To Drama

Drama wasn't really a place I had to see necessarily. I just thought the name was funny, and I might be able to get a joke or two out of it. Along the way I had so many jokes that now I don't know which to pick. So as an exercise to the reader: insert a funny drama-related joke wherever you feel is the most appropriate.

I made my way from Thessaloniki in a northern direction. When I took a break another touring cyclist, back at his home so in his civilian clothes, saw me by the side of the road and made conversation. I accidentally insulted him, but only in the slightest, when I mentioned I entered Greece from Macedonia. He corrected me saying it was North-Macedonia, that I should keep referring to it as North-Macedonia, and that it was obvious that only the Greek Macedonia could use that namesake as surely Alexander the Great was Greek, and he spoke Greek goshdarnit. I knew this was a bit of a fued from reading wikipedia, as the North-Macedonians had to pick that specific name for their country, and weren't allowed by the Greek government to hoist a specific sun-adorned flag. He was a nice guy though! We spoke of bicycle trips, of his country, and the disasterous forest fire and flooding that struck Greece the past few months. I learned from him, and from some people in Thessaloniki, that the weather just keeps getting warmer. Somebody in Thessaloniki told me jokingly that you should remember each passed summer as the coolest one so far. The fellow bicyclist added that half of his fruit trees decided to flower during the warmer days of winter, and bore no fruit this summer.

I had a little hill to take to enter the mostly flat valley leading to Drama, and decided to camp a couple hundred meters below the top. The next morning I set off again, having a great view of the mountain village Bertiskos (again, sorry Greek citizens for butchering your alphabet as well) and continued on another one of those great dirt roads. When I reached to top of the climb I was greeted by a group of dogs ambushing me from the trees, all barking in a line formation ahead of me. I wasn't that scared of dogs anymore, you just have to yell a bit, get of the bike, and walk past them. I took a picture of them for memory's sake, and didn't notice a man walking up to the dogs, grabbing some rocks and throwing them at them. Again, not a fan of throwing rocks at dogs, but it did clear the way for me.

I won't mention stray dogs being aggressive all the time in these little blog posts, but scenes like this (apart from a man throwing rocks) would occur a couple of times each day. Either in villages, along dirt roads, or when they came galloping out of some abandoned building you're passing. Sometimes you can see they're scared, and you can pass easily, other times they're a bit more persistent, and you have to brake your bike hard as they're chasing you to scare them off. I've never seen any intention to actually bite me so far, but they do get pretty close if you make the mistake of just cycling onwards.

But I had reached the top! The descent was nice as I find it is great fun to descend dirt roads. You have to throw your weight around the bike after picking a certain line through the wide roads to evade small potholes and big rocks, making the distance much more exciting to traverse.

The rest of the day was spent in agricultural lands, sometimes off-road, then on-road, in quite an enjoyable blend. In fact, most of Greece was traversed in this way. Great to get away from all the cars instead of just heading east from Thessaloniki over the old highway. The next day was spent going over some fun little hills, with an honest-to-god bicycle path (a rare sight indeed) leading up to a small village where I took a little break. Having packed up I noticed my rear tire was flat. That led to good news! I might've mentioned earlier that I botched my first patch-job of the trip, not true at all! I had two punctures that first time. So I could rest easy I still knew how to patch tires! With a bit of time lost I headed to Drama.

Finally, my intermediate destination, that wasn't a true destination in any way or form, was reached. I spent a bit too much time fixing tires, so after a quick and slightly disappointing journey through town I decided to get a coffee and then quickly head to Kavala. Perhaps Drama is a really nice place, I just didn't take the proper amount of time to see it properly. The road to Kavala was mostly straight, but the surrounding mountains and some archeological sites kept it rather interesting.

To Kavala

After making a little climb of the hill on which Kavala was built I could see the city in all of its glory, and I was back at the sea once more.

It was, however, already getting late. Not wanting to get caught on busy roads in the dark I quickly refilled my water and headed east outside of the city. Night fell sooner than expected, so I made an impromptu camp on a nearby hill. I had a great view of the city, and a bunch of stray dogs awaiting me with their friendly greetings. These particular ones didn't seem too aggressive, so I decided to settle down for the night anyway. I tried appeasing them with some of my food, and even managed to make friends with one of them. She lay down near the tent after the obligatory cautious approach, and I was allowed to pet her for a short while. She left after closing the tent. I made sure that none of my gear and food was left outside, but was still visited in the night by many of her barking friends. I didn't sleep very well, but that was my fault really. If somebody came camping unannounced in my backyard I would perhaps also make sure they wouldn't sleep very well.

The next two days I traversed the natural reserves around the Nestos river and lake Vistonida. They have a different definition of nature reserve here, as I was mostly traversing agricultural lands. Kiwis (the fruit, not the bird), pomegranates, corn, and endless fields of cotton, their white fibrous material not just visible on the plants themselves, but scattered everywhere alongside the roads and blown into shrubs and grass.

