Day 65 – 69: A week with Max
Metsovo – Meteora – Larissa – Lamia – Ypsilandis – Athene: 458 km
In the morning the manager of the hotel that I’ve stayed at in Metsovo tells me a friend of mine has arrived yesterday. I’m confused, but he explains a colleague-cyclist has checked in just after me, and he’s a door down from my room. Our balconies abreast, we meet each other over the railing. Max is his name. “Heading to Athens, I have a flight back home to Germany on the 21st of October”, he explains. “I too have to be in Ahtens on the 21st, I’m meeting a friend”, I reply. “Let’s ride together!”, we both exclaim.
My first riding buddy. And a more experienced one at that. The week with Max is awesome. He rides a folding bike, specifically made to fold up into a suitcase and fly to any place around the world with, and that’s just wat he did. Max is a teacher and during the couple weeks he is off now, he’s been riding through Greece. And it’s not his first time bikepacking. He has cycled most of Europe, the Indian Himalayas, the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, Laos and Brazil. Here, on our first day together we have a climb for breakfast. Luckily, before long, the freezing cold and intense mist of the mountains around Metsovo, where we throw ourselves off the descents without being able to see much further than 30 meters ahead, tuns into a much warmer and surprisingly sunny Meteora, famous for its Eastern Orthodox monasteries situated on the narrow rock formations. We decide to stay for a day to visit them.
The monasteries, although still in use by the black robed monks, have become more of a tourist attraction then a place of pilgrimage. Nonetheless they are impressive. They sit pristinely on their natural pillars; a product of millions of years of very precise and rare natural circumstances. Inside there’s not a piece of wall that isn’t painted with (often gruesome) religious scenes. It’s a strange combination of an onerous and Disney-like atmosphere at the same time.
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The days Max and I spend together, we cover a lot of ground. Around 100 km every day, and elevation gains over 1500 meters are more of a standard then an exception. Riding together make the gradients seem gentler. Whenever one of us has a hard time, the other supports. We eat gyros and spanakopita all day, and have a beer whenever we arrive. We talk about cycling, about our plans for the future, about love, and where we’re actually going next. The rain has passed and we’re riding the indie summer away. We pass olive groves, climb lonely forgotten roads and stay in tiny towns. We see the sun rise on particularly long days that require us to wake up early. We pass cute towns that we both never heard of, take in their relaxed vibes in the afternoon sun, rosy from the day’s ride.
The road into Athens is the most dangerous one I’ve taken so far. This morning I decided to take the bigger road, in favour of the much more mountainous quieter one. I think Max would’ve wanted to take the one through the mountains, but he doesn’t press me on it. My legs (and mind) are just not up for another climbing stage. Big mistake. We ride into Athens on one of the main arteries, a ten-lane road where traffic rules are considered suggestions. Trucks weave in and out, passing us on high speed, way, way too close. But we are passed the point of no return. Going back would just mean the same amount of road with the same amount of kilometres to the other direction, still facing that climb I was trying to avoid. So we push through. Stressed we make it to Athens unharmed. Returning to the relaxed state so indicative of our week together, we break our last bread, which is naan in this case, because we’re having Indian for lunch. Time to say our goodbyes. It’s been great fun! I will miss having Max around, but my pre-emptive nostalgia is soon replaced by the excitement of this city. Riding towards the Airbnb, the grandeur and liveness of Athens speaks to me. I might stay here for a while.
