Thursday, 15 July, 2010 --- Day 24

Start at VALENCIA End at ATHENS (AIRPORT)

I was up by 7:30, got ready in a hurry and rushed downstairs. Spithas was patiently waiting for me in his box. At this point I would like to take the opportunity and dedicate a couple of lines to personally thank Spithas for all he has done for me during the past 25 days, for his cooperation, his leadership, his endurance, his patience, his companionship, and finally for the understanding he demonstrated. Without a single sigh of discomfort he accepted to be put in a box and then loaded to the hull of a plane w/ all the luggage. Spithas thank you for everything!!!

It took me half an hour to carry the Spithas box to the subway station. When I got there I waited on the line to buy the ticket. The lady in the booth was the same one that had given me info late last night. She was there late last night and early this morning. It came as a natural question to ask her if she lived in the booth. She actually remembered me and asked me if everything went right. It took half an hour to the airport. The airport was small and it was easy to navigate oneself. I was actually early. The flight was at 13:00, I arrived at 10:00 and had to wait till 11:20 for the counters to open and start checking people in. I took the opportunity and took a couple of pictures. My only negative criticism of Valencia is that a city of the stature and beauty of Valencia deserves a better airport.

Spithas in the box and I at the airport

Pictures of the airport






When the time came I proceeded to the counter. When the girl saw the box asked me what was in it and I told her that it was Spithas and then explained that I meant my bike. The supervisor (jefa de la escala) approached and in a very unfriendly tone said “you will have to pay for this.” “You are probably mistaken” I told her, “I flew to Casablanca w/ Al Italia and they did not charge anything extra for carrying a bike.” I continued “I have flown numerous times with Spithas on other airlines as well and it is the first time that someone wants to charge extra.” “I do not care mister” she said, “either you pay or I will call the police and you will miss the flight.” They gave me an excess baggage ticket and I went to the offices of Al Italia where I made the payment. The “jefa” did not even let me leave Spithas at the counter, so, I had to carry him with me back and forth. When Spithas was checked in, I asked to see “jefa’s” ID. She said she was busy w/ customers and I would have to wait. I pointed out that I was also a customer and deserved similar attention. She nodded that she did not care. After she was through w/ the customers she was “attending” I repeated my request only to get the same answer back. I waited for a little longer and when I saw that the envelop was not getting any further, I left and went to find the police. Soon I was back with two policemen. The “jefa” seemed nervous and rather than just show her ID she started telling the police “he did not want to pay,” pointing at me. “Lady I don’t care what you say, all I need you to do is show me your ID” I said. The “jefa” waived the ID card before my eyes and when I told her that this did not give time to copy any of the info she waived it again. I turned to the policeman who said “she did show her ID it to you.” As expected, the police took the side of their pals as best as they could. While this was happening the “jefa” said loud to the policemen so I could hear it “it is within my power to stop him from flying, if I choose to do so.” Finally I managed to extract her name and the number 1318 which was in the middle of the ID. After that I left. I must say that all this time I was thinking of Mostafa’s experience which made me really careful in what I said and how I said it.

In addition, as the whole incident was going on the two fellow Greeks that I had met yesterday had also arrived at the airport. We were evidently all flying Al Italia to Greece. They went out to smoke and I met them again at gate waiting to board.

We boarded w/ no further incident other than a one hour delay. We all went to our seats but as the seats were not that far apart we managed to carry a conversation and agreed to go to the city of Rome during the seven hour layover. Another passenger, Grigoris, also said he would join us.

Costas had been to Rome before and knew the whereabouts. So, once they checked their hand luggage at Fiumicino, we hired a cab and at Costas’s suggestion drove us to “piazza di Espania.”




The cabbie was very friendly, he told us that he had just returned from a trip to Greece and at his suggestion we agreed that he would pick us up at the piazza at 19:30, local time.

From piazza di Espania we walked to “Fontana di Trevi.”








We went to a nearby café where we had a couple of beers. After that walked back to piazza di Espania and from there to another very beautiful piazza whose name escaped me.








Time flies and as my companions were hungry we sat at a pizza place to eat something then walked back to Piazza di Espania where my namesake treated us to a coffee at the famous Café Greco.




