Croatia continued.

Croatia continued.
Leaving Dubrovnik was easy and mostly painless. The roads seem to get better as we go, wider and with less crazy traffic. Maybe having a jersey pocket full of Gummi Bears has changed my attitude and perception of the universe a bit for the better and brighter. After having almost fatally fretted about Shannon's broken shifting lever, after trying desperately to find any bicycle shop at all listed anywhere in all of Croatia, and finally coming to the conclusion that we were just going to have to limp along as best we could until a bigger town came along, or Italy, I ran out of things to truly fret about and realized that we were riding along the beautiful Mediterranean. I don't low how I failed to see it. There it is. Quite lovely. Photos to follow.
We rode out of Dubrovnik yesterday towards our next hoped for camp site. There was promise of camping ahead, but a bit of a gap until they appeared. We rode yesterday our longest mileage of our trip so far. We hit the wall and the 76 mile mark, luckily at about the same time. We rolled in to a camp area that, like all, was "open" in that there was nothing ready, no one there, and we had it all to ourselves as the camp staff/owners ran about preparing for later when tourists actually arrive. In droves. We decided to give our legs a rest day since the next camps shouldn't be quite as far to reach and to take in another day of sunshine and beach enjoyment. Photos to follow, when and if we get wifi again.


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Croatia

We crossed the border from Montenegro into Croatia and the sun came out like magic. We found a camp grounds with washing machines and driers, also, like magic. We camped and woke early to the sounds of heavy rain and wind. It passed and cleared and it's been all sun since. The only dark cloud has been one of Shannon's shifters breaking beyond my abilities, even with magic or black magic, and so we have had to use some rigging and special pit stops to keep moving and make our way. Speaking of which we are leaving in the morning from Dubrovnik on towards somewhere, hopefully with few hills and much sunshine. Again, I have photos to add but my iPhone continues to not be able to see wireless, which is less than ideal and so it is random and less than often that I can post them to the blog. It tends to make the blog more interesting, or confusing, and less linear. Hopefully you all enjoy that as much as I do not. Kotor was great and gentle and mind blowing. We saw some good friends from the ice two days ago and had a fantastic day of being tourists in old town Dubrovnik. After that and since then we have either spent a lot of time fretting about the broken shifter or trying desperately even out our grotesque bicycling tans. Very much effort, very little success. Just to answer a possibly burning question in many a mind, yes, I am enjoying the trip, though I tend to write in the language of complaint, and even though it is quite hard, this trip, I am enjoying it, in my own way, and wouldn't care to be anywhere else at this time. In case you were wondering or that question arose in your mind.

Croatia sunshine snacktime

Katie, Bamma and the Mouse

Pretty much true

Dubrovnik campsite

Old town

Kotor

Kotor

Kotor

Kotor

Kotor

Kotor

Forecast etc

Always this

Regret list continued

Regret list continued
Extra brake pads
Subtle hat to Shanfu.

Causality list cont.
Shannon's prescription sunglasses, run over by bus in Montenegro. Fortunately not while she was wearing them.

Driven

Say what you will about the drivers and driving in Albania. I mean it. We were warned about the drivers and driving in Albania. They weren't exceptional in safety. The many many roadside memorial monuments attested to that fact. They were cooperative in an anarchic way. Even at high speed on a thin road the drivers would give room to a donkey driven cart, or one of the improvised motorcycle-halfcarts. And to us. We were rarely crowded. We were given the friendly honk on a regular basis. Sometimes too often. After 50 plus miles of dragging a trailer with sore bum and sore hands even a friendly honk would sometimes set my teeth on edge. Or I would bare them in a less friendly response. People in Albania were almost all surprisingly friendly, even assaultively so at times. Immediately after crossing the border in to Montenegro things change. It is tidier, cleaner, prettier, not quite as friendly, and the drivers don't honk as often out of friendliness. They do not share the road. This place could use several 'share the road with bicyclists' stickers. Or, at least a 'don't aim for the bicyclist' stickers. I also came to a universal realization. I was never sure about this but had always guessed that people who drive BMW cars and Audi cars were not just complete and total inconsiderate jerk wads in the states. Now I have proof. Of all the worst, fastest, most selfish and inconsiderate drivers that we have comes across, who have buzzed us, and have acted like complete and entirely terrible human beings, it has 100 per cent always been German driven cars. The breakdown has been 65% BMW, 39% Audi and 13% Mercedes. It became even more starkly apparent and clear once we started riding in Montenegro. I realized that those cars were equipped and filled with air bags as well as douche bags. A non safe combination, at least for us. We've ridden something around 500miles so far and very few of those miles were flat or in the sun. My fingers are crossed for the next 500 being a bit more sun shiny.

