Hello Again Readers! Some of you have been wondering what we have been up to. Thank you for your concern, but I am happy to report that all is well. I will admit to being slack. I will put some photos up soon, but here is the continuing story. We crossed into Greece near Alexandropouli, named after guess who, quite uneventfully. The Greeks wanted to see the Carnet but didn't stamp it, & also asked for the International Drivers Licence (for the first time) & Green Card for insurance. That was it, we filled up & we were gone. After about 30 minutes on the motorway we were passed by two guys on sports bikes, doing about 180-200kph, one wearing shorts showing about 2 inches of bum crack. This is different, we thought. We had hardly seen any other big bikes since Singapore, and not much bum crack either, fortunately.
That was about to change. From Alexandropouli, down to Larisa, then to Athens, there were bikes everywhere. Unlike Australia, the preference seems to be for big twins like the Suzuki V-Strom, Honda Varadero, Africa Twin & Transalp, Yamaha TD900, and lots of the supermotard type of bike. Oh yes, & lots of KTM's & Ducatis. Every time the lights change, it is race time!
The ride down to Athens was routine, but quite scenic along sections of the coast, and every so often some nice fast bendy sections to switch the brain back on. But I must remember to watch the left hand mirror, some of the traffic just screams past out of nowhere. Athens itself is huge, & quite hard to navigate. We got lost for about an hour, trying to find our hotel. An Aussie guy from Melbourne (where else?) stopped to chat when he saw the Aussie numberplates, & helped us out.
Greece is ultra touristy, espacially the islands. So the plan was always to go down to the south of Greece, the Peloponese, and look for small fishing villages to stay in, to avoid the crowds. We moved down to Nafplio, which I had never heard of, but it was actually the first capital of a united Greece, and a very interesting place. Very popular with Greeks as a holiday destination. A great castle on top of a hill overlooking the town & coastline, plus all the usual waterfront cafes & bars, but without the rip off tourist prices. From there we headed for Kalamata. We found some interesting roads through the mountains. Consider 180 degree hairpin bends, one after another, with a steep gradient thrown in for good measure. This was a first for me, as there are not too many first gear corners near Adelaide!! We didn't particularly like Kalamata, it was a bit industrial, and the esplanade was a constant torrent of super motard engines screaming in the bottom gears. So we headed for Pylos, which was far better & quieter. I must be getting old!! Anyway, there were bushfires somewhere on the peninsula, and from the waterfront we were able to watch the tanker planes reloading with seawater to dump on the fires. From there up to Kilini, and then on to Patra, where we caught the overnight ferry to Brindisi, Italy.
We had arranged to stay with Gill & Mike, friends of Chris's from England, who have a holiday house at nearby Ostuni. This turned into a very enjoyable if hectic week. We were able to do a lot of riding to nearby towns, often stopping for a meal, some sightseeing, swimming, or just for coffee. We ate too much & we drank too much. Tough work, but it had to be done! We loved Ostuni, and appreciated the hospitality of our very generous hosts. When it was time to leave, we headed for Switzerland to visit Ivo & Jacqueline, who had just finished their 3 year round the world odyssey. This was a long way from the south of Italy, so we headed for the motorway, & resigned ourselves to some long & possibly boring stretches on the bikes. The monotony was regularly interrupted by some very expensive hardware boring past in the fast lane. The most memorable was a black Lambourghini which merged from a side lane. Chris opened up just enough throttle to goad the driver, & so he floored it & virtually disappeared! I must admit to never hearing an exhaust note quite like it (jets excluded), it rattled my eyeballs. We also noted some Ferraris, and plenty of German machinery as well. The motorways are good, but they are expensive- in two days we forked over about $60 in fees, and petrol sells for about $2.50 per litre. It was interesting to see the countryside gradually change from the rocky and dry south, with its white houses & olive trees to the fertile pasture land in the centre, through to the more industrial areas in the north (not that we saw the real industrial centres).
