Athens to Sofia on Two Wheels

According to my bicycle computer's odometer it is 1101.4 KM from our hotel in Athens, Greece to our new place of residence in Sofia, Bulgaria. Though it certainly is not fair to describe our trip with such a simple statistic. Nothing against statistics, they have their place, its just that they don't leave room for the quality of hat has transpired in the last two weeks.

In our time in the saddle we have learned that travel by bicycle is an amazing thing. The idea of being able to be outside with no barriers between you and the places you are traveling is a very freeing thing. Freeing not only for us but for the people we are encountering as we go. To them we are seen as people ON bicycles whereas if we were in a car we would be viewed as the car itself not as people IN a car. This openness along with the physical reality of riding a bicycle loaded down with all our gear and belongings is quite the invitation for hospitality whether it is a couple of oranges from a kind woman or a whole evening of food and entertainment from a group of Greeks (more on that later).

Riding a bicycle across a distance is also a more initimate way of travel as it forces you to be completely engaged for the duration of your trip; there is no way to catch a quick nap during a bicycle ride like we could traveling by bus or train. Also it means you are hyper-aware of any geographical change. Any time the road rises or falls with the hills and mountains we will know all too well. Same with the climate of the land. Compare the more humid climate of the coast with a dryer one along Greece's interior and we can say we measured the differance not by a number the weather forcast told us, but by the number of times we had to fill our water bottles during the day.

So then about that hospitality, after riding our bikes out of Larisa we soon found the sun a little lower than we would like considering that we still had to find a campsite. We decided to stop in the closest town and ask where a good place might be. After getting directions from a local man we made our way down to a small lakeside park with some nice tall trees. Upon arrival we discovered that along side this park was more than just a lake. Our park came stocked with three restaurants, one church, an osterich, go-kart track, too many Greek dogs and a handful of friendly people, including two metalheads in a black car. At first I was a little skeptical of the intentions of these two characters, but I soon realized that all they wanted was to have a good time, and it seemed that tonight we would be included in the festivities. After explaining the idea behind our trip and how we had been traveling they insisted that we would not be cooking our own meal tonight and that they would return with some food.

So we waited around for what seemed a long enough time considering our post-ride hunger, until they, as promised, returned with some local fare of stuffed peppers, goat cheese, bread, candy, and ice cream. As well as another person for even more company. After eating and talking for quite a while our defacto hosts for the night had organized with the local security of a water pumping station that we would sleep in the grassy courtyard of the town pumphouse (situated between the park and the lake) instead of the dusty park ground... OK by us. Then our hosts decided that we did not have enough food OR company so off they went again for reinforcements. They returned shortly with warm sandwiches and an impressively packed car. Our numbers we now in the double digits and our stomachs were definitely full.

After our night by the pump house we had a pleasant three day ride into Thessaloniki. Those days of riding took us over some of our hardest and most beautiful climbs as we crossed the Olympic mountain range. The long, fast coasts on the back sides of the mountains were always worth the effort, though one proved to be too much for Dave's rear wheel as he broke a spoke while braking before one of the hairpin turns. We then spent the greater part of the morning attempting to fix the wheel ourselves even though we lacked both the correct spoke length and the necessary tools for the job. Eventually we decided it best to find a bike shop in the nearby city of Katarini.

With the new spoke installed we headed onward for Thessaloniki and arrived in good time the next day. In Thessaloniki we explored the city by foot, enjoyed more Greek food and found Dave a more substantial wheel strengthened with 36 spokes instead of 32 like his old wheel had as well as more tools so we will be better equipped should a problem arise again. Leaving the city was not a pleasant experience as Salonika (as the city is also known) is nestled nicely between the sea and a low range of mountains which are not very fun to cross alongside city traffic.

Once the climb was over and we were off the major road we decided to stop in a small town's grocery store for some dinner. It was here that we encountered our second notable display of Greek hospitality. After our groceries were paid for, the owner of the store added some extra food to our bags and invited us to his wife's cafe across the town, or to describe the size of the village I should say, on the other side of the street. In the cafe we enjoyed tall glasses of frappe (cold frothy coffee) and good conversation with our new Greek friend and his German wife. We spent our time talking about travel philosophy, the importance of hospitality, and both international and local politics.

