53km

The morning found us drier than we had expected and, as we packed up our home, we were granted our first face to face encounter with police at any of our campsites. Yes, we were breaking the law, supposedly, and the farmer we could hear chopping willow saplings across the railroad tracks suspected we were illegal immigrants with knives headed for the EU and a better life, supposedly. We made merry with the border patrol and continued to pack our home with more excitement than contempt, for now we add another story to our collection, if only we could have snapped a photo.

We crossed the border smoothly only to have to fight hard against strong winds. Wind makes us want to cry, and this wind was close to being the worst yet. The dry and, nearly, treeless landscape hurled the strong winds from, seemingly, every direction. Add this to an incline and you get a frustrated and tired couple. Eventually, the beauty of the landscape tipped the scale and we were back at peace with mother nature. In the end it was a really beautiful ride and led us to a beautiful campsite next to some unidentified ruins with a view of the lake in the distance.

The little amount of Greece we saw was dotted with little shrines like this one

damn wind

Speaking Russian to a Greek man with water

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