We had overnight stops in Ancona & Bergamo, both lovely towns with splendid architecture, before reaching the Lake Como area. The scenery here was quite spectacular, and its really is a beautiful part of the world-with prices to match. But we didn't hang around & we crossed into Switzerland, after spending €30 on a Swiss motorway pass which nobody even looked at. We headed into the mountains aiming for the San Bernadino Pass, but missed it & ended up in the alternative tunnel instead. Never mind, it was still a great ride. One thing about Italian & Swiss tunnels is the weird feeling I get, its like you are actually inside some bizzare video game! Many of the tunnels have curves and a lot have two way traffic, so to have a truck coming at you while negotiating a bend inside dark noisy tunnel with all kinds of flashing lights whizzing past is a new experience for me, and one I did not get completely used to.
Swizerland is a wonderfully clean and ordered place which, as well as having great scenery, really appeals to me. It was a very pleasant ride through to Winterthur, where we caught up with Ivo & Jacqueline, friends I had not seen for two years since they departed SA to continue their marathon round the world trip on their R80GS. We had lots of notes to compare, and it was great to be able to reminisce over the highs & lows of India, Pakistan & Iran. We were even able to conclude that we actually stayed in the same room as they did in the Fleapit Arms Hotel in Dalbandin! (well, there's not a lot of choice). We were able to get out for a ride in the area around Winterthur, and went up to the Rhine Falls & Lake Constanz. This involved a brief entry into Germany, where a couple of bored border guards on a backroad looked at Ivo's Swiss numberplate, asked if we were all together, and then waved us through, only to see the strange Aussie numberplates disappearing rapidly. No passports or carnets required there! And Ivo is a hard man keep up with on his home turf, he kept leaving us way behind. It was most unfortunate that we could not stay longer in Winterthur, but time was tight & we had to push on to the UK.
That meant France, so we headed off to the west on the motorways, going to Basle, and crossing into France in the Alsace region of the north east. Again, another teriffic cultural & scenic experience, with vineyards everywhere. We stopped for lunch at a cafe in the hills, and noticed a nearby intersection with bikes coming & going in all directions- this was obviously prime bike territory. We were not disappointed on the run down to St Die des Vognes, where we stayed the night. Next day we headed for Riems, home to a wonderful cathederal which we had a look at, then headed to Calais. I had not been to the north/east of France before, and it was interesting to note all the road signs carrying familiar names of the World War 1 battlefields, & to see all the memorials and cemeteries. Once again, it was hard to reconcile the beautiful rural landscapes before us with those familiar WW1 images of total devastation in this part of the country.
We chose to use the Channel Tunnel for the crossing to England. Ride the bikes straight into the train carriage in Calais, and ride them out at Folkestone 35 minutes later. It could not have been easier. However, this is England, and dark clouds loomed above! It started to rain shortly after we got onto the motorway. And the M25 is not known as the world's biggest car park for nothing. Traffic was backed up for miles. We were either splitting lanes or wondering what was up ahead in the spray. We arrived at our final destination, Chris's mum's place in Solihull, just near Birmingham, cold and very wet. I am sure that his 4 hour ordeal was God's way of telling us that you cannot expect to ride halfway round the world on a motorcycle & not get wet, even if it is the last days of a 5 month, 18,500 km journey.
That's just about it from me, but I will put up some more photos, and anything else of interest in the next week or two. Thanks for following the story, it has been a great experience for me, and also great to know that friends were concerned for our welfare, especially during the tough times. I also hope that fellow bikers found the whole thing interesting. And a big thank you to those of you who took the trouble to post a comment, I really appreciate it.
Would I do it again? Too right I would! Could I do it again? Hmmmm!
Back in Adelaide soon.
Dust storm, Rajasthan, India 
Karakoram Highway, Pakistan
Part of the old Silk Road, Karakoram Highway
Police checkpoint, between Islamabad & Mianwali, Pakistan. Smiles all round!
The road to Lorelai, Pakistan. Behind the truck another is bogged in a creek. We got through ok, but had to wear some mud.
Lorelai Police compound, see what I mean.
The highway east of Lorelai, dry but soft in places.
The main street of Dalbandin, western Pakistan, from the VIP room of our hotel.
Sand drift over the road, between Dalbandin & Taftan, Pakistan.
Police escort, between Zahedan & Bam, eastern Iran
Roadside stops, Iran
Roadside mosque, Iran
