Catania to Athens | Day 4

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Ionic Islands to Patras

Next morning we had plenty of time after sunrise to admire the Greek coastline and Ionian islands from the passenger decks.

What we saw was a whole different world. Well versed as we were in Italian exuberance, the lonely, outwardly inhabited islands provided first clues to Greek poise and restraint.

Taking a ferry to travel between these two cultures seemed somehow appropriate. Seafaring is how it was done for millennia.

We sailed into Patras at 1pm. The day was intensely sunny with dark, heavy clouds suggesting a snowstorm was brewing up high in the mountains above the city. Min, our artist in permanent residence, immediately noticed the change in light and color palette. The sun was higher, the blues were deeper, more intense.

Patras to Athens

Eager to reach our final destination we did Patras even less justice than Bari. With the clouds darkening over the mountain, we pulled into one of the many gas stations lining the exit road from the ferry and fed the beasts enough liquid hay to last till Athens.

The top tier, multilane Greek autobahn proved quite a surprise. I used the word autobahn intentionally here — the road is of the highest quality, both surface and width. A German engineer would nod in approval. Luxury stress-free travel.

I suppose this should be obvious to anyone looking at E65/8 on the map, but the road from Patras to Corinth offers spectacular views of the Gulf of Corinth. Combined with high standard rest areas along the way this was a very civilized riding experience indeed. Coming directly from Italy this came in stark contrast to the last 50km of highway to Bari where the lanes were as narrow as the pace was frantic.

The autobahn gave us very high hopes for Athens which, according to our custom, we restrained from over researching. Alas, everything changed once we passed Corinth.

Corinth itself is notable for at least two reasons — it was an important city-state of the ancient Greek civilization AND it’s the home of the Corinth Canal, the man made Greek Suez built in the late 1800s connecting two seas — the Ionian and the Aegean. I was hoping for a nice pitstop somewhere along the canal, but while Min saw it on full display and set back in her seat astounded I managed to miss the entire thing altogether. The canal is extremely narrow. I was probably looking at the map, about the only excuse I can think of.

We paused for a minute to discuss whether we should find a place to rest or continue, but with the clouds gaining up on us from the west we decided to just head for the capital. It was our 4th day on the road, we were antsy and eager to shed all the weight.

All toll booth attendants spoke English. Seems like the second official language at times.

The final stretch between Corinth and Athens starts out quite nicely as a beautiful coastal highway overlooking the Aegean to the south and ends up in… anywhere-large-urban-sprawl Mexico. Yes, Athens as entered from the west is a close cousin to the suburbs of Guadalajara. We really enjoyed our one month stay in Colonia Americana in Mexico’s 2nd city four years ago, but neither of the two suburbs, not the Jaliscan nor the Attican are very easy on the eye. The traffic patterns, too, bear a close resemblance. Two faces of chaos, a word that’s Greek in origin. Incidentally.

Acropolis. Petralona, our neighborhood, is on the opposite side of the hill.

We arrived at our final destination around Metro Petralona across the park from Acropolis around 5pm. We had been fighting heavy commuter traffic for close to an hour by that point and were eager to put the horses in the stables.

The first part went smoothly. Well, relatively. Our Airbnb had no street number and no apartment number, but find it we did. Off the bikes went all the luggage.

Considerably lighter, we now had to find the stables. This took a while.

In researching the optimal Athens location for our 18 day stay I prioritized authentic neighborhoods and walking distance to major sights and urban delights. Well, it turned out that staying clear of other tourists (i.e. authentic) also means no clients for secure garages. But we definitely wanted one. Athens is an endless metropolis complete with all the trappings of one.

After an hour and a half of driving around between closed or otherwise Google misidentified parking lots a kind soul — many of those in Greece — finally told us that there are none to be found in the area. Before I had the time to visualize a 36min daily enduro boot walk to and from an Acropolis garage, he suggested a better one. “Follow this road. One light, another light then turn left,” he said. “About a kilometer away”.

This sounded so easy I was certain we’d get lost. It was exactly where he said it would be.

A block away from our parking garage.

The owner was very personable and spoke excellent English, but seemed a bit low on motorcycle spots at first so he gave us a couple temporary ones at the very bottom of the parking spiral. This suited us fine for the entire stay. Min, the family negotiator, sealed the deal.

The enduro boot walk back home was 12 minutes long. About the same as in Palermo.

And thus we reached Athens, our 5th base.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3