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03.19.2017, Travel, by .

I’m doing exactly the opposite of what I suggested in the previous post. I’m writing at a coffee shop on an iPad. I’m fine with the paradox as long as I can find goldilockyesterday on a whim I took a boat to Egina. It was an hour to get there and a four hr stay for just over €10, I’d be out of my mind to skip it. When I was arrived my first instinct was to hike to the top of the extinct volcano. I’m burning up my Keens in Gr, walking 50 kilometers in the first 2 days. I bought a map and was immediately disappointed with it because there were no street names. With some frustration I just started walking “up” and hoped I wouldn’t run into many dead ends. About 20 minutes into the hike I realized the map wasn’t the issue, the streets had no signs. I asked someone later and they told me that they do have names, but “it’s complicated, so they just don’t use them”. The road I picked was luckily not a dead end. Up is a trustworthy direction.

The walk proved to be dangerous. The no name streets were only wide enough for a wagon, the drivers treated the road like the Indianapolis 500 and some spots simply didn’t have an escape route. A few times I had to but up against a wall so I didn’t get flattened. I was munching the lemon toasted pistachios I bought at the port and suspected that the irrigated trees I saw was their source. Sure enough, I found some rotten pistachios left over from the last season. It was a nice confirmation. I saw turkeys, goats and rows and rows of terrised pistachio trees. I could her an excavator digging from the mountain view but couldn’t locate it. Lacking an analogue watch I started worrying about time and feared that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to the top and back before my boat departed. I figured I spend the rest of my time walking around the beautiful port town

I had just told a friend about an unreal motorcycle accident I had in Albuquerque, that I walked away from. I had the itch to join in on the local speeed way. A barker snagged my ears with, “motor bike for rent”. It was €15 for 2 hrs, so again, I didn’t think twice. He did charge extra for a helmet. Sad Face, Happy Brain. I started around the island when I realized again that not having a timepiece was causing undue stress. I discover there was a digital military time display on the control panel, but it obviously was not the middle of the night. I figured I had been riding for 15 minutes so I used it as a timer, writing the incorrect return time on the back of my hand. I still didn’t know if I had the time to do the whole island. I headed back to the road I had walked and astonished at the difference in the experience. I would not have known for sure what the trees growing were, nor would I have heard the crazy turkeys.

When walking the environment dominates the experience. We did not evolve to engage with things at 65 kilometers an hour. It was very fun riding the bike. Aside from cliff jumping and the like, there has to be nothing closer to flying. I soared from village to village, one of which looked like everyone just got up and abandoned it all at once, a very fresh ghost town. Perhaps if I slowed down I could have gathered what happened there, but I just cranked the throttle. My countdown timer was getting close and to make the nameless streets more complicated the letters in the town names did not match the letters of the names on the map. Complicated indeed. While I was topping off the tank I asked the attendant if I was going the right direction to get to the port. I was, and made it back to my boat with only 5 minutes to spare.

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