After a lengthy amount of time spent in the cafe, our new friends gave us directions to a nice roadside campsite complete with running water and picnic tables. The next day we woke early and finished the climb out of the Strymonas River valley and enjoyed our last large descent in Greece. After a filling lunch we spun out the remaining flats through a gap in the mountains to Bulgaria!

The border crossing went very smoothly with the only hangup being how very little I look like my passport photo which was taken when I was in the tenth grade and had bleached and very short hair. From the border it was only three day's ride to get into the Bulgarian capital city of Sofia. Here we plan to spend some time reorganizing, exploring the city with its many churches and mosques, and preparing for our next leg of the journey.

Our plan for the next week or so is to take public transportation from Sofia south west into Kosovo where we will visit the family of a friend of ours from EMU and the family of a co-worker of Dave's who both live in Pristina. From there we will continue by public transportation north to portions of Serbia that we are hoping to be more ideal for traveling by bicycle.

A Tale of Three Bikes

Looking back, our final weekend in Harrisonburg last October was a blur. With hope of what was to come, Dave and I had endured a long, exhausting summer of work; earning money and staying up late planning for the year ahead. Once all was finished at home, we jumped in my Pontiac Sunfire and headed down to Harrisonburg, VA on our way south to Mexico. That was seven months ago, and despite traveling thousands of miles, I haven't driven a car since.

At some point during the craziness of that weekend, I managed to work out a last minute deal to sell my car to a fellow student. Not only would a car be completely unneccesary for the next year, I could use the extra money for other things. Like a bicycle. So within a few hours after completing the paperwork for my car, I walked to the East Coast Bicycle Shop to see what was available. Knowing very little about road bikes, I took along Dave and Kurt (who is now traveling with us) to provide some knowledgable advice. Fortunately, we discovered that they had the perfect bike for me... a Fuji touring design, loaded with extras, for an unbeatable price. Since the new models had already arrived, it was the only one left and they were eager to sell. It was the kind of bike that could get me across Eastern Europe, plus provide years of virtually free transportation once I return.

So I bought the bike, even knowing that it would be several months until I would see it again. Not wanting to see my investment sit idle for so long, I decided to leave it at EMU so that it would get some use. I'm not sure who all has ridden it, but from what I hear, the bike has even been through Everglades National Park and seen an alligator up close... Which is sort of how the box looked when it arrived at Athens airport last week... But despite the mangled appearance of the box, the bike inside still looked like new and has been riding very nicely since the start of our trip.

Although Dave has owned his bike since he was 14, it has probably covered more ground in the last few months than at any other time in its history. After being transported down to Harrisonburg by Dave's sister, Maria, it also remained there for several months while Kurt made some repairs and outfitted it for touring. In early March, Laura and Alethia graciously agreed to bring the bike over with them when they visited us in Israel.

So the bike was boxed up, only to be unboxed for transport in Alethia's car up to Lancaster, where it was boxed up again to send on the plane. It was then driven to JFK airport and checked in at the airline counter. After a stressful experience in Zurich explaining to the security officials that they were indeed carrying a bike with them, they eventually arrived in Tel-Aviv, where Linford Stutzman took over. He took the bike with him on a bus to the marina in Ashkelon. And the story isn't over!

Once in Ashkelon, Dave's bike was unpacked, taken apart, and placed down in a storage hold in the bottom of the sailboat. It remained there for the duration of our time sailing, crossing the open sea to Cyprus and then along the Turkish coast. Upon our arrival in Kusadasi, Dave eagerly pulled the bike out, assembled it again, and took it for several short test runs. From Turkey, we took it on a small ferry to Samos, and then stowed it away again for the overnight ferry trip to Athens. Finally arriving in Athens, Dave wheeled the bike onto the Metro, where he was informed that he must take the wheels off before boarding. Having come this far, we of course complied and were soon in our downtown hostel. The manager agreed to let us keep the bikes in a downstairs storage area, which quickly filled up with gear and spare parts once Kurt arrived. Already with a wealth of traveling experience under its belt, Dave's bike is now tuned up and ready for the next stage of its incredible journey.

