We were away early at 07:15hrs. and into the insane, hooting, weaving traffic of the morning rush hour. George’s bike was a bugger to start and kept stalling at the many traffic lights we encountered. After following the wrong road out of town we had to about-turn and pitch back into the fray. My wrath grew as buses sought to crush us and cars honked their horns incessantly as we crept from red light to red light. We were almost out of town when George’s “old faithful” gave up the ghost and stubbornly resisted all attempts to restart her.
We wheeled the bikes into a side street and tinkered with the points, to no avail, before seeking aid at a motorbike service shop. In a quarter of an hour the bloke from the shop had replaced the knackered points and had the bike purring like a kitten with a few deft adjustments. Our spirits rose again as we soared out of Thessaloniki on the Kavala road. Kavala is a city in northern Greece, the principal seaport of eastern Macedonia and the capital of Kavala regional unit. It is situated on the Bay of Kavala, across from the island of Thasos and on the Egnatia motorway, a one-and-a-half-hour drive to Thessaloniki, 160 kilometres (99 miles) west. Lady Luck had smiled upon us again.
We stopped for a coffee (Greek tar job) 36 miles after leaving the hostel and raided the adjacent store for brunch. I purchased a tin of squid from Thailand (mainly out of curiosity) and tucked in heartily to the horrid looking fare. We lit out again with George’s bike showing a reluctance to start already and we rode non-stop to Kavala.
As we came into the harbour the memories came flooding back of those eventful days four years ago – nothing appeared to have changed. We had been here on a Young World (low budget 18-30's holiday company based in Brighton) lads holiday to Thassos (Θάσος) the northern most Island of Greece in 1979. We escaped to Istanbul after an ouzo-fuelled fracas at the welcome disco on the first night. We had a coffee in George’s Café next to the fishing shop where our friend Roy Smith had bought a rod in 1979 and sat by the harbour in the sun awaiting the 16:00 hrs. Thassos ferry.
We wandered about and were drinking Coca Cola in a café when I noticed that it was 16:05 hrs. by another customers watch. We leapt over to the ferry stand but we had missed it by a few minutes. We had talked of staying in Kavala overnight, so this decided us. After a fruitless tour looking for a guest house we booked into a classy hotel (Room 206 at the Nefeli Hotel) for 1,000 Drachma (plus tax – not immediately apparent as usual!) and for the second time on this trip we basked in luxurious sterilised surroundings.
We scoured the town again and settled down on the sea front to a Swagman special of inch thick salami and onion sandwiches washed down with wine. Continuing in our mood of extravagant exuberance we purchased a snorkel and mask to enhance our future off shore exploration sorties. Pausing only to buy a bottle of Retsina (nasty Greek white or rosé wine flavoured with resin) we returned to our hotel engaging in bouts of light-hearted silly banter.
Bike reading 16,021 miles.
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