Cycling across Arcadian highlands and to Sparta
The docks were already bursting with activity when I pushed my loaded bicycle onto the little ferry-boat, and climbed onto the cabin’s roof for a good dose of sun and …
The docks were already bursting with activity when I pushed my loaded bicycle onto the little ferry-boat, and climbed onto the cabin’s roof for a good dose of sun and …
While I normally turn my tent over and shake it in the air to ensure nothing is left inside, that obviously would not work with my rental studio in Poros. …
Poros, I knew in advance, was not my island. By this I mean, that Poros was not the island that I would pick for a longer writing break. Poros, I …
I woke up in Tourlida from my best sleep in a while. I felt that I had finally recovered from the ferry night to Igoumenitsa. Both physically, for the lack …
I woke up once again from my improvised camp site on the promenade deck. The neon lamp above my head was still shining bright, but the wind had stopped and …
Two ferry boats were anchored in the port of Vlorë. I cycled to the seaside to look at them, then paused on the handlebars with a last-moment hesitation, as thoughts …
Armed with my negative covid test, my digital entry form, and my European Union passport, I left Sarandë on the first day of Autumn. Astronomical summer had come to an …