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Click here for the Introduction.Ancient Corinth. Photo credit: Wikipedia |
40
miles - Sunday, October 30
Cloudy
skies. Met a couple teachers from Holland who helped us with camping
information and interesting places to see in northern Greece and
western Turkey. The traveler's grapevine is always worthwhile, a
source of continual contemplation as we ride 4 kilometers uphill to
Ancient Corinth.
We
lock bikes at the site's entrance, and discover Sundays are free
admission – a nice treat – and something to keep in mind as we
venture further in Greece. Andy and I walk carefully over the old
stones – to twist an ankle requiring complications we didn't want
to think about – exploring an ancient marketplace, restored by
archeologists. We tag along on an English speaking tour. The road
underfoot once extended a few kilometers to the sea; it was a
commercial hub in classical times; population 400-500,000;
underground river providing necessary water which also flushed out
communal latrines; Romans trashed the place during occupation. With
the hilltop ruins spread before us, dry, scrubby trees, and acres of
toppled stones, I could easily imagine a once bustling city with
expansive views of crowded harbor, and barefoot slaves lugging
supplies on rugged, stony roads.
Intricate, beautiful Dionysus (goddess of wine) mosaic in on-site museum. |
Finished
with Ancient Corinth, we straddle our bikes, still undecided where to
go next. On the spot Andy and I decide to head south, swing through
another region with ruins, and hopefully catch a ferry towards
Athens.
Andy is amused by namesake tour bus -- a different mode of travel. |
The
next several kilometers are on a delightful country road to Argos.
Exposed rock caps nearby hills. Valleys are irrigated for orange and
lemon groves with olive trees taking up the remainder, edging
roadsides. It's cozy and quiet. The overcast sky grows darker.
It
starts sprinkling as we head toward hopeful camping in Nafplio. This
city was the capital of Greece in early 1800s for a while after they
gained independence. A large fortification overlooks buildings and
harbor. Nearest “maybe” campground is 10-12 kilometers further,
but by luck we stumble on a guy from Ottawa, Canada looking for a
hostel. It sounded good to us and with more investigating discover
the place is closed until spring. A woman from an economy hotel across the street approaches, offers 2,000 drachmas per person (9.00 USD) and we accept
her accommodation – threatening skies and late arrival convinced us
it's our manger for the evening.
We
stay inside, eat cereal for dinner (tomorrows breakfast, stores are
closed). Earlier, Andy had talked with an adjoining proprietor, who
shared space on hotel's first floor and also started the hostel 26
years ago. He thought we'd want to know about a person firing several
rounds into the White House, but was later caught. It's funny how news of home trickles down to us. Even with occasionally reading the Herald Tribune, after months on the road I feel far removed from current events.
We
swap stories with the Canadian, John, on archeological sites to visit
with all of us yawning and eventually calling it a night at 10 p.m.
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