Saturday, July 5, 2008
A mad dash acroos the Med
After riding nearly 500 miles up the western coast of Morocco in one day to catch the ferry back to spain, my backside was telling me I neaded a rest. So I promptly holed up in Tarifa again for a few days to relax and enjoy the beach, the
sun and the surf and generally calm down after the storm that was Morocco. Being back on european soil made me realise just how well structured and clean and organised we have it in Europe and also how much personal space we give each other. Sure thats not always such a good thing but when youve experienced the stresses and hassles of travelling in Morocco it felt pretty good to have things easily organised and accesible and to be free from people constantly wanted something from you.
I remember when I left Scotland, someone saying to me "Morocco you'll either love it or hate it" and I know what they meant. I can say I felt both ways at differnet times. The rural areas are wonderful and the landscape in the atlas mountains can be breathtakingly beautiful, and I guess like anywhere in the world, here you find the most real people and to me the most beautiful. Berbers in all their colourful clothes, kids selling honey and fruit by the side of the road, helpful smiling folk. But in the towns and the cities, people seemed to turn to tugging your arm, following you around trying to sell you something or their services, few real genuine smiles without a "whats in it for me" and that I found exhausting and frustrating. So one day I'd had enough and rode all the way back to organised, policed, structured Europe. I woman I spoke to before I left for Morocco confirmed what I thought when I returned, she said " 10 days and thats enough for me" and in my book shes right. My feeling is that Morocco is too close to Europe to not be affected by all that seems to glitters over there and its a shame because it stops you really connecting with the people in a meaningful way.So I stayed in Tarifa three or four nights, recharged, cooled down, and got organised for my 800 mile trek up the coast of Spain and across the Mediteranean to Greece. The plan being to catch ferries from Barcelona to Rome and from Bari to Patras and get to Greece and relax for a month or so, grab my Indian Visa in Athens and then head for Turkey and Iran around the middle of august.On the way up I stopped in Granada ( famous for making guitars for all those-795406.jpg)
Musos out there)for a couple of nights because wanted to visit tthe Alhambra Palace, something I'd missed doing the last time I was here because I was broke. So with decisions made I headed up the steep hill to the Alhambra.-735363.jpg)
Its a wondefully beautiful place, part moorish, part spanish from different centuries perched high up on the hill peering solidly over Granada. From a distance it looks incredibly domineering and once inside its a place of timeless wonder and beauty. Its hard to describe really, ornate palace gardens with every kind of bushy tree and shrub, rambling twisty paths and green fish ponds, castle turrets and broken down moorish ruins. Inside the palace theres the most exquisitely intricate mosaic tile work and ceiling carvings, galleries and open courtyards, its very beautiful and too much to put into words really. However, unfortunately for me I found the place saddened and weighed down by tourists, its popularity has made it a place that was once light with energy and beauty into a place thats somehow heavy and burdened. Loaded with bus crowds of burger eating daytrippers dredging along the tick list of sites to see on their 10 day trip the Alhambra has lost its charm, people are sheep herded from one part to the next on time tickets, and theres no freedom in the place, and in a place that eminates lightness and space thats at a real juxtaposition to its true identity. I felt exhausted and perplexed by my experience there, in so much that somehow we've made something so beautiful and spacious into something so ugly and tight by revolving it around tourism and cash generation. To be honest it was a sad day for me as Im one of the tourists although I gave up eating burgers a while back.
On a more postive note, while in Granada I set about redesigning my seat again, trying to somehow eliminate the ass hell Im living in everytime I sit on the bike. So with a 
bit of cunning and guile I designed a foam pad made from 3 layers of camping mat, some contact adhesive and scissors. Sculpted and placed under my sheepskin rug in the butt position this seemd like the ideal solution and setting off from Granada to Barcelona I thought it would be, but oh no,no,no, after riding the 530 miles up the coast I wondered if I'd ever walk again or father any children for that matter, I was living in serious Ass Hell again, wiggling this way, dangling my feet of the bike that way, doing pelvic exercise, it seemed like every area of my backside was crippled and paralysed. So on arriving in Barcelona I finally decided to give in to the financial worries of buying an air seat for the bike. Still havent found one yet but I will, believe you me I will.