The cabdriver was in time so by 19:30 we were driving to the airport. He actually took a longer way back so that we could see some extra sights.
Coliseum


Pyramid


As the tour was drawing to an end, we hit heavy traffic but the cab driver in a very cool tone told us not to worry and actually we beat the traffic w/ some of his magic tricks. I do not know how but we ended up ahead of everybody and made it well in time.

We boarded w/o incident other than one hour delay and arrived in Athens at 2:30 in the morning.

Spithas was there waiting for me and that allayed my fears that he might have been sent to Africa or Asia, instead of Athens, by that deranged lady with whom you’ve only watched one episode and there are plenty more to come.

CIRCUMBIKATION-03 was officially over!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOTS OF THANKS TO THE BELOVED AUDIENCE.
IT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE W/O YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, 14 July, 2010 --- Day 23

I woke up rather late, but in all honesty not as late as I should have, considering last night’s hardship. After showering and the rest I went to the reception where I found Hilberto gone and somebody else in his place. This other person was also very helpful and immediately answered my questions. The first and most important question was where I could find a bike store. In order to fly tomorrow, if I wanted Spithas to come w/ me, I would have to find a bike box, take Spithas apart, and put the Spithas parts in the box. Fortunately, there was a bike store right behind Lonja, which itself was one block away from the hotel. When I asked what is Lonja, the receptionist told me it is a monument. Later I saw Lonja and even later I visited and took pictures which I will show to you.

My first move was to find the bike store. There were several people in the store and as nobody was paying attention to me I approached the mechanic who was working on a bike and told him that I needed a big size box for Spithas. He heard me but his facial expression did not change, as if he had not heard me at all. At the same time he walked towards the man in the counter at the front and told him that he would go out to find a box. He did not wave to me to follow him, but I did follow him anyhow. We went around the block and opened the door to another smaller store that looked abandoned. When we entered, the store was full of boxes of all types. He picked a big size box and emptied it from all its content and asked me if that would do. I told him that this was perfect and asked him how much it would cost. He just smirked and told me that there was no charge and walked away. I had hardly any time to thank him. Overall this man was very polite and the way he expressed this generosity, I must say, was unusual.

Jubilant I carried the box to the hotel. Finding a box the day before my departure to Greece had been on my mind since the beginning of the trip and with good reason, if one considers the trouble I had finding a Spithas box the last time in Alexandria, where I finally had to put together my own box by taping together small carton boxes I bought in the market.

Now that the most important issue was behind me, I deferred the disassembly of Spithas for tonight reasoning that the best use of my time would be to tour the city now, during the day, and do the Spithas work when it was dark. So I went out and started my tour with the center of the city leaving Lonja, the closest monument, for last. The hotel was not far from the center where most sights are. I started walking and a bunch of girls all dressed in something that looked like a uniform passed by me. They turned out to be Belgian girl scouts. I decided to follow them as they would probably know more about the city and the sights than I did.



Following them I ended up at the train station “Estacion del Norte.” Evidently they were on their way out of the city




I went in the station to take a look. It was a really modern train station for a high speed trains. The building was beautiful and next to it was the “plaza de torros,” where the bullfights take place.






I was really taking it easy. There was no rush for anything so after walking around the station and the “plaza de torros” I headed towards the center. The town center is impressive.










At some point I decided that I should also be in one of my pictures and I asked a lady to take a picture of me with the center in the background. She conceded in a very obliging way. I showed her what button to push on the camera, went across, and posed. As she was pointing the camera at me she lowered it and from her signals I understood that she did not take the picture because there was a bus passing behind me that was blocking the view of the center. So we tried again. The same story. The center, as expected, is frequented by cars and busses of all sorts that kept passing behind me or stopped to discharge passengers, blocking the view of the center all along. To make a long story sort, this lasted for more than ten minutes and I started feeling bad for her and told her that it was OK, the picture was nothing as important to merit all that of her time. She, however, stood firm and waited till the right moment, which she finally, ten minutes later, got. I thanked her a lot and she walked away. If she is a typical Valencian, Valencians are very good people.






I walked back towards the hotel and decided to buy some food. The central market (“mercado central,”) was actually almost right across from the hotel. The central market is a very cool and neat place






I did my food shopping and then went to the hotel to consume the goodies.

