn’t seem to moving quite as much as I was expect t t t t ting. Ok don’t trust the fuel gauge I think to my self as I coast to a halt on the hard shoulder. Following a similar incident in Italy last year I now have a couple of gallons in a can, much to the relief of the Dutch guys.
So back up and running, and entering Switzerland. Speedy process? I think
not queuing to get in, and to pay the €30 tax, then sitting for about
an hour in traffic to have the pleasure of getting out the other side of Basel,
and trying to find another petrol station. How long can a 1500 VW Splitty
sit idling on a gallon and a half of petrol? Eventually I get out circling
a roundabout a couple of times and finding a petrol station, then drop the
Dutch guys off at the requested petrol station.
Feeling in need of a stop, and to check the van over, I stay there for about an hour (occasionally seeing them trying to get lifts, they may still be there actually) Then just as I’m getting ready to carry on, another VW camper pulls up. Obviously I stop and have a chat, nice German guy, heavily into his VW’s (http://www.t-quila.net) driving a T quila (formally a T mobile signal detector)
Turns out he’s heading in the same direction and suggests he follow me (no faith in Boris’s reliability? It should be fine as it’s Australian not German!). As I’m eager to make a move, I suggest that he catches me up (not difficult, even for a diesel) and then we can go on together, or until he gets bored sitting behind a not too quickly moving splitty. Anyway about an hour later, after a ‘rather heavy’ thunderstorm a flash of lights behind me (no, not the police wanting to know if I’m having problems with these things called hills!) and there he is. After a while I pull over (slight wiper blade problem, in that I didn't know I had detachable rubber blades, that had indeed detached, well one had, the one I got from Finland was fine, just not quite straight). So after a very pleasant coffee and a blade swap, we head off again for a couple more hours.
This is where the fun started, crossing into Italy The Idea was to skirt round Milan and head down the A1 as I was going to Ancona, and he was turning off a bit earlier. Well boy was I impressed with myself, getting around Milan, absolutely no problems, straight to the start of the A1 and, closed signs. Ok have a quick look round, ah! Diversion signs pointing to Bologna, no problems. Follow the sign, then turn of at the next one, then, err, anyone see another sign? After about an hour of going round in circles, and even having locals ask us the way each time we stopped no joy. Then Olaf saw a sign pointing to the A1, at last, and we’d only been round the roundabout twice (along with most of the cars following us (I was in hysterics when I saw this trail of lost Italians!) So follow the signs to the A1 and yes, eventually we get there and it’s, closed! Ok time for a rethink, have a look at the map, hunt out the alternative route, and forget the A1. Well this was the route that everyone else decided to follow too (except for the ones deciding to make a night of it in lay-bys etc). So this smaller road was rather busy. At 3am we finally got put back onto the open A1 and headed towards Parma.
At the earliest opportunity we stopped in a rest area and called it a night (well morning actually as it was heading towards 4am at this point) had a very welcome (despite it’s warmth) beer, and got a few hours kip. 9am and off we trot. It’s at this point we realise our dreadful mistake. We should have gone past Bologna last night, instead it takes several hours of crawling through very slow moving traffic before finally leaving it behind us.
At Cesena Olaf turns off for, and a quick check of the front of his van shows I’m still leaking a bit of oil (that’s good, shows I’ve still got some to leak!) and I head on to Ancona, arriving there at about 3 in the afternoon. After another foolish mistake (I followed an Italian road sign and had to turn round and go the opposite direction) I made it to the port. Now before I left I found one ferry leaving on a Saturday at 5pm for Patras in Greece, and none on Sunday, so I wasn’t too sure if I’d have to spend another day in Italy or not. Fortunately “SuperFast” ferries ran a service at 7 so I could get that. €160 later my van and I were booked onboard, the van got the company of a large number of lorries, and I got the deck for 21 hours, lovely. It really wasn’t that bad, infact it was better than last years crossing, partly because I managed to sleep for a lot of it (had to catch up with me eventually, and it had been my plan to let it catch up on the ferry). I also had a cracking book to read that a close friend gave me a couple of days before leaving.
The ferry docked at about, er, no idea, I think it must have been about 3 or 4 in the afternoon, and I went to get the van. Damn! Bit of a mistake with where I’d parked it, right level, just the opposite end of the ship, oops! Still, as I was at the far end from the unloading ramp it didn’t really matter, and in actual fact I got to the van, sorted out what I needed then drove straight off, and the wrong way along the docks. One quick U turn later and there’s the signs for Athens.
