After my brief time in Macedonia, I crossed over and rolled into northern Greece (also known as Macedonia.. confusingly enough). Riding through orchards and farmland, snacking covertly on apples and plums when no one was watching, I made a beeline for Thessaloniki, my first big city in quite a while. Taking a short break here and joining a couple of free city tours, I was well impressed at the vast historical influence this city has had since before even the time of Alexander the Great (his sister’s name was Thessalonike, giving us not just this fantastic city, but also that famous brand of shoes..).
Riding south I spent a few days camping by the beaches and riding through thunderstorms, long days on the bike alternating between wet and soggy and hot and humid, followed by a dip in the ocean as the sun set over the ocean and I crawled into my tent, sharing the nighttime with my mosquito neighbours. After a couple of weeks in the Balkan counties to the north, Greek cuisine was a beautiful treat to my senses. So much cheese, fried cheese, fresh cheese, cheese with honey, cheese with nuts, chicken stuffer with cheese, and beers on the beach… I was happy.
One afternoon riding along the coastline I caught up with a flag waving Swede, his bike heavily loaded in preparation for the long journey east to Thailand. Freddy started about the same time as me, riding south from Sweden and had intentions to continue on past Istanbul, all the way across Asia. Although it may have just dawned on him that a winter of wild camping in Uzbekistan may not be the best idea. In either case we camped out a few nights together as we pedalled our way east across northern Greece, sharing stories and beers and picking more even unripe fruit from the orchards we passed on the road.
