“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” –Mark Jenkins

Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Day 124 – 5th September, Saturday. South to Patras.

We drove pretty much all day along the coast and then through the hills south over the bridge into Patras. The roads are a bit variable; potholed one minute and newly built the next. But one thing each mile has in common is the constant collection of roadside litter – bottles, cans, plastic and paper, continuous and ugly. Which is a shame, because the country itself is so beautiful.
We arrived at the only campsite we could find under the Patras Bridge in Rio, along with a large group of Dutch caravans … Chaos!, but they jammed us in behind the staff fag-break spot.

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