Kurt Rosenberger, a friend of ours from EMU, isn't new to the world of travel or bicycling. Although in the class two years behind us, we quickly began to recognize the friendly guy from State College, PA, who insisted on riding his bike all around campus. It was during our senior year, after Kurt returned from a cross-cultural to the Middle East, that we began to discuss the possibility of him joining us for a portion of our trip. He soon agreed that it was a good idea, provided we traveled by bicycle. During many long hours of working on Dave's sailboat together, the idea was solidified and Kurt began to make plans for spending two months of his summer with us in Europe. In fact, since our access to planning resources is quite limited, Kurt has done much of the research and organization for this portion of our trip.

Kurt arrived in Athens last week sporting long hair pulled back in a ponytail and a two large bike boxes. The one was mine, and the other was a new Surly frame that he had recently built in anticipation of this trip. Many of the components are from his racing bike at home. A stylish dark green, it has blended in quite nicely with the lush Mediterranaean landscape of the region. Although he is still making some adjustments to get the right fit, it seems to be working quite nicely thus far.

Aside from the bikes, Kurt brings a refreshing energy and enthusiasm to travel that Dave and I sometimes lose sight of. Our travel can often become very repititive, and so a different form of transportation and a new face have provided us with the fresh perspective that we needed. It's not always easy for someone to join a trip in the middle of it, but we have no doubts that Kurt will be a good fit. And of course, if our bikes break down (which they will!), there are very few other guys I'd rather have around at that moment...!

It has now been almost a week since we packed up our panniers, saddled up, and rode out of Athens. Our first stop on the way out was the old Olympic stadium, where we posed for pictures and focused ourselves for the madenning mid-day traffic of the city. It really didn't turn out as bad as we thought, and by the end of the day we were out of the city and approaching the town of Marathon (where the first Olympic "marathon" started from).

Leaving Marathon the next day, we attempted to ride out along the coast and quickly found that just because a road is on the map, doesn't mean that its good for riding. Much of the Greek coastline is quite rugged, and so the majority of the following day was spent pushing our bikes up and down gravelly, washed-out roads. As the orange glow of evening approached and our odometers displayed our dismal progress for the day, we took comfort in remembering some of our Bible triva from Sunday School class. Even without the gold thing, at least the streets of heaven are paved!

We found a piece of heaven the following day, as we got on one of the major roads heading north and made substantial progress. With snow-capped moutains on either side, we glided through a beautiful valley of wheat and olive trees. And suprisingly, the traffic was manageable and the road conditions excellent. Basically, the past few days have been absolutely ideal for touring.

Of course, Dave and I have been sitting on a sailboat for the past month, and therefore the past week hasn't been without a bit of pain. Yesterday we spent the morning ascending our first major pass (1200m) which presented a bit of a challenge. And that afternoon, on the plains south of Larisa we encountered a strong headwind which made for difficult going. So we stopped in a small agricultural village, received permission from the mayor to camp in the town park, and had a refreshing night of rest. Despite starting off with very little training, we find ourselves getting a bit stronger each day. Each day we go a little farther, feel more comfortable, and gain a bit more confidence.

One week into this tour from Athens to Frankfurt, I must say that overall things are going better than expected. Having ridden a total of about 5 hours on a road bike prior to this trip, each day is a new experience for me. Committing myself to two months of cycling without really knowing what it was about was a definite source of anxiety in the past few months. However, if the first week is any indication, this is going to be a wonderful experience. The company is good, the scenery incredible, the form of transportation ideal. I'm gradually becoming convinced that the pace provided by a bicycle provides the perfect balance of covering ground, yet having lots of opportunity to experience the local culture and meet people along the way. And the best part is that it doesn't cost a thing to operate!