A couple of none descript days in Barcelona, the best Spanish city by far, all spacious and airy, has a real free and e-799697.jpg)
asy feel to it. Spent most of the time organising and arranging things and problems although I did see Gaudis masterpiece the Seven Sister, fruits bowls on turrerts and all, bizarreness redifined. Hopped on the ferry to Rome, camped in a wonderful green froggy wood in Italy, cooked rice boiled in Canal water (yuck), -747153.jpg)
argued wholeheartedly in true English "thats just not cricket" style with a booking agent at Bari who charged me an extra 20 euro for my internet prebooked ticket to Patras. "Port tax" she said, "oh yeah" I said, nothing about port tax from any of the other companies here, "oh ok, not port tax, fuel surcharge" Made me realise things are no longer set in sto-718677.jpg)
ne as Im getting further east.
So here I am now, camped up in Athens, waiting till monday to try and get my Indian visa and perhaps extend my Iranian one by a month or so, so I dont hit the rains in Pakistan or the monsoons in India. Its a good feeling to slow down a bit and know that Im close enough to my visa deadlines to not have to worry too much about getting to the border. I love the greek people, I love theyre energy and exuberance, it has a good feel to it and is a welcome relief after many long hours riding on the road.
Last night when I arrived I set about one of my main headaches of finding a new tyre for the rear of my bike, I suspected it would be almost impossible to track down the right one in Iran or Pakistan so I decided to carry a spare. I thought "I'm going to struggle to find a bike shop in Athens and if I do manage to find one I wont be able to get the same tyre" Walked up to the first tyre place I saw 200 meters from the campsite, told the guy what I needed, he sat me down, gave me a Frappe coffee, told me to wait 5 minutes,and low and behold the tyre arrived by courier, the price is agreed, a bit over the odds for sure but, hey ho who cares, i have my exact tyre, with no hassles, I love Athens! So this weekend Im going to relax take it easy and see a few sights, gently gently, oh and try to find a blow up cushion for my seat! Peace love and blessings to everyone. Jonny.
After riding nearly 500 miles up the western coast of Morocco in one day to catch the ferry back to spain, my backside was telling me I neaded a rest. So I promptly holed up in Tarifa again for a few days to relax and enjoy the beach, the sun and the surf and generally calm down after the storm that was Morocco. Being back on european soil made me realise just how well structured and clean and organised we have it in Europe and also how much personal space we give each other. Sure thats not always such a good thing but when youve experienced the stresses and hassles of travelling in Morocco it felt pretty good to have things easily organised and accesible and to be free from people constantly wanted something from you.
I remember when I left Scotland, someone saying to me "Morocco you'll either love it or hate it" and I know what they meant. I can say I felt both ways at differnet times. The rural areas are wonderful and the landscape in the atlas mountains can be breathtakingly beautiful, and I guess like anywhere in the world, here you find the most real people and to me the most beautiful. Berbers in all their colourful clothes, kids selling honey and fruit by the side of the road, helpful smiling folk. But in the towns and the cities, people seemed to turn to tugging your arm, following you around trying to sell you something or their services, few real genuine smiles without a "whats in it for me" and that I found exhausting and frustrating. So one day I'd had enough and rode all the way back to organised, policed, structured Europe. I woman I spoke to before I left for Morocco confirmed what I thought when I returned, she said " 10 days and thats enough for me" and in my book shes right. My feeling is that Morocco is too close to Europe to not be affected by all that seems to glitters over there and its a shame because it stops you really connecting with the people in a meaningful way.
sun and the surf and generally calm down after the storm that was Morocco. Being back on european soil made me realise just how well structured and clean and organised we have it in Europe and also how much personal space we give each other. Sure thats not always such a good thing but when youve experienced the stresses and hassles of travelling in Morocco it felt pretty good to have things easily organised and accesible and to be free from people constantly wanted something from you.I remember when I left Scotland, someone saying to me "Morocco you'll either love it or hate it" and I know what they meant. I can say I felt both ways at differnet times. The rural areas are wonderful and the landscape in the atlas mountains can be breathtakingly beautiful, and I guess like anywhere in the world, here you find the most real people and to me the most beautiful. Berbers in all their colourful clothes, kids selling honey and fruit by the side of the road, helpful smiling folk. But in the towns and the cities, people seemed to turn to tugging your arm, following you around trying to sell you something or their services, few real genuine smiles without a "whats in it for me" and that I found exhausting and frustrating. So one day I'd had enough and rode all the way back to organised, policed, structured Europe. I woman I spoke to before I left for Morocco confirmed what I thought when I returned, she said " 10 days and thats enough for me" and in my book shes right. My feeling is that Morocco is too close to Europe to not be affected by all that seems to glitters over there and its a shame because it stops you really connecting with the people in a meaningful way.
