Three months around Europe

I liked Bulgaria when I rode there on my pushbike last year.
The people don't take themselves too seriously, make great salads, invented Yoghurt and did USSR's assassinations during the Cold War.

I headed for Ruse, just over the border and the River Danube from Romania and stayed in the English Guest House, same place as last year. They seem to collect an eclectic range of guests and the self styled Entertainments Manager , a Londoner called Carl took charge of me. He was running a promotions company here and seemed to be doing all right. He had a Filipino fiance and was big on conspiracy theories.

Over a beer he told me that 9/11, the London tube bombings, Mcdonalds super sizing were all part of a plan for right wingers to rule the world. I said I thought they did anyway.

He asked if I had any conspiracy theories? Well I did think it suspicious that Don Brash resigned as the leader of the National Party the same day as Yellow Wiggle left the group and that the most popular crisp flavour in Korea was dog and vinegar. He thought that interesting .

I rode to Bulgaria's second city, Plovdiv the next day and to get to it I had to go through a town named Crapa. I spent the afternoon wondering about how they would brand it: Crapa – the name says it all - is one possibility. I could not find a tee shirt with “ I am big on Crapa “ despite an extensive search.
Then I contemplated if it was right wingers who gave the towns these names just to belittle them. Carl would be proud of me.
It is a nice ride from Ruse to Plovdiv, through some low mountain passes and gorges. But it was the hottest day of the trip, the temperature nudging 42C and I had frequent water stops.

In order to beat the heat, I left Plovdiv the next day before 7am and had a wonderful ride through the mountains that mark the Greek/Bulgarian border. I was now feeling 100% , the bike was happy with the road surface and there was little traffic. A ride I would recommend.

On my entrance to Greece, I had the sudden thought that I could not think of any famous living Greek person. Then the name Demos Roussos popped into my head. He was nicknamed the Singing Whale though in later years he slimmed down considerably to become the former singing whale. Demos was in the news a few years ago when he was a passenger on a plane hijacked by Libyans and held at Athens airport. After some negotiation , the hijackers freed the passengers and flew off to asylum in Libya. However, before they left , Demos sang to them them causing one observer to remark that the hijackers did not go entirely unpunished.

My plan was now to travel down the Aegean Highway, catch a ferry to Crete and visit some battlefields where NZ Forces played a major role.

But disaster struck, somewhere on the road to Athens I lost my bag containing all my documents, passports, credit card, money and vehicle rego. Because of forest fires , we were diverted off the highway onto back roads and it was here that my bag somehow flew out of my rear pannier. There was no point in going back as I had traveled 180km over obscure roads I would never find again.
The next morning was spent on the phone to the British Embassy and completing Forms 7b/82e/47f at the local police station. The police could not be more helpful. Thank you Officer Acropolis Restaurantopopolos. The Police gave me a letter detailing my loss and the British Embassy said they would issue me some travel documents at the vice consulate in Crete. I notified my bank and put the loss down to a conspiracy against Kiwi Pensioners.

The Aegean Highway follows the coastline for around 500km. It is tolled but the day I rode it , taxi drivers had commandeered the booths and were letting everyone through gratis. Greece is in the midst of an economic meltdown and there are half finished infrastructure and building projects lying idle everywhere. There were big signs thanking the EU for the finance for building the highway and saying, by the way, you have no chance of being paid back!
I caught the ferry from Pireaus to Crete and after finding a spot out of the wind – Greeks eat a lot of chickpeas – I spent the night sleeping peacefully on the deck. I arrived at the consulate first thing to sort out the paperwork for my trip back to UK. The consul seemed more worried about it than me.

I told the consul, the worst thing that could happen to me was being detained and as long as did not have to share a cell with a lady boy or Demos Roussos I would be OK.

I am now on a watch list for nutters entering the UK.

Till next time

Safe riding