19/12/24
The surroundings were quiet and we slept deeply. When we woke up we decided the bikes needed a light cleaning. The wheels of the black Surly were first. Frustratingly one of the spokes was loose. Not the new one, a different one near the valve this time. After fruitlessly trying to tighten it, it became obvious it was actually broken. Inside the nipple this time so it hadn’t flapped around.
It probably broke going up over the steep bridge across the railway before going on our adventure to get into Bari. There had been a random loud pinging but we’d assumed it was the gears, which sometimes happens. The second time around it was much quicker to replace. But now we were left with no spare spokes. The ones we’d bought in Benevento were useless. The bike shop had measured them from end to end, instead of from the j-bend, so they were way too long. We should have looked it up ourselves, but when they seem so confident…
We didn’t manage to leave till half past eleven. And instead of shooting out of town we went to a bike shop. These guys had a spoke measurement tool, but he didn’t seem to understand the nipple still had some of the spoke broken in it. He insisted it was shorter than it was. After the last time we ignored the confidence and demanded longer. They didn’t have any the correct length and just as we were going to give up he found 7 out the back. We bought them all, 10 cents each.
Finally we were leaving Pátra. We joined EuroVelo 8 here. It comes down the coast of Greece after visiting Albania, Montenegro etc. This was the route we’d wanted to use but it was too hilly for the limited time we had on our Schengen visa. We managed to find the only unpaved roads in the city and headed out towards Pio.
We passed right next to the huge suspension bridge that holds the accolade of possibly having the longest cable-stayed “suspended” deck in the world. We were going to be beside the sea for the foreseeable future. At first we were on smaller side roads before hoping the old national road. The old road has been superseded by the motorway and therefore has far less traffic. Large trucks are only to use it for the final part of their journey too, they can’t avoid the tolls by driving the old road.
Next to these roads was an almost unbroken new ‘road’ except this was actually the railway under construction. At the moment it doesn’t quite reach Pátra, and you have to get a bus to Aigio before changing. As we moved along, either above or below it, various pieces of infrastructure were present or absent. As we got closer to Aigio it became more developed.
We were sent on a couple of detours off the old road to either see the sights or avoid a particularly busy section. In Aigio we managed to find our first actual cycle path of Greece. Leaving so late meant we were hadn’t covered as much distance as we’d liked. It felt early in the day, but it was the middle of the afternoon. Suprisingly, there was a campsite open but it was another forty kilometres away.
We decided we could make it, the road was slightly undulating but easy to ride. Greek roads were of far better quality than the Italians we agreed. After a stop, and detour around, Diakopto, we were armed with more bread and also some raisin must cookies.
It was only thanks to the westerly winds, and the warmth of the Sun, we could even consider carrying on. We were being blown along at an excellent pace. It helped that after Diakopto the scenery became immense. The road clung to the coast and we were cycling along one of those classic roads you’d see in James Bond. The Sun was setting and it looked phenomenal. In hindsight we should have taken some pictures but it was too enjoyable to think about that.
It was getting pretty dark, we’d gained some extra time from the clocks changing but we’d used it all. We popped our lights on for the final five or ten kilometres. The campsite was down by the beach. The lady was friendly and it wasn’t crazily expensive like the last ones we’d visited back in Germany. ‘Akrata beach camping’ was also open all year round. We were confused at first but there was no grass, we had to pitch on the gravel. Lucky we had a freestanding tent then.
After a hot shower we ate dinner on the benches outside the restaurant under a dim light. It was just bread, baked beans and some salad but it tasted good, it had been a long day. Large and pink the moon was rising over the sea, and we stood to stare for a while. Back in the tent we could barely distinguish the sound of the wind from the sea. White noise could be a helpful sleep aid, not that we needed it.
Surly They Won't Make It 