Greece from the perspective of the turtle

Arriving in the Greek Igoumunitsa, the problem with the GS seems to be solved soon. The intake manifolds were not tight. Now the mountains in the north are immediately targeted. I want to cross the country from northwest to northeast and avoid the coast. Wonderful! No oncoming traffic for hours. The narrow winding mountain roads belong only to me. And some goats. And sleepy-looking dogs, who do not interrupt their siesta on the asphalt. And turtles. In calmness, they mate right in the middle of the road. Inattentive drivers would have two on their vegetarian conscience.

BAKER INSTEAD OF BEAR

Is it wise to look for a place for the tent? Signs indicate unmistakably that here, in the far northwest of Greece, bears and wolves would share the solitude of the forest with me. In a tiny mountain village, I ask for a hotel nearby. Laughter. There is nothing like that in the entire region. The village men decide: I will be accommodated above a bakery, and the motorcycle can slumber under the arcades of the mayor's office.

In the next two days, I pass through barren mountains, cherry growing areas, forgotten villages, and a surreal landscape where the roads abruptly end behind the villages. Cables from high-voltage pylons block them, behind them, the torn earth of a lignite mining area. My navigation system leads me through this, after all, I have entered Adventure Routing and 'Unpaved Roads'. Until I realize that this function leads me through every muddy path that can be bypassed with asphalt, I find myself in sweaty situations regularly.