Back on the road at last!

Collecting my cash from the post office was quite an ordeal. I can't tell if it is always like this: maybe Monday morning is pension collection day. In any case, it takes grim determination not to let all the old ladies push me out of the way. I had the chance to see how Greeks cope with queue-jumpers, but I am not good at it. After an hour and a half I have my cash. I tried to buy stamps once more, but I would need to join another queue, and I cannot face it. They are not really queues, but clusters of people circling for an opening like crows round road kill.

I get food, pay Giannis and, with his help, book a hotel in Kato Tithoria for tonight. This place is so non-touristy that neither of its hotels can be booked online.

I sort out my bike brakes, helped by cats who have learned that I feed them the left-over butter from my breakfast. The kitten plays with my Allen keys and one cat tries to sit on the saddle as I work. Cats are so naturally helpful...

Catching the train is simple, despite all the problems raised when I asked about it in advance. The conductor is stern but really helpful, as if I were a naughty child bringing a bike on a train.

In a carriage on my own, I have a picnic. It is a shame it is already dark, as the scenery is probably spectacular.

At the first stop two Greeks join my carriage. They are friendly enough and quiet, one might even say sleepy. They smell strongly of smoke and ouzo, and of alcohol sweated out. It is probably a mercy that they keep the door open, but it is freezing.

I couldn't find a list of stations we stop at, and the ticket office said they didn’t have one. So I am nervous about missing the stop or not having time to collect the bike from the guard's van. I try to guess the stations from my map, which marks part of the railway line. We make several stops I can't identify, then go non-stop for over an hour. I can follow the announcements, so it is silly to be nervous, and of course I get off at my stop with no hassle. It is dark: having fixed my lights, I ask a taxi-driver the way to my hotel.

Well, I easily find the other hotel... and pass it. At the point where I think I am about to leave the town, I see two women chatting and ask them about the hotel. They give me a piece of the delicious, warm apple pie they were sharing, then one dashes off. She returns in her car and drives back into town to show me the way. As ever, people are kind and helpful, I feel privileged to be treated like this.

It is around ten pm so I dine on yoghurt and raisins and get to bed early, looking forward to a cycling day at last, around Mount Parnassos.