Wilder than Expected

They come out of nowhere, at around shoulder height, from the verge on my left just as I pass. Snarling and barking, launching themselves after me. They must have heard me coming, and take me completely by surprise. One moment I'm considering how the patch of ground by the side of the track up ahead on the right looks like a great camp spot: quiet, flat, sheltered, with an existing circle of stones for a fire; and the next, I'm recoiling in shock, glancing back over my left shoulder, pedalling furiously, adrenaline pumping, yelling back at the dogs as they chase my back wheel. This time, as I’m travelling with enough speed and they only give chase as I pass, I have soon outrun them. But the surprise at how they appeared so close, and so suddenly, leaves the adrenalin flowing for the next ten minutes.

Greek mythology is full of ancient stories of individuals leaving their everyday world to undertake challenging quests - difficult journeys or tasks that must be completed to achieve a goal or earn a reward - during which they face obstacles in the form of deadly singing Sirens, the man-eating Minotaur and serpent-haired Gorgons who could turn them to stone, to name but a few. These heroes must generally use the best elements of what it means to be human in order to achieve their aims, demonstrating great strength, courage, wisdom, cleverness, or devotion. But they also exhibit human weaknesses and make mistakes, which often leads to their untimely downfall.

The challenges facing those undertaking a modern day journey through the mountains of Greece are a little less glamorous, mostly comprising groups of aggressive sheep dogs, thunderstorms, and difficulties finding food supplies in empty villages, although the never-ending series of valleys and ridges can't have changed all that much since ancient times.  I'm fairly sure that I don't possess many of the above-mentioned heroic qualities in the required quantities, but hopefully I'll survive...

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Cleaning the bike the following day in the street attracts the attention of local kids on their bikes, who pore over the wide tyres and big name components. "This is a good bike", they say, suitably impressed. This is a sentiment reiterated by the hotel owner in Smixi, a bike mechanic I meet a couple of weeks later, and pretty much anyone else with any interest in riding that I come across.  Whilst mountain biking is popular here, the state of the economy coupled with restrictions on overseas purchases made with Greek bank accounts means that bikes that may seem relatively cheap elsewhere, are often completely out of reach here.The forecast is rain for the next couple of days, so I settle in and plan to catch up on some photo editing from recent trips. I really dislike riding and camping in the rain and mud for days at a time, and have been telling myself that I should feel more relaxed about sitting out the bad weather. One day turns into two, three and then four, although the heavy rain that was predicted gives way to sunshine at lunchtime on the second day, and I feel as if I should have got my arse in gear and hit the road again, even though it returns heavily the following day. I often feel guilt about resting and absorbing a place, with some artificial pressure to push on. But there is no rush, no deadline, and I do enjoy a bit of time with a coffee watching the world go by...