Day 53, Tuesday 17 June - Igoumenitsa - The last weeks in Greece

In the Corinth Canal (Thanks to Jose from Spain for the Pic!)

After some 1600km I'm here in Igoumenitsa, happy to be staying at the Jolly Hotel. My favourite pub name in all of Britain has to be The Jolly Taxpayer in Portsmouth and, as the 13-14 Tax Year in Australia draws to a close at the end of this month, so does my time in Greece. From my balcony I can see the mountains of Albania and, weather permitting, I plan to be under them tomorrow. There is no doubt that Greece has been a very generous and beautiful host this past 7 weeks or so and there are feelings of both melancholy and excitement as I move on to the Balkan nations, 5 countries in the final month or so of this kayaking stage of mediterr année.

(By the way Croatia is still for sale for Save the Children, the only Balkan country left. I'd LOVE to see it bought before I get there in early July. Check here for details. While Croatia are trying to score some goals in the World Cup why not get a team together and score a BIG goal for Save the Children's work with children affected by war and conflict? Continuing the Tax theme, all donations are tax deductible!)

Albania has me intrigued. The first country bought for Save the Children (thanks Prosser family!), the first alphabetically of the 20 I plan to travel through. Albania was ruled by the self proclaimed King Zog up until the outbreak of World War 2. Zog sounds more like a piece of IKEA furniture than such royalty. I've often thought that one of the best jobs in the world must be a position on the IKEA naming panel. I imagine, in the 6 month darkness of an Arctic winter, they retreat to a cabin complete with a crate or two of vodka. There, as the snow falls and the shots are drunk, the suggestions ring out in the cold air: 'Blat!'perfect for a bookcase perhaps? 'Leftos!' for that comfy sofa?

Then for over 40 years up until 1992, communist Albania closed its borders and, ruled with an iron fist by Enver Hoxha, slowly retreated from the world, alienating firstly its Russian allies then its Chinese friends. The country neither welcomed nor sought contact with the outside world. 700,000 concrete bunkers were built - one for every 4 people. Now the country is open again, visitors are welcome and the economy finding its way on the international stage after some desperate teething troubles. Many Greeks warn me to 'be careful and travel quickly' but those travellers I have met who have been there say it is a fine and hospitable country. Understandably the Greeks may have some residual mistrust of their once out of reach neighbour. The next 10 days or so will tell.

A Canal so deep
Stavros, from Cannibal Kayaks House, a magnificent host in Athens, farewelled me from Perama on 3 June. I was not game to cross the shipping lanes of Piraeus, one of the busiest ports in the world. It was bad enough dodging freighters amidst the smell of fuel refineries heading away from Athens. As darkness fell I landed at Pichi and went in search of a hotel. This small town had bars aplenty but hotels none. I couldn't believe it when, unknowingly paraphrasing from Little Britain, one bar owner told me 'This is a local town for local people'. I pitched camp amidst the tables of a harbourside taverna as the rain bucketed down.

On a grey old day I battled wind to get to the Corinth Canal in time to go through. For thousands of years boats were hauled across the 6km Isthmus of Corinth on logs, to save the time and treacherous journey around the Peloponesse. For thousands of years thoughts had turned to building a canal. Indeed Roman Emperor Nero had one started, turning the first sod himself with a shovel made from gold. But it was French and Greek companies who finally completed this magnificent engineering feat in 1893. 25m wide and with 76m high walls, What a privilege; to pass through the Canal, in a kayak, alone. Incredible! Thanks to the Corinth Canal Company for facilitating the passage and my apologies for holding up the waiting shipping taking too many pics! And to look up at one of the high bridges and see a massive Aussie flag and a Boxing Kangaroo flag hanging down. Thanks to Olga Tzimos-Zarris, secretary of The Greek-Australian Society!

A Bridge too Far
Olga and Antonis hosted me at their house near Kiato, the start point for my 100km Gulf of Corinth marathon paddle attempt on 6 June to the Rio-Antirrio Bridge. 100km to finish my Marathon Week and to raise more money for Save the Children. In truth I was so tired before I got on the water. A week of late nights, often 1am, and paddle days was not ideal prep and indeed just getting to Kiato the day before was a haul into strong headwinds. Olga took me around to meet the mayor, the sailing club but I could have happily had a proper siesta.........

Tired before it even began

Started well enough......

The forecast seemed OK........at 5am Olga waved me off. Paddling into the dawn and onto a caffeine break after 3 hours, all was good. Then it began, the NW wind when I wanted to travel NW. And apart from one or two short breaks in the wind to encourage me on, there it stayed. I plugged on (as those who followed on the Facebook page saw) but it became increasingly obvious I was not going to make it and I was not prepared for night time paddling. At one point I nodded off; at another I decided to call it a day after 70km or so of my own Battle of Marathon. You can't win them all. It was of course flat calm the next day!