Today we took a break and spent half a day doing some writing, bike maintenance, and internet work. We anticipate continuing north out of Larisa this afternoon, finding a campsite somewhere out of the city. From there, its a long day over the Olympic Mountains before we reach Thessaloniki. If our current pace continues, we should be entering Bulgaria within the next 4 to 5 days.

Transitions: Buses squared plus Boats squared equals Bicycles cubed

---> Cappadocian Caves

As our sailing career came to an end, we once again set out as we started, as two backpackers on a bus heading to unfamiliar destinations. We decided to spend our last week in Turkey backpacking the Cappadocia region, away from the touristy coast, right smack in the center of the country. We had read about exotic rock formations, ferry chimneys, and underground cities, located in what was described as a "backpacker's" paradise awaiting the end of a 15 hour bus ride. It is important to say that we were not disappointed.

We stocked up with a day's supply of food and headed off into one of the valleys descending from the small town of Goreme, stepping into another world. Dotting the countryside were strange conical and cylindrically shaped rock formations, a combination of eroded sandstone and volcanic rock. Within most of these structures were carved out doors, windows, entire rooms that were accessible and inviting exploration. It is difficult to really describe what this place looks like, so you might be better off checking out the photo galleries on the website.

Throughout the day we hiked passed a UFO museum, over and around this moonscape, eventually deciding to camp out in a cave on the upper side of a canyon overlooking the valley. Overnight we encountered something that we had not seen in a while...snow! It caught us completely by surprise as we woke up early to see a white coating covering the ground. We were thankful that back in the cave the ground temperature and our good sleeping bags kept us warm throughout the night.

The next few days were spent and exploring and absorbing the incredible and unusual quality of the region. Another morning we awoke to the sound of hot air balloons firing only 50 feet above our convertible tent. Looking up, we saw hands and faces pointing down at us as a series of about a dozen balloons floated over the ridge. A few days and many photos later, we caught the bus back to Kusadasi on the western coast, ready to move westward..

---> www.CyClown.org

While waiting for the customs officials at the port leaving Turkey, we met an unusual cyclist traveling on the same ferry as us. Jimmy, originally from London, has been traveling for three years as a Cyclown. His homemade bicycle consists of two frames welded together, one directly on top of the other and loaded with crates and boxes of eclectic gear, including a mandolin, clarinet and hand-made paper sword, which he told us was for his protection (check the site for a photo). Jimmy's bike immediately caught our attention, as well as his friendly personality.

We learned that he earns his living doing freelance circus performance as a street musician and puppeteer, as well as being part of a jazz band based in Berlin. As we were arriving in Samos, he gave a short performance to the ferry passengers in which he earned a few Euros and a meat and cheese sandwich. After arriving on the Greek Island of Samos and watching his bizarre bicycle pass through customs, we said our goodbyes and continued on our travels.

---> Cycling Samos

We were fortunate enough to have a half day on the Greek island of Samos, located only miles from Turkey and famous for its legendary resident, Pythagoras. The mathematician, inventor and academic monk is probably most well known for his theorem explaining how the length of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the square root of the sum of the squares of the other two sides. Remember your high school geometry? He also invented an interesting wine cup intended to prevent greedy workers from getting more than there due share, in which after the liquid level reaches a certain point, the entire contents of the cup will drain out right into your lap.

Since I was traveling with my bicycle and a little conditioning wouldn't hurt to prepare myself on the next few months, I decided to ride around and explore the northern coastline of the island. The islands are definitely one of the highlights of Greece, and there is no better way to explore them than on your own power. The warmth of a beautiful spring day with the smells of flowers and pine forests made for a wonderful ride, although it was important to take caution with the road rage of some tour bus drivers. Later in the afternoon we caught an overnight ferry to Pireas, the port of Athens, bicycle and all.

