sunrise, sunset

10: 59 9 August, Athens

Okay, now that I'm not rocking on the high seas of the Aegean, I feel up to finishing the post I tried to write earlier. Picking up from where I left off the evening after my scooter tour of the island, I did end up catching the sunset, and it was decent, though the sun was obscured behind some clouds on the horizon before actually touching down into the sea. I drove around for a little bit before heading back to the campsite where I ran into some Australians, staying up chatting with them until the late evening. Before going to bed, I set my alarm to 5:55, in order to squeeze in a morning drive along the coast.

The next morning, I was up and at 'em before my alarm went off, and by 6:15 I was on empty roads of Paros. I passed by a few groups of my peers, staggering back from their all-night partying. Compared to my own condition, I did not envy them their circumstance. I cruised along for a while, distancing myself from the coast by following the main road around to the eastern edge of the island. Finding an east-bound access road into a farming village, I motored along until I came to a stately Greek manor house and farm, that had a restaurant attached to the estate. Not a soul stirred in the predawn hours, and so I slowly made my way down a farm road on my scooter until, coming upon a vehicular impasse, I dismounted and continued to walk down the arid farmscape.

The sounds of roosters crowing and the whispering wind were the only sounds that disturbed the Mediterranean farmscape, and as I sat on a stone wall looking out to the sea it was a good chance to reflect on my stay on Paros. Before long, the horizon lightened and the sun freed itself from its terrestial bondage and climbed into the sky. The glow of the rising sun was caught in a sea of grain, glimmering as gold as it swayed in the breeze.

Sunrise.

As the familiar blue took hold in the sky, I walked back to my scooter, and made my way back to the main road. Passing a few early morning motorists, I returned to my campsite where I picked up some breakfast supplies. Packing them in my scooter, I made for a rocky outcropping by the coast that I had passed yesterday. Parking my scooter, grabbing my breakfast, and climbing up into the martian landscape, I ate atop a massive boulder, looking out to the sea. I was soon joined in the outcropping my the sounds of cowbells and inquisitive bleating. A herd of goats were making their way through the rocks, foraging for whatever edible grasses had taken hold in the limited soil.

Almost enough to make me feel homesick.

Resting just long enough to take in the landscape, I returned to my scooter for a final ride along the coast. I returned my rental at 9:30 and walked back to the campsite feeling the satisfaction that comes from accomplishing a great deal hours before most of my fellow campers would be stirring from their sleeping bags.

Packing up my things at the campsite, and chatting with the same Australians who's company I had made the night before, I caught the 13:00 shuttle into the port town, hoping that I might be able to change my ticket for an earlier departure. This was not born of an anxiety to leave Paros, but rather an interest in getting to Athens before my currently scheduled landing at 0:30. Unfortunately, the tickets could not be changed, and I looked forward to a rather expensive cab ride from the port town servicing Athens to the city center.

Windmills were scattered around the main port town.

Unperturbed, I settled down to a slow gyro and tzatziki lunch - I had after all six hours to kill before my ferry arrived - before wandering around the town. The six hours I had in town were split between exploring alleyways and reading my book. I managed to finish the book - The Guns of August - just 30 minutes before the ferry was to arrive, and while finishing a book back home usually leaves me with a sense of satisfaction, I had become so accustomed to this English language diversion that I felt a bit of remorse as I slowly read the epilogue.

The sunset, as seen from the ferry.

The ferry ride was unremarkable. While it was, as suggested in my previous post, a nicer vessel than the first, I spent most of my journey in a state of semi-consciousness. Any attempt at procuring actual sleep was sabotaged by the playful screams of children running up and down the aisles, and the obnoxiously repetitive sounds that invariably result from acoustic guitar-toting Born-Again Christians. When calls finally came to disembark, I hurriedly collected my things, and followed a train of passengers making their way toward... an exit? Well, not quite. In fact, I was trapped at the bottom of the unventilated garage-access staircase. This ended up not being so bad, because I ran into two Kiwi girls, representatives of a larger group of five. I don't know why I thought to anticipate this, perhaps I've just become dangerously accustomed to things working out for me, but when I asked where they were planning on staying, I was hardly surprised to find that with all the options available to them in Athens, they were heading for my hostel. So with this bit of luck, I was able to split a cab ride (which would have cost 30 - 40 euros) with my new acquaintances, which ended up only costing 10 euro a person.