The second day was most exciting. The sky was covered with dark clouds, rays of light falling down in parallel shafts onto the land, while I made my way along the coast. Such skies really make up for the relatively uninteresting scenery, especially if you have dark clouds overhead, but a bright sun illuminating the land, giving the entire ordeal an otherworldly appearance. I traversed completely empty holiday villages, and remote sandy landbridges shielding a lake on one side, from the sea on the other. Huge fields of grass of all colours, most notably some crimson patches, were around me. At one point the remoteness I felt conjured the thought that I must've reached the end of the world. It wasn't completely devoid of life, as I saw flamingos once more, and the sights and sounds of many other bird I haven't seen before.

One particular traversal of such a landbridge near Glyfada ended up a dead end. My map showed me a fully connected patch of land with a road leading to the other side, my eyes showed me a landscape with little untraversable waterways connected to the sea, preventing me from continuing. Ever more that beautiful grassy landscape around me that reminded me a little bit of the dunes in the Netherlands. I made a decent attempt of a crossing by carrying my bike over some barriers, but came back defeated by mother nature (and a not too friendly dog barking on the other side of a waterway), so decided to take a tiny break in the late afternoon. I planned to cycle the 10 kilometers back when I realised my rear tire was flat again. All the sand stuck to the tire made it hard to see the thorns that caused the puncture. Having unloaded the bike and making the repairs I saw two people walking towards me. While patching I warned them that they couldn't walk any further, and got to know them as Lea and Silvio. They were two germans living in their van who I had greeted a kilometer or two ago, and made their living with their youtube channel "cheap as a bird" (I think they won't mind me giving their names, seeing as they share it online as well). They were quite nice to offer me to join them for dinner, and walked back to their van allowing me to make my repairs. As I got swarmed with a considerable amount of mosquitos and some biting flies (leaving blood for christ's sake) I found myself with another flat tire as I had missed another thorn. I put the spare tube in and headed to their van, as it was getting dark.

I pitched my tent in the sand, thankful for the lack of strong wind as my stakes are not suited for the beach, and was invited into their van for a wonderful dinner, some beers, and the following morning even a cup of coffee. I was very appreciative of meeting them and their kindness, and it was nice to share a couple of stories. The next day I realised that I had finished my hundreth day on the bike, not a bad way to celebrate it. My rear tire was flat again, but it was a new day, so after one more definitive check for thorns (they penetrate so shallow that you cannot feel anything sharp on the inside of the tire, you have to find them on the outside) and two more patchjobs I was on my way again.

Heading past Alexandropolis

I headed back over the road I came, then eastwards along the coast again. That day I had the joy of seeing a beautiful part of Greece. Rocky hills and the sea surrounding the wide dirt road, beautiful villages, and olive trees all around me. Their knotted and twisting trunks growing upwards and exploding into many little branches with their characteristic leaves. My breaks were taken close to beaches. Once in a stretch of pine trees, thousands of dragonflies flying from their tops into the grasslands, some in quite a precarious airborne mating ritual. I have to compliment these little creatures for being much more skilled at managing to fly around me, the ordinary fly tends to go straight for the eyes every once in a while. The other break was taken by my lonesome in a little open hut, the small waves in the sea crashing into the rocks and sand.

A bit later I saw the destruction of the forest fires. In the distance a blackness with a red border seemed to have spread across the seaside hills like a mold will grow over a rock. As I got closer I saw the black was obviously composed of the charred remains of trees and shrubs, the red was the heat-affected and discolored leaves of the trees left standing. The soil was charred, and as I stood peering into the hills I could see nothing living. No birds, no ants, no insects. The sense of destroyed life, hundreds of years of growth gone, will probably stay in my thoughts for a long while. That black colouring, although replaced in my vicinity with green trees again, would be visible in the distance for the next 50 kilometers. I have no idea how far it stretches inland, as I couldn't see beyond the tops of the hills and mountains.

I played leapfrog with another touring cyclist along the way. Him very lightly packed, probably creditcard-touring, so much faster, but his streak of flat tires due to the rocky roads allowing me to pass him a couple of times. We met up again and talked all the way to Alexandropolis, where we quickly said our goodbyes, as I wanted to head out to the Evrou delta to make camp. Beautiful wet grasslands, but cycling right alongside the river I saw the fire's destruction had reached the delta as well.

Finding a place to sleep was a bit harder than expected. One had the choice of camping in the middle of the road, or in wet grassy lands. The former obviously not wise, the latter a bit stupid, as I think these are very delicate biotopes. After a while I spotted a birdwatching tower. The top floor closed, but the second floor was open, so I decided to camp there. I was a bit hesitant at first, but that quickly made place for the appreciation of just throwing my sleeping kit on the wooden planks and falling asleep with the lights of Alexandropolis and its surrounding villages flickering in the atmosphere to the north.

Tomorrow I'll be heading into Turkey. I'm excited to meet the Turkish people, and to be heading further east. My first stop will be Luleborgaz, I've heard from other bicycle tourists that there is a great place to stay there. Afterwards I'll be heading to Istanbul, where I'm very glad to announce that I will be seeing my special friend again.