---> An Aegean Cross Cultural

Our first night in Athens we met up with the EMU Aegean cross cultural, and were excited to meet familiar faces as well as a few new ones. The group of 12 students will spend the next three weeks in Greece and Turkey with their leaders Linford and Janet Stutzman, learning by exploration and ocean sailing. Eric and I sat in on an orientation meeting, sharing a little about our sailing and traveling experiences with the group. Afterwards, we headed down to the Placa for a Greek kebab dinner with Jeff Mumaw, one of my high school teachers who is now studying at Eastern Mennonite Seminary, and Steve Horst, a friend of ours from EMU.

The following day there was a nationwide strike in Greece, shutting down all public transportation including the metro, buses, and air traffic controllers. The cross cultural group had chartered a bus, so fortunately they were still able to make the trip out to the town of Corinth. We were invited to come along with the group for the day, and we welcomed the opportunity for some learning and fellowship.

Corinth sits on an ancient land bridge that is now a modern day canal and contains impressive ruins from the thriving ancient city. Except for Ephesus, Paul invested more time here than any other city, and wrote two letters to the church which are now known as the books of I & II Corinthians. Unfortunately the strike also kept us from entering the ruins, but we were still able to see them from outside the fences. We also hiked up a hill to the remains of a fortress atop, providing a spectacular view of the rugged landscape and sea.

---> Catching and Continuing with Kurt

Our friend Kurt Rosenberger will be joining us in our travels for the next two and a half months as we ride bicycles from Athens to Germany. Kurt's plane was scheduled to arrive in Athens on the same day as the strike, which could have had interesting complications for our rendezvous. Without public transportation, we were limited in our ability to travel and Kurt's potential for delays greatly increased. Fortunately we were able to reach him by email and give him a heads up before he flew from the US. And thankfully, Kurt pulled into Athens with only a few hours delay and arrived safely last night at our hostel.

After spending a day packing the bikes and running a few last minute errands, we will ship our backpacks ahead to Germany and begin cycling tomorrow morning to catch up to them in July. Our intended route is to ride through the countries of Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia, Slovakia, Hungary, Austria, Czeck Republic, Poland and Germany. We plan to spend a lot of time off the beaten track, exploring and camping in this new part of the world.

This point in the trip is definitely one of transition. We are familiar leaving cultures and countries and traveling into parts of the world in which we have very little knowledge and experience. We are excited to bring our trip to a new stage and ready for all of the adventure that comes with doing something new. We're ready to start pedaling; there is a long road ahead.

Where You From?

For the past month, Dave and I have lived in a boat. Each day we eat, sleep, read, walk around, and even use the bathroom... all inside our floating fiberglass shell. Like a rare variety of aquatic sea turtle, our home is always with us. We travel from place to place along the coast, never needing to go through the tiring routine of packing and unpacking. I'll admit that sometimes the boat feels cramped, and other times a bit more unstable than my stomach would desire. But this is a small price to pay. We have traveled along the coasts of three different countries for nearly 800 miles, and yet still managed to wake up every morning in the same bed. Our home is with us, no matter where we go. This is the novelty of traveling by boat.

On Thursday afternoon of last week we arrived in Kusadasi, our final port of call onboard Sailing Acts. With a strong wind filling our sails, we glided into the large harbor and tied up to the dock in near effortless fashion. This is often one of the most difficult aspects of sailing, but we have had many opportunities to practice. Only minutes after Linford had beautifully maneuvered us into the berth, Janet was already preparing a celebratory snack. Afterwards, we set out in our customary walk around town.

Kusadasi is a city designed for tourists. It is a maze of shops, restaurants, and travel agencies, all nestled as close to the waterfront as possible. Nearly every morning, a new cruise ship has pulled into port, unloading its cargo of walking dollar signs into the nearby streets. Fortunately for us, we have arrived early in the season, before the cruise industry really gets underway and crowds swamp the streets. Unfortunately for us, this means that with fewer tourists around, we are an obvious target for local businessmen eager to get the year off to a good start.

As we walked down the main street of town, touts from the local restaurants would inevitably notice our presence and come out to greet us on the sidewalk. Of course, no one likes a pushy salesman. So many of these friendly entrepreneurs have learned the art of first developing a relationship, and once your guard is let down, nailing you with the sales pitch. By far the most popular way to initiate such friendly conversations is by a simple question: "Where are you from?" Most people, eager to talk about their home country, fall for the trap and are soon paying ridiculous amounts of money for a mediocre dinner of fish and chips.

