Oh what a beautiful morning .................... oh what a beautiful day.......................
I've got a horrible feeling ................. nothing is going my way, hey .............. nothing is going my way!
We had a peaceful night' sleep thank goodness, there was nothing else positive
to say about Camping Apollo Village.
So up I got, flip-flops and dressing gown on, washbag and towel in hand and off the grim toilet & shower block. Dressing gown off, washbag emptied
of items required... water on. Let's start with the hot water, let's get it through the system as I'm probably the first in here this morning. Nope, keep running the hot tap ...... it'll come ........ nope just be patient ............. F**k it! - No hot
Back to the motorhome, head down in shame, The Chef having already decided to scrub up indoors because of the facilities. In I go (passing my forlorn paperback immediately upon entering
- more of that later) to announce the absence of hot water, even though I'd tested the showers last night and there was hot water then.
So I was second in the queue for our own bathroom,
my having turned the boiler on for the full works.
Having scrubbed up had breakfast and dressed I popped outside to start the final preparations for leaving Camping Apollo Village ................
and then it happened. Beneath the vehicle where last night I'd left my sandals out to air, there was just one left. "NOOOooooo not f**cking again! I don't believe it, where the hell has it gone". We searched high and low, but there was no sign of the second
From that moment on I proved that we men can multi-task as I continued to prepare the vehicle for the road whilst at the same time cussing like hell.
Ready for the road we drove up to the Reception. Whilst The Chef went in to pay for our memorable quality five star overnight stay, I, remembering that I'd seen two of their dogs lying down and busily licking themselves yesterday
afternoon near the bar area, I popped round there to take a look. As I approached the dogs, there was my sandal, a bit chewed. Needless to say I conveyed my anger to the owner in both words and facial expressions. A waste of time, it went right over her head.
I figured that if I recovered it and scrubbed it up this evening using disinfectant I could be back in business.
What a joy as we passed through the exit gate, my pleasure being enhanced
by my stopping just outside the gate and dumping all of my grey water on them.
Next stop Ancient Olympia. There were two options for us. Either we went the shortest route across
country heading northeast, which was just one side of a triangle, or we went the longest way round and heading further north before turning east, thus doing two sides of the triangle.
Chef was quick to point out how much further the second option was, and so it was - we headed northeast, just one side of the triangle.
What an experience it was. Crappy, narrow roads with
twists and turns, and the vehicle continually feeling light on the front wheels and down at the back end as we climbed so steeply, driving our way to hell.
And then it happened. there in
the road was a Greek Plod, waving us down and gesturing us to make a left turn. We didn't know why, but we obeyed. Having turned left we found ourselves on a minor road running parallel to the road we wanted . Until we came across some resurfacing roadworks
where the road surface came to a sheer, sharp drop, of some six inches, I kid you not. I announced to The Chef that there was no way I was taking the vehicle down that, it would damage the underside. "Up the Greeks, we're going back" I announced. Back to the
Greek Plod. I tried to explain that I could not take the vehicle that way as it was too dangerous. So he waved us along the original road he didn't want us to travel on. Just down the road we passed a few sheep half on the road half off. That was it. The silly
sod was making people do a detour just to avoid these stupid sheep. On we went, climbing, twisting and turning until ....... begger me, the road was blocked - they were felling trees and the beggers were crashing down on to the road once they'd chain-sawed
them. Perhaps then, Greek Plod was trying to dissuade people from continuing up the road. The fireman who was doing traffic duty up there had a conversation with me during which neither of us understood one word the other had said. However I made my position
clear by turning off the engine and just sitting there, we were going nowhere - only through that blocked road.
In time, luckily for us a lorry arrived to take away the felled branches, and
we were invited to follow it through the blockage, provided we were happy to drive over smaller branches and leaves. I think between that point and our arrival at Ancient Olympia, the wisdom of taking the shorter route may have been mentioned.
On our arrival there was absolutely nowhere to park, and this wasn't even peak season. In the end we parked up the hill in a back street with the lady who's house we'd parked outside giving us her blessing.
Before leaving the vehicle I took a closer look at my chewed sandal. Begger, although it was in reasonable condition, the damned dog had chewed off a plastic buckle which was needed to adjust the front
of the sandal. That was it then - one pair of ruined sandals.
I grabbed the SLR camera and we headed for the Ancient Olympia site. Two tickets at EU pensioner rates, half price,
six Euros each.
I have to say the site was a big disappointment. The lazy Greeks had made no effort to reconstruct any part of the site, and so we were left to wander around piles of rubble,
pretty much. The biggest disappointment whilst there was that the battery on the camera packed upon me despite having shown a full charge before I set out. So now both the main and spare batteries are on charge via mains electricity rather than in twelve volt
I was glad to have seen the actual stadium, and indeed the exact location where, every four years the Olympic torch is lit ready to make its long journey to that years venue.
But the rest - rubble. Thank goodness that was the last site of rubble we are planned to visit.
On the way back we took a look around the very touristy shops. The Chef grabbed some rolls
for lunch and I had a look for some replacement sandals. The nearest I got was a flimsy pair for sixty-five Euros. I think I may need to look at sports shops to find what I want, though I doubt if I'll come across one here.
After lunch we set out for our next destination - Camping Aginara Beach where we would spend just a few days. The road was so much better and we arrived mid-afternoon. It's quite nice here actually, though all the signs
around the site are in German, not even Greek and German, so I'll allow you one wild guess as to who are the most prevalent nation pitched up here
And the forlorn paperback?
Yesterday I finally finished my book about the submarine service and made a start on my next challenge - 'In The Presidents Secret Service'. It's a bit gossipy about the conduct of former presidents and their
families as told by the Secret Service guys who guard them around the clock.
If I were to pass the book, of which I'd read about the first thirty pages in to the vehicle I would probably
lean up and sit it on the glass cover over the sink unit just inside the habitation door on the left. This I did. Sadly however, some hours later it was discovered that The Chef had left some washing up water in the sink with the lid up and I had in fact simply
dropped the book in to said water. Once discovered the book was absolutely sodden wet. I have since tried to dry it out but it is I fear an impossible task and I shall have to bin it and order a replacement off good old Amazon.
Never mind - tomorrow is another day.
PS. Internet connection here is very poor.