Anyone planning this route to visit the Olympics, FOLLOW THE TOLL ROADS! As I wasn’t going to the Olympics (they don’t start for nearly a month) I took the normal roads, Oh yes I remember, drive on the hard shoulder to let people pass, English road signs tend to be after the Greek ones and just before the junction (unlike Italy where if there are any road signs they may be anyway in relation to the junction, or more commonly in relation to a completely different junction on another road entirely).
So I headed towards Athens, found a little campsite that charged a total of €8.10 for the night, and went to sit on the beach for a while, then when it got dark, ah! That’s why I love this place, the stars, you can see them, and with the warm wind (28C in the van at about 11pm) as well as the surf washing onto the shore about 20m from the back of my van. Yes, that’s why I’ve come back.
Left the campsite at about 9ish, and headed towards Tolo, not the worlds greatest
place, but a good beach, reasonable night life, and all the supermarkets you
could need. Took the scenic route, ok I admit I misjudged the optimal route.
No I didn’t get lost, I knew I was in Greece, I also knew I was heading in
the right sort of direction, and anyway I ended up on the fantastic new dual
carriage way that sped me down towards Nafpilo, unfortunately it ended in
a T junction with a narrow lane, still makes for entertaining driving. After
I while I made it to Nafpilo and this time (last year I made a real pig’s
ear of it) went straight through an onto Tolo, without even going straight
across at the junction that I missed last year. Into the campsite (wired up
the electric for the first time ever!), went down to the beach, and am now
sitting back in the van, drinking a cool (no, not cold, it’s only a cooler
not a fridge) coke. I know it should be beer, maybe later!
Beach, books and a couple of beers, what more could you ask for?
Left Tolo to head down to Monemvasia, not the fastest of journeys, but very
pleasant views, and a few long climbs to about 3000ft. Leonidio is a great
place, I remember coming through here last year so knew to go straight ahead,
always the best idea when in
doubt.
It’s quite a large village, or seems it when you drive though it, as the streets
are very narrow with no pavements, lot’s of turnings and not too many road
signs. You’ll realise that this is just a training ground when compared to
Kosmas, again very narrow, no pavements, driving through the middle of the
square, almost into café tables, then down and round some sharp steep twisty
concrete lanes. Must be fun in the winter or anything bigger than a VW. Currently
I’m sat on a windy beach in the camper, sending annoying picture messages
to various people. Tough life!
It does help, having done this trip last year, little things like making sure you’ve got a full tank of fuel when leaving Tolo, remembering some of the ‘stickier’ junctions and knowing which way to go. Also knowing what a great campsite ‘Camping Paradise’ is. Ok I don’t know why I love it down here, the site is on the smaller size of medium, the beach is small and gravelly (and normally deserted) there’s a bar, a small shop and the restaurant, which in my opinion is great. Nothing too fancy, just fairly simple fresh produce at very reasonable rates with (if you pick the right table) great views. I guess it’s because it’s so quiet and the friendly people who work here, not to mention the stunning scenery.
Wondered down to the beach for a couple of hours, then drove to Monemvasia,
parked over the causeway and wondered up to the old town. By coincidence,
today (23-7-04) is a festival marking the freedom from the Turks (1821? Not
too sure about that), and to commemorate the deeds of one man in particular,
who used to row out to the Turkish ships in a small rowing boat filled with
gunpowder, light it, then swim back to shore. During the evening flares are
let off a navy vessel sails around, then they set fire to a boat and set fireworks
off. Most of this you can see from the campsite, despite it all happening
a few miles away across the sea. Anyway back to the old town, well worth a
visit, with it’s narrow streets (no motorised access, in fact the streets
are too narrow and steep for anything other than the most dextrous of motorcycles),
so everything has to delivered by barrow. It is a truly lovely town, especially
if you stop for an hour or so and have an iced coffee in one of the cafes.
I sound like an advertisement here don’t I, sorry! But I love this bit of
Europe (and following last years tour, I’ve seen most of the warm coastal
areas, so I know what I’m talking about. Be warned though, it is quiet, don’t
expect to find a heaving nightlife, you’ll actually be hard pushed to find
a heaving supermarket!