As budget travelers to the extreme, we have learned to be wary of these sidewalk salesmen and their sneaky tricks. Ocassionally, however, we do find it amusing to join in and play their game. The ball gets rolling with the typical question regarding our nationallity. Usually preferring to be honest, we respond that we are in fact Americans. The way this news is received is difficult to put into words, yet almost always the same. There is usually a slight pause, an awkward shift in body movement, and then some kind of obviously forced response, as if we somehow left them speechless by our answer. The best way to describe the look on the local's face at this moment is a combination of disbelief, hesitation, and grief.

Now having been traveling for over six months, we have grown accustomed to this kind of response to our status as American citizens. As far back as Mexico, one of our bus drivers (after discovering our nationality), encouraged us simply to tell people that "we're not from around here." Not only is the United States a very unpopular country around the world, there simply aren't many Americans getting out beyond their own borders these days. Before meeting a young couple from California a few days ago, I honestly can't remember the last American travelers we've crossed paths with. It is a sad reality that was also confirmed by a local shop owner here in Kasadasi a few days ago. He shared with us how when he was a child, he remembered how there were more Americans traveling around than people from any other country. Now, it seems, Americans are simply staying at home.

As a result of this fact, people rarely assume that we are Americans until we tell them. So Dave and I have begun keeping track of our current nationality in the eyes of the locals. In South America, we were often being mistaken for Germans or sometimes Swedes (Dave particularly!). Upon our arrival in Turkey, we have become Australians. "Hey, Auzzies!" is the current shout as we walk down the sidewalk. Maybe it's our long hair... Whatever the reason, you can find our latest nationality on the Stats page of the website.

A few days ago, we took a bus from Kusadasi several miles inland to the impressive ruins of Ephesus. One of the most important Roman cities of ancient Asia Minor, it was also a home to the apostle Paul's missionary efforts for three years. Although I've learned many things from following Paul's paths for the last month, there is one thing that particularly stands out to me. Not only was Paul a very gifted evangelist, he was a model traveler. For the better part of his life, he was either covering rugged terrain by foot or experiencing the unique challenges of traveling by sea. Not to mention the lashings and beatings, which would certainly be a setback to even the most seasoned traveler! And yet Paul pushed on, bringing the good news of the gospel to the western world.

Given his unique identity as both a Jew and a Roman citizen, no doubt Paul was also faced with questions about his citizenship. Unlike most others in the world at the time, Paul was a Roman citizen, a status that brought with it privalege and power. But I would imagine that as Paul traveled the vast Roman empire, even he felt the lonely feeling of being a stranger in a foreign land. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul uses the imagery that probably comes directly from his experiences as a traveler: "...you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens..." (Eph 2:19). As a fellow traveler, I find it easy to appreciate the type of citizenship that he is referring to, one that is not limited to national boundaries or political ideologies. Citizenship in a Kingdom that brings together instead of seperates, where home can be experienced no matter where find ourselves.

According to Page 5 of our U.S. passports, any American citizen can formally renounce their citizenship before an overseas consulate. While this would probably not be in our best interest, it has generated a considerable amount of creative thinking in the last few weeks. What if we could simply pronounce ourselves "Global Citizens", and develop some kind of passport that would be free from national affiliation or endorsement? A citizen of no particular country, and a friend towards all... It seems that this might bring a few more favorable responses to the "Where you from?" question than our current answer. And I think its probably a closer resemblance to the Kingdom citizenship that Paul was talking about as well.

With our time aboard Sailing Acts at a close, Dave and I are now returning to our traditional form of travel: backpacks, public transportation, and camping. After thanking Linford and Janet by giving the boat a thorough wash and wax, on Monday morning we took a bus to the Cappadocia region of central Turkey. We will remain here for a few days before returning to Kusadasi and boarding a ferry for Athens, Greece. I guess we'll have to use our passports for that one...