So I stayed in Tarifa three or four nights, recharged, cooled down, and got organised for my 800 mile trek up the coast of Spain and across the Mediteranean to Greece. The plan being to catch ferries from Barcelona to Rome and from Bari to Patras and get to Greece and relax for a month or so, grab my Indian Visa in Athens and then head for Turkey and Iran around the middle of august.On the way up I stopped in Granada ( famous for making guitars for all those Musos out there)for a couple of nights because wanted to visit tthe Alhambra Palace, something I'd missed doing the last time I was here because I was broke. So with decisions made I headed up the steep hill to the Alhambra. Its a wondefully beautiful place, part moorish, part spanish from different centuries perched high up on the hill peering solidly over Granada. From a distance it looks incredibly domineering and once inside its a place of timeless wonder and beauty. Its hard to describe really, ornate palace gardens with every kind of bushy tree and shrub, rambling twisty paths and green fish ponds, castle turrets and broken down moorish ruins. Inside the palace theres the most exquisitely intricate mosaic tile work and ceiling carvings, galleries and open courtyards, its very beautiful and too much to put into words really. However, unfortunately for me I found the place saddened and weighed down by tourists, its popularity has made it a place that was once light with energy and beauty into a place thats somehow heavy and burdened. Loaded with bus crowds of burger eating daytrippers dredging along the tick list of sites to see on their 10 day trip the Alhambra has lost its charm, people are sheep herded from one part to the next on time tickets, and theres no freedom in the place, and in a place that eminates lightness and space thats at a real juxtaposition to its true identity. I felt exhausted and perplexed by my experience there, in so much that somehow we've made something so beautiful and spacious into something so ugly and tight by revolving it around tourism and cash generation. To be honest it was a sad day for me as Im one of the tourists although I gave up eating burgers a while back.
On a more postive note, while in Granada I set about redesigning my seat again, trying to somehow eliminate the ass hell Im living in everytime I sit on the bike. So with abit of cunning and guile I designed a foam pad made from 3 layers of camping mat, some contact adhesive and scissors. Sculpted and placed under my sheepskin rug in the butt position this seemd like the ideal solution and setting off from Granada to Barcelona I thought it would be, but oh no,no,no, after riding the 530 miles up the coast I wondered if I'd ever walk again or father any children for that matter, I was living in serious Ass Hell again, wiggling this way, dangling my feet of the bike that way, doing pelvic exercise, it seemed like every area of my backside was crippled and paralysed. So on arriving in Barcelona I finally decided to give in to the financial worries of buying an air seat for the bike. Still havent found one yet but I will, believe you me I will.
A couple of none descript days in Barcelona, the best Spanish city by far, all spacious and airy, has a real free and easy feel to it. Spent most of the time organising and arranging things and problems although I did see Gaudis masterpiece the Seven Sister, fruits bowls on turrerts and all, bizarreness redifined. Hopped on the ferry to Rome, camped in a wonderful green froggy wood in Italy, cooked rice boiled in Canal water (yuck), argued wholeheartedly in true English "thats just not cricket" style with a booking agent at Bari who charged me an extra 20 euro for my internet prebooked ticket to Patras. "Port tax" she said, "oh yeah" I said, nothing about port tax from any of the other companies here, "oh ok, not port tax, fuel surcharge" Made me realise things are no longer set in stone as Im getting further east.
So here I am now, camped up in Athens, waiting till monday to try and get my Indian visa and perhaps extend my Iranian one by a month or so, so I dont hit the rains in Pakistan or the monsoons in India. Its a good feeling to slow down a bit and know that Im close enough to my visa deadlines to not have to worry too much about getting to the border. I love the greek people, I love theyre energy and exuberance, it has a good feel to it and is a welcome relief after many long hours riding on the road.
Last night when I arrived I set about one of my main headaches of finding a new tyre for the rear of my bike, I suspected it would be almost impossible to track down the right one in Iran or Pakistan so I decided to carry a spare. I thought "I'm going to struggle to find a bike shop in Athens and if I do manage to find one I wont be able to get the same tyre" Walked up to the first tyre place I saw 200 meters from the campsite, told the guy what I needed, he sat me down, gave me a Frappe coffee, told me to wait 5 minutes,and low and behold the tyre arrived by courier, the price is agreed, a bit over the odds for sure but, hey ho who cares, i have my exact tyre, with no hassles, I love Athens! So this weekend Im going to relax take it easy and see a few sights, gently gently, oh and try to find a blow up cushion for my seat! Peace love and blessings to everyone. Jonny.