Spent most of the day at the campsite, sitting on the beach reading one of
the books I brought along. Took the van down the coast towards Ariana, through
the fire scorched hills, where the Sheppard’s had set several fires to burn
off all the old growth and promote new, though I wonder if they really planned
to torch such a large area. At least it looked as though very few of the trees
had been damaged, and I guess they know what they’re doing seeing as I expect
they’ve been doing the same thing for many centuries, and next year it’ll
no doubt be good grazing again. Have to say this weather is mighty warm and
not a breath of breeze, and at 31C in the van at about 2.30 am I think I need
to move a slightly cooler spot. Today was the first time that I’ve been here
and not had the benefits of a cooling wind to make the van comfortable (as
far as I’m concerned, anything under 28C is comfortable to sleep in, when
I’m back in London I think I’ll get the winter duvet out and put the heating
on, after all it is nearly August!)
Left Monemvasia and slowly wondered over to Pilos on the west coast, Again
it’s a place I visited last year and found it to be a wonderful town, hardly
touched by tourism, with I think the largest in the area, as it’s almost cut
off from the open sea by islands. It’s a lovely place where you can sit and
either eat and drink at one of the many Café’s or just walk round the harbour
watching the fish.
After a few hours in Pilos, off up the coast northwards for no better reason than it’s tricky to go much further south. Taking this road, or the one I was on anyway took you past Nestors Palace (closed at 3.30, now 5, oh well, next year….) as well as some Tholos Tombs, not sure what a Tholos is, but I went to have a look at the one by Nestors Palace, and quite impressive it was to, as for the echo, well I wouldn’t have wanted to say anything stupid in there as it’d just keep rebounding off the walls till you felt really daft.
Following from here I carried on up the road looking for another campsite, went past one I stopped at last year, as it was on quite a slope and found myself hanging out of the window in the morning (ok not that bad, but I knew there were a couple of others not too far away) and came across one that claimed to be the most beautiful in Greece, don’t fall for it, noisy (generators), poorly laid out and the food was not to be recommended.
Surprise surprise, left the campsite and wandered up the coast a bit (noticing another campsite about 1km from where I’d stayed the night before, filled up with fuel, turned left and found the beach. Good beach! Long, sandy, but very windy. Spent a few hours there, then went back to the second campsite just outside Tholo, not to be confused with the burial mounds or Tolo, ah daja-vu , no, have been here before, 2 mins walk from the beach, but how much? €11 a night, the previous place was only €7, but then again maybe there’s a reason…..
I wanna refund!!! It’s raining. Oh well guess it had to happen at some point,
though ideally in about 4 days time when I’m not here! Ok well the weather
cleared up by about 11 and as I was undecided as to going back to Olympia,
today I decided not to, and spent the afternoon on the beach. Pretty impressive
waves (for the Mediterranean) even a couple of surfers out. Strong currents
too, and a hysterical mother who couldn’t shout loud enough to her husband
and son who were quite a way out. Only to find that they were total strangers
out there and her family was quietly standing behind in fits of laughter (along
with most of the people in the vicinity). Ah well all good fun! Wondered up
to one of the beach café’s to watch the sunset.
Last full day, oh well. Wandered north towards Patra and the ferry, popped
in to Olympia to see just how they were celebrating the forthcoming (2 weeks
hence) Olympics in Athens, as I’d been lead to believe that this was meant
to be one of the main tourist areas. Ok well, most of the car park was fenced
off, there were fewer road signs and the new road is far from ready. Ok well
I’m sure the rest of the Olympics will be fine! As I had the place nearly
to myself last year, and despite the car parking problems there were a lot
of people around, I decided to pass by. I ended up just south of Patra at
Kato Alissios on another coastal camp site, nothing too special, but I have
had a chance to oil and grease all the vans essentials before the start of
the fun 900 mile drive home.
Switzerland can be crossed on a tank of petrol, so no need to pay over the
odds in shilling. Though it can only just be crossed, might be an idea to
carry a gallon or two, especially if you get caught in a queue trying to get
out. Also on the French side it’s a few miles to the nearest fuel station.
Not many fuel stations have ATM’s and trying to find a bank in Italy’s not
a good idea. Well finding the bank’s not too bad, just trying to get back
on the autoroute afterwards that can be a bit tricky.Some French (in particular)
fuel stations only take.
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