We are now in Patras on the west coast of Greece. The drive from Athens was not very interesting. The road followed the. Gulf of Corinth which is just like driving along the shores of a. Scottish loch only not as beautiful. Tomorrow night we embark for Brindisi, on the eastern part of the bootheel of Italy. It was an early rise in order to get things packed, and on the road in good time. Eventually we made it by about quarter past eleven, headed for Pireaus, the scene of one of our forgettable nights out. We thought that if we kept to the coast road we should eventually come out on the main Athens – Corinth road. But we were to be disappointed again. Our road led through Piraeus, which is one sprawling jumble of careless pedestrians, equally careless drivers and nightmare roads which abruptly come to an end with no warning at all. They are dusty and still inches deep in caked mud which was washed out of the unmade side streets in Sunday night’s storm. No visible attempt has been made to clear them. The army has been called in to help, but they are no different from their fellow countrymen. They stand leaning on their shovels, eyeing the road as though it might suddenly clear itself. Everywhere we see groups of men standing around conversing. Either the unemployment is high or the art of conversation is highly developed in Greece. Dirt and squalor evrywhere. We drove on through all this, growing ever more despondent until we hit a dead end, forcing us to turn back to recommence the search for the road to Patras; it was some miles further back. But to say it is the main road leading into the capital, it is atrocious! I’ll be running out of adjectives soon at this rate. – The road surface which was being worked on, was rough and rocky. The diversions were many and of course, even worse. The roadworkers have a strange habit of leaving the ensuing debris from the repair where it is – in the road. It must wreak havoc on the cars – and their drivers’ tempers. At this rate, we will really be glad to leave Greece.
At last we reached the fairly open road to Corinth which we reached much later than anticipated. We almost didn’t get there at all. A stupid lorry driver pulled out without Signaling just when I was alongside him. I slammed on the brakes, and managed to avert a disaster, however not without scraping the wall on the other side of the road… These drivers are absolutely crazy. They do not use the signals; will not pull over to the right to allow cars to overtake them, and when approaching from the opposite direction, will hug the centre of the road forcing us over to the right.
At Corinth I was glad to hand over the wheel to Allan after the most nerve-wracking part of the trip. On the way, we passed over the famous Corinth ship canal. To give some idea of the height, a stone took Six seconds to hit the water.
Corinth was another disappointment – sorry. And I keep talking about coming back to Greece! It is just another dirty, squalid, medium sized town. What a place for Byron to be buried! Once out of Corinth, the vegetation grew more profuse.
For the remainder of the trip we drove by orange and lemon groves in great numbers by the side of the road. In one. Small village we passed through, fruit was being sold by the roadside. We stopped and bought well over a pound of grapes and two pounds of apples for 1/6d.(10¢). Fruit is cheap – the only thing apart from the “vino.”
We drove on, a coastal route with views of the mountains across the gulf, typically dull and bare, no comparison with the Alps. The villages we passed through were depressingly poor and dirty. The only money in Greece seems to reside in Athens.
Patras was reached just after five o’clock. We carried on through the town searching for a camp site on the other side of town. One appeared in the form of an olive grove cum vineyard. We asked permission to camp from a man working nearby. I don’t think he understood, and possibly did not give assent, but we camped anyway. Our every movement was watched by three local youths with something approaching awe. Simple people, these – and probably just as happy as us.
Another tin of steak and kidney pudding was readily consumed and now, after writing this, we shall be turning in to sleep – at eight fifteen. That’s what I call behaving ourselves!
Tomorrow we shall go into town to find the shipping agent’s office. There should be a letter waiting for me. It has just started to rain. Goodnight.
Speedo reading: 16473. 191 mls. (2929)