“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 125 – 6th September, Sunday. Rio, near Patras.

We were woken at 3am by the nightclub next door which continued until 7am playing an endless medley of scream-a-long classics such as ‘I’m So Excited’ and ‘It’s Raining Men’. Very tired, and itchy, I got up and discovered I had been bitten on both eyelids during the night; my left eye was swollen to the point of not opening and my right eye was more of a boxing-style eyebrow swell. I’m not excited, It’s not raining men, but I know I will survive.
The Dutch all got up and left. We decided to rest up a while and leave in the morning. I found a local shop that sold a map of the area complete with a CD of campsites. Unfortunately the CD is un-installable on my laptop as all in Greek, and although the map has some town names written in both English and Greek (pity the road signs don’t), the campsites are not marked on the map. Instead, they are listed in an accompanying leaflet. So I then spent an hour or so, squinting through my better eye, deciphering the Greek names and cross referencing them on Autoroute software on the laptop to find where they are on the map. Typically, when I had finished, of the thirty on the list only four are between us and Athens. Grrr.

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