Epitome

Ultimate perfect meal

Bordering Montenegro

Parking

Lunch with Zamir

Shkoder outskirts

Long road edge

Bunkeryard Albania

Dures

3rd whirled

No road Albania

Clatter

The guidebook says that traveling in Greece and in Albania in early and mid April is ideal as it is far less crowded. What they neglect to mention, especially for Greece, is that nothing at all is open at that time of the season. The plus side is that we have had almost every camping grounds to ourselves and most hotels as well. Like a ghost town usually. Thanks guidebook.

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Swarm of bees

We passed a couple of dark decisive days in the city of Vlore, but also had a nice lunch. We were on the verge of using an escape pod in the form of a ferry to Italy but both had coincidental night-thoughts and reconsidered. The weather was meant to be just as rainy if not more so, and we are both stubborn enough that we wanted to see Albania through to the end. We had made it through the mountains and were heading to the flats and felt like we could finish it out, for good or bad.
Our last night in the Vlore was a restless one at best. It turned out to be Easter maybe and much of the celebrating outside seemed to involve shooting off explosives randomly and through out the night. I had insomnia of a tossy turny nature and got a lot of reading done, but failed to sleep very much. I contemplated just about every thing on Earth in the dark hours and left little out. When I finally did surprise myself by falling asleep I was unexpectedly awakened by either celebratory explosives or someone screaming outside like a drunken omega wolf. It turned out that omega wolf was our neighbor and quite possibly American, surely drunk, and obviously having a deep emotional breakdown, meltdown, or cry for help situation. The smoke from his cigarette seeped in to our room. The loud soundtrack to whatever horrible movie he started watching at 4:30am rumbled our walls and caused Shannon to think that it was thundering. Between the soundtrack noise and his continued howling i started to think that our neighbor was possibly part of a Finnish death-metal band on tour. Eventually the movie ended or something, the smoke stopped and we slept for a serene hour before going to get something for breakfast, including many coffees. Leaving, Vlore didn't see us shedding a single tear.
We rode about 60 miles yesterday before I got a flat tire that I had to fix. The wind and rain started shortly after that. We found a place to stay and slept.
Today we rode a hard 45 miles, mostly covered in mud and filth after a trip through Durres, or Durress maybe. Terrible roads and deep puddles greeted us there and we did several hard miles through that town that we shall never speak of again. We made it Lezhe tonight and are about to go see about a bite to eat. I realized yesterday while riding and passing some of the most stagnant and poisonous looking ditch water, passed some very dour people, that if Racine, Wisconsin was a country it would be Albania. Tough place, rough people. The big difference is that people in Albania all seem quite friendly.
Time for food.

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Regret list continued - things I wish I'd brought

1. Much more Dr. Bronner's 2. Should have purchased some Cactus Climbing (tm) pants whilst in New Zealand. http://www.cactusclimbing.co.nz/index.php 3. Multiple size Ziplock (tm) bags. 4. Rock holster.