Getting to the hostel, I attempted a call home, then crashed. Today, I'll be making my way to the bus station with the intention of catching the 14:00 bus to Litochoro. For now, I need to repack the few things I took out from my bag, and figure out how to get to the bus station. If all goes well, I'll be cruising through Northern Greece within four hours.

20:26 8 August, Blue Star Naxous Ferry

As I write this, I'm steaming toward Athens on a ferry that is quite a bit nicer than the one that brought me to Paros. While slower, adding a half hour to the four hour journey, the the passenger quarters are more spacious and private, and the the public areas are more impressive. I actually think I'm going to cut myself off there, because whether because of high seas, or unsteady seamanship, we seem to be bobbing to a degree that does not quite agree with me. Maybe I'll try to watch Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb... in Greek.

18:11 7 August, Camping Naoussa

My last full day (as tomorrow I leave at 19:45) in Paros was quite spectacular. After staying up last night learning how to play Backgammon with some South Africans, I woke up reasonably early, ate breakfast, and made my way to the car rental agency. Not being 25, I'm unable to rent a car, though I wouldn't have wanted to anyway. My sights were set on a vehicle of lower horsepower, but more enjoyment: a motor scooter. For 20 euro, plus the cost of gas (to fill the tank cost 5 euro, 1.10 euro a liter, which seems like a pretty good deal until you realize that it works out to roughly $7.50 a gallon) I had my own set of wheels. After a sputter, a bobble, and a jolt, the motor scooter and I became as one: man and machine, a single entity of limitless potential. Having reached this state of harmonious union, I promptly punched the gas (read: turned the left handle with great vigor) and I was off.

The only image I captured of my scooter was during a stop down a farming road.

I had a few supplies, a map from the early 80's, and no clear direction of where I was going (which is how a rather notable trip to Canada began). Unlike the aforementioned trip north however, I was on a island with rather limited boundaries. Therefore I decided it would probably be best to see if I could circumnavigate Paros by way of the main circular "highway" (a term I depreciate because at times the "highway" was a tight one-lane road through quaint coastal hamlets). The ride and the scenery was fantastic. I would estimate that the entire circuit was roughly 60 kilometers, which puts it squarely within the realm of "bikeable", however the heat would render such a cycling endeavor exhausting. Riding a motor scooter - especially bear foot - was doubtless the best way to see the periphery of the island in all its glory without breaking a sweat (except during tight passes with anxious drivers speeding past.)

Site from along the road.

Feeling that I was missing out on some of the more authentic parts of the island, I decided at one point to veer off the main road and onto a side road leading down to the coast. Thus began the only really dumb thing I've done today. The road quickly devolved into a jumble of rocks, and when I finally decided to turn around, I stomped my uncovered feet across a mass of tiny thistles which embedded themselves in any exposed skin. Efforts to remove said microthistles with my hands simply led to the tiny barbs being transferred and reinstalled. So wincing from the pricks of a hundred miniature spears, I pushed my scooter back to a reasonable road surface and carried on.

A road into the interior.

Taking advantage of the first available location to safely pull over and extricate the most painful of the embedded thorns, I accidentally arrived at one of the tourist hot spots of Paros: the Golden Beach. Walking through the sand was a surprisingly good may of exfoliating the prickers from my feet, and I decided to settle down at the beach side cafe to rest and refresh myself. With palm frond umbrella-shaded beach chairs, serviced by cocktail-toting island girls, this was without a doubt the most vacationer-feeling location I've been to in my travels. I shelled out 4 euro for a sparkling water, and then spent the better part of an hour and a half reading and relaxing by the ocean.

As you can see, it was especially cloudy that day.

Remounting my trusting saffron steed, I continued my circumnavigation, stopping only to capture the occasional panorama. Having started my journey at around 10:00, I was speeding past the rental agency before 14:00. I continued past my place of lodging, following an as-of-yet unexplored coastal road. It was a very picturesque drive, supplemented by a diversion down an old farm road where I passed vinyards swollen with grapes.

But for my own witness, I would have trouble believing that something so sweet and juicy could come from such an arid landscape.

I settled down to a popular seaside restaurant for a relaxing late lunch before motoring back into town where I explored the harbor before returning to my campground. This evening I plan on finding a way to use the remaining quarter tank of gass I have remaining, probably a sunset ride along the coast, before returning to the campsite to see if I can make the aquaintances of any English-speakers.

P.S., Yes mom, I'm wearing a helmet.