-795800.jpg)
Musos out there)for a couple of nights because wanted to visit tthe Alhambra Palace, something I'd missed doing the last time I was here because I was broke. So with decisions made I headed up the steep hill to the Alhambra.-736134.jpg)
Its a wondefully beautiful place, part moorish, part spanish from different centuries perched high up on the hill peering solidly over Granada. From a distance it looks incredibly domineering and once inside its a place of timeless wonder and beauty. Its hard to describe really, ornate palace gardens with every kind of bushy tree and shrub, rambling twisty paths and green fish ponds, castle turrets and broken down moorish ruins. Inside the palace theres the most exquisitely intricate mosaic tile work and ceiling carvings, galleries and open courtyards, its very beautiful and too much to put into words really. However, unfortunately for me I found the place saddened and weighed down by tourists, its popularity has made it a place that was once light with energy and beauty into a place thats somehow heavy and burdened. Loaded with bus crowds of burger eating daytrippers dredging along the tick list of sites to see on their 10 day trip the Alhambra has lost its charm, people are sheep herded from one part to the next on time tickets, and theres no freedom in the place, and in a place that eminates lightness and space thats at a real juxtaposition to its true identity. I felt exhausted and perplexed by my experience there, in so much that somehow we've made something so beautiful and spacious into something so ugly and tight by revolving it around tourism and cash generation. To be honest it was a sad day for me as Im one of the tourists although I gave up eating burgers a while back.-735083.jpg){kind=link}
On a more postive note, while in Granada I set about redesigning my seat again, trying to somehow eliminate the ass hell Im living in everytime I sit on the bike. So with a
bit of cunning and guile I designed a foam pad made from 3 layers of camping mat, some contact adhesive and scissors. Sculpted and placed under my sheepskin rug in the butt position this seemd like the ideal solution and setting off from Granada to Barcelona I thought it would be, but oh no,no,no, after riding the 530 miles up the coast I wondered if I'd ever walk again or father any children for that matter, I was living in serious Ass Hell again, wiggling this way, dangling my feet of the bike that way, doing pelvic exercise, it seemed like every area of my backside was crippled and paralysed. So on arriving in Barcelona I finally decided to give in to the financial worries of buying an air seat for the bike. Still havent found one yet but I will, believe you me I will.A couple of none descript days in Barcelona, the best Spanish city by far, all spacious and airy, has a real free and e
-700338.jpg)
asy feel to it. Spent most of the time organising and arranging things and problems although I did see Gaudis masterpiece the Seven Sister, fruits bowls on turrerts and all, bizarreness redifined. Hopped on the ferry to Rome, camped in a wonderful green froggy wood in Italy, cooked rice boiled in Canal water (yuck), -733159.jpg){kind=link}
-747646.jpg)
argued wholeheartedly in true English "thats just not cricket" style with a booking agent at Bari who charged me an extra 20 euro for my internet prebooked ticket to Patras. "Port tax" she said, "oh yeah" I said, nothing about port tax from any of the other companies here, "oh ok, not port tax, fuel surcharge" Made me realise things are no longer set in sto-719192.jpg)
ne as Im getting further east.So here I am now, camped up in Athens, waiting till monday to try and get my Indian visa and perhaps extend my Iranian one by a month or so, so I dont hit the rains in Pakistan or the monsoons in India. Its a good feeling to slow down a bit and know that Im close enough to my visa deadlines to not have to worry too much about getting to the border. I love the greek people, I love theyre energy and exuberance, it has a good feel to it and is a welcome relief after many long hours riding on the road.
Last night when I arrived I set about one of my main headaches of finding a new tyre for the rear of my bike, I suspected it would be almost impossible to track down the right one in Iran or Pakistan so I decided to carry a spare. I thought "I'm going to struggle to find a bike shop in Athens and if I do manage to find one I wont be able to get the same tyre" Walked up to the first tyre place I saw 200 meters from the campsite, told the guy what I needed, he sat me down, gave me a Frappe coffee, told me to wait 5 minutes,and low and behold the tyre arrived by courier, the price is agreed, a bit over the odds for sure but, hey ho who cares, i have my exact tyre, with no hassles, I love Athens! So this weekend Im going to relax take it easy and see a few sights, gently gently, oh and try to find a blow up cushion for my seat! Peace love and blessings to everyone. Jonny.
★ 0 Comments. | Jonny, Saturday, July 5, 2008 8:51 AM
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