After eating and taking a rest I went out again to continue the monument hunt. It was time to visit “La Lonja.” Lonja is an impressive medieval building. I entered and toured the different rooms, wondering all the time what the building’s purpose was. It looked like a medieval government hall. This view was confirmed by a couple of tourists who told me that they were not sure but thought that indeed Lonja was the government building for the local government. Finally on my way out I asked the guard, just to make sure I had it right. That fellow seemed to be waiting for someone to ask his questions. With a lot of eagerness went on and on talking about the building. The upshot was that the first story was wrong. The building was actually a commodity exchange and was in operation till the late 80s, when the digital age took over and rendered it obsolete.










I went on the tour again, this time with a mission. As I had found out, taking the subway was the easiest way to the airport. However, in the morning I would have to carry the bike box w/ Spithas to a subway stop, a cumbersome task. It would make sense to find the closest subway station. I asked around and ended up next to the “Estación del Norte” where I had started my tour earlier this morning. I went down and asked the lady at the ticket booth if I indeed can take the train to the airport and if taking Spithas w/ me would cause any problems. She confirmed the airport question, however, regarding Spithas she thought it was Ok but was not sure so referred me to control booth at the other end. I went there and got the OK. So, the final obstacle had been removed.

I continued walking around in random directions taking pictures






The last place to visit was the plaza I went yesterday night in my first and futile attempt to find a hotel, “plaza de Reina.” It is a really neat place.




I entered all the monuments and churches around it. As I was exiting the last church,


I heard a very loud voice in Greek. Someone was apparently talking on his cell phone saying things like “I am in Valencia now, I’ll call you back when I return to Greece.” I passed by this man and told him in Greek, “how are you doing compatriot.” Costas, that was his name, a little surprised ended his phonecall and turned to me. He was there on a business trip w/ a colleague that had the distinguished and very noble name of Vassily, and who soon joined us. We all agreed that Valencia was a very beautiful town and that it was really worth visiting. We chatted a little longer and then said goodbye wished each other to enjoy the rest of their trip and went on.

It was time for me to go back to the hotel. I went up to my room and I started taking Spithas apart and putting his parts in his box. The only thing that gave me trouble was unscrewing the right pedal. Removing the pedals is crucial. W/o unscrewing them, even one of them, Spithas would not fit in the box. The allen wrench I was using was very basic, to make it small and light, meant for light duty work and did not provide the needed leverage. I shed tons of sweat in my effort to no avail. I arrived at the point of working out different plans in my head, like going to the bike store really early tomorrow morning and buying a wrench that would work there. However, how early would the bike store open and then how long would it take to put Spithas in the box and arrange all my other stuff? Would I be able to make it in time for the flight? Necessity is the mother of invention. This is very true saying and was once more proven to be correct. By looking at the tool in a different way than I always do I realized I could use both hands and provide more leverage. In this novel way lurked the risk of injuring/cutting my hand but “who cares!!!!!!” It did work. I put Spithas in his box along w/ all the other stuff and kept the very basic out for my knapsack. I went for a night shower that I really deserved w/ all the sweat that I had shed and then went downstairs and had an interesting conversation w/ Hilberto, who is a very nice and dependable man. Before leaving I asked him to knock on my door at 8:00 in the morning, and went to bed. It was already 2:30 in the morning.

Tuesday, 13 July, 2010 --- Day 22

Start at MALAGA End at VALENCIA (BUS)

I was up by 10:00 and after I packed up I went for a walk to see the sights of Valencia.
City center area






The port


City center






By 12:00 I was back at the hotel and from there I rode Spithas to the not so far bus station. I purchased a ticket for myself and Spithas. While waiting in line, out of coincidence, another cyclist was behind me. It was natural to start talking. She was not an intercontinental cyclist but a local one. She was using the bike to move around in the city and now she would take the bus to her hometown, whose name she told me but I forgot, and wanted to take the bike along w/ her. She gave me valuable info about the trip and as we were parting in a spontaneous move she took out a muffin out of her bag and offered it to me. “For the trip” she said. I could not but accept such a sweet offer. I thanked and said goodbye as she walked to her bus. He bus left right away but I had to wait for another two hours, till 13:45. After that there was a long day in the bus ahead of me. According to the lady at the ticket window we would arrive in Valencia at 1:00 in the morning the next day.