Raining dogs and lightning rods

Once again we were riding along and Shannon was out front somehow riding passed apathetic looking dogs. They looked cozy under a rock overhang, staying out of the rain. I saw two. Both looked like they had the Albanian ennui really hard. That is until I rode up. Suddenly they were barking. Suddenly there weren't two but a pack had appeared and they had purpose. Me. Me and my hateful trailer were upsetting to them all. I looked back to see them closing in on me, but still far enough for me to take a defensive stance. I put my bike down in the mud and picked up some big rocks and began hurling them with all of my force. The dogs immediately rethought their position and passion for biting me or my trailer. They retreated. Yay! monkey wins! This time. We rode in to Vlore on one of the worst roads I have ever seen. Giant potholes and open sewer drains, in a down pour. Giant deep puddles hiding even bigger potholes as the Vlorian drivers ignored it all and drove anywhere they saw an opening, or not, somehow smoking and on a cell phone all at once. Pretty much all nerve wracking and white knuckle inducing. There isn't anything but rain forecast in every direction in the beautiful Mediterranean. Cool temperatures prevail. Our clothing is becoming more roomy, on the plus side of things, so it isn't all bleak and negative. I have a super sweet awkward bicycle tan, despite all the days of cloud cover. Things could certainly be worse.

Vlore

Vlore2

V3

Vlore

Casualties list. Not in exact order.

Casualties list. Not in exact order.
1. Broken tent pole/centipede stealth attack aftermath
2. Lost bicycle lock/cold rain big hills aftermath panic
3. Lost Leatherman/nice day snack break aftermath.
4. Torn sleeping bag/ruthless tent zipper attack
5. Dog attack crash/bicycle bash up
6. My enthusiasm

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YardSale

YardSale
We made it up the zig zag switchback mountain from sea level to over 3000 feet tired but unscathed. We made it to a mountain top restaurant in the rain as the cold was getting to us and could see our breath inside the restaurant as we drank little coffees. We made it through another all Albanian conversation in which we were trying to get coffees. We ordered food off of an all in Albanian menu and wound up with delicious meat stew, an omelet each and fries. We packed it in to our bellies. We went back out and got on our bikes in a thick cold fog, already shivering and wet. All the rest of the day's ride was downhill, so cold. We started the steep descents in the fog and had to stop occasionally to let our fingers regain feeling. On a wet, steep, slick downhill a tiny dog came running out of a roadside restaurant and after Shannon's trailer. Albanians and Greeks seem to love our Bob trailers, dogs hate them. A second, bigger dog came out quickly on the heels of the first little dog. The second dog was mad at Shannon's trailer but was just barking til it realized that I was coming along with a second evil wheeled trailer. It immediately came after me barking and trying to attack my calves which I had lifted in to the air in an attempt to keep them from being nipped. I quickly realized that this tactic wasn't going to work and so I stomped the dog in the face. This didn't seem to even faze the dog but I thought it was worth a second go and kick it in the face again. I had picked up speed because I wasn't on my brakes and it was around this time that I saw an oncoming car. I lost control of my bike/rig entirely and was down and sliding across the pavement for what seemed like a long time. The dog lost interest in the whole event and ran back home. The car stopped to see if we needed help, maybe, and I got up to get my rig out of the road as another car was coming.
In the aftermath I tried to warm my fingers up and then surveyed the damage to the bicycle and fixed what I could. Still rideable but definitely fazed.
I despise dogs. Truly and deeply. A cat never would have done that.

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Switchback and forth

Forgetfullfillment

Did someone forget to mention that Albania is incredibly hilly? Blaming others is the only measure I can take at the moment to make myself feel better. Today now marks the hardest day of riding of my life. Luckily I already know that tomorrow is going to quite likely be harder. Mercifully shorter though. I also came to the conclusion, rather coincidentally, that I actually hate bicycle trailers, and bicycle touring. This will come as a surprise to a total of none of my friends. Thanks friends, for telling me how much I would really despise dragging a trailer behind my beloved bicycle like an anchor on a speed boat. A slow speed boat. As the pros like to say, or hate to say, "I was rolling squares today." Shanfu was as well. It was a terribly hard ride for StrikeforceAwesome. We were more like StrikeforceAdvil. God I love Advil.
In conclusion, Sarande Alabania was a big nice surprise and so far I would recommend a trip to Alabania to anyone. Except maybe not bicycle touring, not to my sane friends at least.
We weren't able to get a photo of the pack of junkyard dogs that decided to eat us, nor the wee child who came to our rescue by throwing rocks at them. Too busy scurrying away I guess.

