It's been a long time since I've had to have a big group of people and horsing around to have a good time. All I need is the right motorcycle, a natural environment and even someone who appreciates the same things as me. It's not a problem for me to ride alone for hours. Sometimes I need it to realize what it is I want; other times I just don't mind. That's how I headed out recently, without saying anything to anyone, just me and the TDM Monza. I woke up late but it didn't matter much; I just had to change my destination slightly, instead of heading to the lakes in northern Greece, to go to the Mornos Reservoir. What difference does it make anyway? All lakes are equally beautiful -- and as Master Zordan says, "I'm game for anything." I had great memories of the lake from the 36-hour endurance race. It had rained cats and dogs, but unlike the rain in Athens, which is dirty and toxic, this rain was clean and cool. That shower had been like a cleansing of mind and body. But this time it was hot -- really hot! They say hamams (turkish baths) clean the skin; who knows, maybe they're right. In any case, I took the national highway toward Corinth and got off at the exit before the toll, heading towards Magoula and Dervenochoria.
I continued on the road toward Arachova and Delphi Every so often I stopped to take pictures. I was not on a schedule, I was not in a hurry, I was not worried about anything. I was just riding and letting myself get carried away by the relaxation of the ride. I was simply drawing out my route.
TDM Monza with its brother! In honor of the 130 (+) people who were executed there by the Germans in WWII.
At some point, I arrived to my destination. The Mornos Reservoir. Uploaded with ImageShack.us Uploaded with ImageShack.us Uploaded with ImageShack.us
I stopped at Lidoriki for coffee, WATER, ice cream and gas, and from there to Giona and Oiti mountains.
From there I passed from Bralos, which, as someone once wrote, has its own black history. The writing on the wall used to say "Heroes' Way" but I was thinking "Lost Opportunities Avenue," "Street of Lost Youth," "Misunderstanding Lane" etc etc. Finally, the national highway. Freaking expensive and with just ONE lane available, it makes you wonder what the hell you are paying for in the end. Maybe that's why they call it "highway robbery." A stop at Kamena Vourla for dinner. Not the same as it used to be! Return to my plastic consumerist reality. I spend the last few kilometers pissed off and screaming. The herd returns to its pen, unfed, and doesn't stop at anything in order to return to its jail as quickly as possible. It's over, damn it!
"I was not on a schedule, I was not in a hurry, I was not worried about anything." Reminds me of Nikos Kazantzakis' famous phrase... "I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free." Traveling is exactly about that, isn't it? Freedom... And the return home --for you at least-- a return to the pen. Sad. Can't we have freedom even when we aren't on a journey? Didn't Ulysses CRAVE his return? Was he just a sheep? Anyway--great pics, as always. Though maybe too many of the reservoir. As you said, they are all the same.