Be that as it may I had two hours to kill, so, with Spithas consent, we biked around.
Hill near the city center


Beach near the city center


Almost 15 minutes before the departure time I realized what the time was and really stepped on the gas to make it in time. I arrived puffing but in time. I asked the man who appeared to be the driver whether the bus was the bus to Valencia. He answered yes and mumbled something to the effect, there is no rush. Indeed there was no rush. The driver left for his lunch and returned 45 mins later.

We started an easy ride. The scenery around was beautiful and also reminiscent of Greece. The highway was up to almost US standards and even though it seemed that we were just cruising, we were indeed speeding.

First stop


Second stop at Lorca


The person sitting at the seat next to me was Mostafa who has lived in Spain, near Barcelona, for the last 10 years. He was originally from Nador, the last city I visited in Morocco. He was interesting and loquacious. We ended up being very friendly and he confided in me certain of his recent mishaps. Due to stress at his work he ended up having something like a nervous breakdown and he was prescribed a number of medicine pills. As a result, he said, he could lose his temper easily. However, he never became violent he just raised the tone of his voice. Unfortunately for him, that had happened two days ago as well. As he was on his way back from Nador he took the boat to Malaga like myself and from there he intended to fly to Barcelona. He had gone to the airport to buy a ticket from a company called Berlin …, there was actually a special offer and would have to pay only half the price. However, when he approached the window the lady behind the window told him that this offer only applied to Spaniards. Upon that he showed his permanent residence card, by virtue of which he could also buy at half price. The lady however to told him to take a hike or she would call the police. Mostafa refused and she did call the police who, when they arrived without really investigating in to what had happened told him to leave or he would be arrested. Mostafa told them that it was his right to buy the ticket at half price like everybody else and he was not going to go away. Upon that the policemen grabbed him, handcuffed him, and beat him, as they pushed him in the police car that drove him to jail. He still had the marks of the beating on his arms, which he showed me. He spent the almost two days in jail w/o having access to his medicine as the policemen ignored anything he said.

Mostafa repeated the story several times and answered all the questions I asked him. I concluded that, if his description is accurate, he has a strong case against the airline company and the lady at the window. In addition, he has a strong case against the police, especially for not letting him access his medicine, despite his repeated appeals. The time went by faster than expected due mostly to the several conversations I had with Mostafa.

At about four hours before Valencia, the driver was replaced and the new driver turned out to be a mean tempered one. Almost immediately I had a squabble w/ him. As he opened the doors of the luggage area, I went out just to make sure that Spithas was in good shape and when a lady tried to put her suitcase on him I moved it to the side. The new driver came and in a really quarrelsome tone of voice he asked me whether this were my bike and when I told him that it was, he said it should not be there and he was surprised that the previous driver let me put him in the hull w/o first putting him in a box. I did not want to make a mount out of an anthill so I did not answer his provocation, and sort of ignored him. When Mostafa and I attempted to walk back to our seats he asked to see our tickets. We told him that they were w/ our stuff on our seats. He walked w/ us and Mostafa showed him his ticket, whereas I started looking for the ticket allover the place. Naturally, all the time I was looking for the ticket, I was actually holding it in my hand. I even went as far as producing a flashlight and started looking in my knapsack. Fifteen minutes later the conductor just walked away saying that I should show it to him before I get off the bus. I never showed him the ticket.

We drove on and after a number of stops and a few hours of driving, we arrived at Valencia. I got off the bus, took Spithas out of the hull, fitted him right, and said goodbye to Mostafa who would be riding for a few more hours.

It was 2:00 in the morning. My next move would have to be to find a place to sleep. After asking around I learned that the best place to look for a hotel was the town center, which turned out to be a ten minute ride in the empty streets. I checked on a couple of hostels on the way and all were completely full, due to a concert that would be taking place, I was told. I started seeing clearly before my eyes the prospect of spending the night on bench near Spithas. Fortunately, however, my last call was answered. The Hostal – Residencia Hospederia del Pilar at Plaza del Mercado 19, had a room that exactly fitted my needs. The receptionist that took my info from my passport noticed that I was Greek and told me that he used to be able to speak Greek. This was totally unexpected and I asked him if he had lived in Greece, the only reason for learning Greek, that I could think. He answered that he had not but he worked on Greek ships for a few years, starting at the age of 19. It had been a long time since then, however, and couldn’t remember but a few words which he readily practiced w/ me.

Exhausted I went to my room and after I unpacked went straight to sleep.