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Squirrel

2

Albanian bunkers

Sorry that this is a bit out of order. I have been having trouble with my iPhone and this was a post that was trapped on it. Hopefully it'll be all smooth sailing now that we are embarking upon the Albania portion of our journey. Hopefully more photos will follow soon.

Regret list

Regret list
1. Did not bring whisky flask.
2. Icebreaker
3. Spd pedals and shoes
4. Lip balm

Firstly

First day riding 45 miles and camping. We are following the euro-velo 8 route from Greece to Spain and possibly flying out of Lisbon, Portugal. So far we are the only ones on this leg of the euro-velo 8 route that we have seen cycling. It is also seemingly possible that no one let Greece know that they are part of the euro-velo 8 route. Someone should let them know. Occasionally we have been waved at and honked at in a friendly way. Several dogs though, at seeing us pass, were displeased and barked menacingly to let us know about it. I also started to feel like many Greek people were seeing two things for the first time. Bob trailers and crazy people. The stopped and stared in seeming mesmerized fascination first at seeing people riding bicycles in Greece and secondly because of the crazy contraption attached to the rear of our bicycles. In Albania we may be actually burned at the stake as witches from what I have heard so far about Albania. Hopefully something other than that occurs.
Also, today I began a "regret list". It could also be titled a lessons learned list. First on the list was not buying more Dr Bronners magical soap. Others are sure to pop up. So far though there is not too much to complain about.
2nd day 26 miles, sweet camp site.
3rd day 20 miles and a ferry ride. Greek people definitively love our Bob trailers. Lots of honks today.

Some prettiness on our all uphill puke fest ride out of.... Somewhere

Same pretty

Plus, I didn't even kill it when I punched the tent floor and instead I slept on it all night.

Rain days and hill climbs

If you were ever wondering to your self, "how could I make Michiel talk" if you found yourself needing answers and felt that coercion might be necessary, I can give you the recipe for how to do it exactly. I shouldn't but I am feeling chatty. Here is the story. We got rained on. I hung a jersey out to dry and it didn't. Shannon brought it in to the tent in the morning. I went to put it on over my head but as I was slipping it on my more perceptive animal brain warned me of something that my regular brain didn't believe was likely. Luckily I hadn't unzipped the top of my cycling jersey so my head wouldn't fit and I had to take the jersey off to unzip it. As I pulled it back off something fell out of the jersey that and that something was of my nightmares. I fought with it, ran from it, struggled with it, and all within a little tent. I was making terrified monkey noises the whole time. Shannon believed at I was wrestling, apparently by myself. She is very accepting of my eccentricities. I got the monster out of the tent and it ran under the tent. I punched the tent floor trying to convince it that it wouldn't really like to live under the tent because it was apparently always going to be being punched. It would not come out and I wouldn't go in after it. A few more punches and Shannon came over to find out why I was sweating and generally freaking out, or, why this time. I told her in my shrill frantic voice, "it was six inches long! And in my jersey when I went to put it on!" Now I check all of my clothing twice and then Shannon's before either of us are allowed to get dressed. So, if the world gets all Orwellian and I am eventually taken to the "room with no shadows" you can tell them how they can get any answers that they may wish out of me. It turned out to be only five inches or so, by the way. A photo to follow.

Kefallonia tent time Banangrams

Ferry

3rd day - on ferry out of Patra to Kefallonia 20 miles riding, 2 1/2 hours ferrying

2nd camp Tsolis campground 26 mile ride

First camp - 45 mile ride

First camp - perfect meal

1st day riding out of Loutraki