Day 17: Himare to Elena's Beach, Plataria, (Greece)

I wake very early. Today's the day that I finally make it to Greece. I'm quite excited by the thought. Greece...on a Honda 90!

I start packing but notice with dismay that the gates are still chained. I'm going to have to wait. One by one the Czech campers stumble out of their tents, some a little worse for wear after their night of partying. They'd clearly been talking about the crazy Englishman and his little bike.  A few came over to ask about the bike and my journey.

Petr, a fellow biker offers a place to stopover if I'm near his home in the Czech republic. I may be passing fairly close so I take his address and thank him for his kindness.

The mosquitoes are now out in force. I've already got a few red bites and they're starting to itch. I slap DEET all over my exposed skin and remind myself to use the mosquito net tonight.

I ride out of the campsite to waves and wishes of a safe journey. It's good to be on the move again. The wind whistles in my helmet. If I keep it shut in this humid air, the visor mists up. If I open it wide I get a blast of air in the eyes so I leave it open just a small crack. The result is a slightly eery whistling wail. I turn on Greek rembetika music to drown it out. I feel elated... I really will be in Greece soon.

I turn a corner as I ride on a narrow back lane into the hills. A policeman steps behind his car, guiltily stamping out his cigarette. This is obviously a nice place to hide away for a while, away from the duties down in the town. During the day you do pass police, always in pairs, at the side of the road. They don't have anything technical. No radar traps, no ANPR, but the do have small wooden lollipops with 'Stop' written on them in Albanian. They step in front of an approaching vehicle and hold it out with as much authority as a small wooden lollipop can command. I haven't been lollipopped so far.

The road is steep and twisting with large cliffs on the left and infinity to the right.  There's nothing to stop you falling several hundred metres to the rocks below if you mis-judge a bend or get too close to the rough stony verge. I slow down.

In the remoter areas are dogs left to guard the flocks. Big burly animals with rough coats and often showing the signs of conflict - with predators and vehicles. Mostly they just watch suspiciously as I pass.  I return the suspicion, giving them a wide pass. Sometimes, as happens twice this morning, they chase, snapping at my legs as I try to accelerate away.

I start to come down from the hills and see a small village, just a few rough houses in the distance. I see a shepherd with his whip of a stick watching me approach at the side of the road. He has two of the same kind of dogs with him - one on the left of the road and one by him, on the right. They crouch a little and stare at me. The one on the right starts to come towards me so I lean and steer away, accelerating to avoid the inevitable snapping teeth. As I do, Another dog runs out from behind the man. I hadn't seen it until it was too late. It runs straight under my front wheel.

My handlebars jerk sharply and the bike starts to tip. I feel the bike thump as it runs over the dog.  I manage to stay upright and brake hard to a stop.  I hear the howling  and turn to look back. The poor dog is clearly hurt and is limping and hunched as it tries to get to the other dogs. I start to get off the bike but the  shepherd waves insistently for me to go on. Not knowing what else to do, I ride on, stunned by the suddenness and horror of the moment. Shit, shit, shit.

I just want to move on. Get to Greece and leave this behind me.

The road I'm on is collapsing. There are rockfalls; boulders lie around corners, great cracks appear in the tarmac. Part of the road has fallen away, leaving just enough for a car to get through. I watch as a heavy lorry weaves around the abyss, sending yet more of the road down into the valley.

Without much ceremony, I leave Albania and enter Greece. A quick flick through the passport, a scan in some machine and a smiling Greek guard waves me on.

It's rush hour for goats just on the other side of the border. A steady stream of the hairy mountain goats cross the road in front of me, and I wait to let them pass. There's no hurry now. I'm here.

The landscape is suddenly dominated by lush, well tended olive and orange groves. There's a strong scent of blossom. A small tractor driver gives a hand signal left! A scooter rider is wearing a helmet.  Things seem more organised, well looked after.

Elena's is an idyllic campsite by a large shallow bay.  I'm welcomed into the restaurant / bar / reception and sit for a cold Mythos beer before pitching the tent by the waterside. It's time for a celebration - I've  made  it  to  Greece.

The rest of the night involves the restaurant, taramasalata, moussaka & very cold retsina, a distinctive pine tinged white wine popular in Greece.

Despite the wine, I remember to hang the mosquito net and tuck it under the mattress ready for a long, slightly retsina-tipsy sleep.