After resting up in a hotel run by George, an unctuous sort of bloke, I plodded on down the Gulf, at one point landing to watch and be hammered as a massive storm cell turned the sea wild within a minute and bucketing rain soaked me with nowhere to shelter. It is these sort of storms to watch when doing open crossings.

I planned to camp at Nafpaktos but George Kaltsis would have none of it and had arranged a hotel, the best in town for me, before taking me out for dinner (at midnight!). George, who I'd met at the Surfers4Life festival was a local lad, 28, who was one of Greece's leading whitewater kayakers. He recounted to me how he'd missed out on selection for the Beijing Olympics because the Greek Canoeing Federation (!) had told him he only needed to attend one selection race of 2 in either Slovenia or Brazil. He obviously chose Slovenia for convenience and cost reasons. Then, just after the Brazilian event, the Federation told him the IOC had now told them he should have gone to both! George had an endearing way of using the word 'stupid' to describe everything from the Federation, to food, mountains or people!

the Bridge too Far is reached.....Finally

The following day, after 43 days of solo paddling, I had company. I had another kayak to photograph instead of the bow on mine! We paddled under the Rio-Antirrio Bridge. If the Corinth Canal was impressive in 1893 then this huge 3km long suspension bridge at the western end of the Gulf was so in 2004 when it opened. But still the ferries ply back and for between Rio and Antirrio. The bridge owners must rue the fact that the ferries guarantee to charge no more than 50% of the bridge toll, currently 13 Euros!

The Ionian.....heading north, snake country?
George, having seen some of his backyard for the first time, left me at Messologi, the start of the delta for Greece's longest river, the Acheloos. From a kayak you often see things that turn out to not be what you saw. Large castles turn out to be little sheds when you get close, rocks tumbling down a hillside turn out to be a village. This is amplified in flat delta country. At one point I saw a couple on a beach, fishing I thought. Then as I got closer one sat on the other. Nothing too unusual in that; as I've gone along the coast I have passed quiet beaches with lovers in embrace and more, averting my gaze and gliding slowly past. As I glided past this couple, the man was sat on a chair.......

In the Ionian

I was in the Ionian Sea, I was heading north, my direction all the way to Slovenia. The prevailing summer winds are northerlies.......wish me luck!. The delta became cliffs and islands; all great paddling. And suddenly yachts were around. I'd seen but a handful to date but now they'd come out to play.

The engine woke me up on my island camp. It was 11-30pm. The small boat came closer. The engine cut and he drifted into the shallow bay, bumping up onto some rocks a few metres from shore. I climbed out of the tent, he shone phone light my way, I shone my headtorch his. He couldn't understand a word I said, I not one of his. He beckoned me to get into his boat. I shone the light on my kayak, my tent and indicated I was going nowhere. Then he started using his arm in a snaking motion and hissing, using his hand to 'bite' his other arm. He kept repeating this.He kept beckoning. In the end he gave up, shrugged his shoulders, said 'OK', pushed off from the rocks, started the engine and disappeared back into the night. For all I could work out he was warning me of snakes on the island. Warning an Australian, home to 8 of the top 10 most venomous in the world, about Greece's only poisonous snake, the viper, to move camp? Still I could not be 100% certain and slept fittingly that night.

Conditions yachties hate!

Temperatures were rising into the 30's across often mirror calm seas which pleased me but not the yachties. The sea sparkled against a backdrop of grey, rocky mountains. In my Corinth Canal excitement I forgot that Greece had one more canal for me. The Lefkas Canal separating the island of Lefkada from the mainland. Cut through swamp country it might have been as long as the Corinth but there was nothing spectacular about it. I briefly touched the left bank of the canal, remembering Wendy and my first holiday together in 1998 on Lefkada, my last visit to Greece.

Birthday coffee on Birthday Beach

50 Days and 50 Years
3 days ago I pulled into a rocky cove of cliffs and caves on a truly spectacular bit of coast. A yacht was moored off a sandy beach that seemed perfect for the last night in my 50th year and to wake for my birthday on the 50th day out of Gallipoli. It was a good spot to be, reminiscent of the beach in NW Australia's Kimberley where Wayne and I celebrated my 40th birthday in 2003, as we paddled that remote and gorgeous coast. Greece put on a great bit of coast for the following day. It was a quiet day and I felt a bit melancholic. Missing Wendy and family but also realising that my time in Greece was coming to an end and also perhaps that with summer arriving, holidaymakers are starting to take over 'my' Med.

But I don't think they will have taken over Albania..........time to get going and get there!

PS There are only 3 countries in the world that start with A but don't finish with A....Can you name them?