Day 22: A second day in Stylida

For the first time on this journey, I'm going to stay two days in the same place. It's so good not to have to pack and move on in the morning.
I can lie in, chill & plan the day.
There's a shiny coachload of children from a Montessori school in Thessaloniki staying  at the campsite overnight. As I expected, a few children were crying in the night. The camp owner is confident that they'd be fine because their parents are with them, but as it turned out, the parents were in the bar until three in the morning and a few of the children were wailing "Mama!" with no-one ready to comfort them.  That Nightbeep bird was back as well.  I expect it's following me. Why don't birds sleep at night in this region?

The sun rises above the trees. I'm waiting to get my stinky clothes into the single washing machine that this site has.  Not reading Greek very well, I managed to mess up the cycle of someone else's laundry in an attempt to open the door. I couldn't see the washing already in the machine  as the room was pitch black.

Now, there's an odd juxtaposition of sounds providing a backdrop to my relaxation in the shade. There's the Greek Orthodox priest's amplified chanting from the nearby red-roofed church, reminiscent of the Muslim call to prayer I heard earlier in Albania, intermingled with the disco tunes played for the Montessori children, overlaid with the incessant Greek rambling of the DJ.
"Everyone's a winner!",  "Pamé!" "Shake your booty!" "Maria, Spiros, Theo, Mario...", "Okay!"

Greek orthodox dub dance music. I think I've discovered a new genre.

I check over  the bike. The plug is a little black showing it's running a bit rich. Too much fuel, too little oxygen. It may be due to the altitude, but now that I'm now down at sea level it should have cleared to a light grey. I'll clean the plug and adjust the carburettor.  My MPG is down a little - to 120 from 130, so maybe that's a symptom. I'll see how it goes tomorrow on the run to Litochoro.

Our fuel stats so far:
Average economy: 130.34 mpg
Min.  MPG:  110.69 mpg
Max:  MPG:  172.97 mpg (long descent from mountains)
Distance driven: 2632 miles
Fuel purchased: 91.8 litres
Fuel cost: £123 (roughly...converting between a few currencies)

Grief... this Honda is cheap to run. 

I  walk to the shops. The same dogs stare at me. They seem to be guarding a minimarket. Well  done dogs. I won't be going there.
At another shop a few streets further on, I bought squid, tomatoes and ouzo. They didn't have bread. That's my excuse.  They only had dry stuff which is like cardboard.

I buy a large pack of cheap salami.  On the way back I wait, almost hopefully, until I meet the dogs from yesterday. I bite a chunk of the cheap salami off and throw it towards the gutter. The dogs rush towards the meat. They're hungry.  The bigger one looks at me. There's a feeling that we have an agreement. I throw a little more just for him - or her. Many of these feral dogs show the signs of raising pups. More problems for the future.

In the low sun. The last of the yummy mummies drink their cocktails from jam jars with green plastic straws and watch in a disinterested way, their increasingly bored children, now tended by weary fathers with sunglasses pushed back on their shaved foreheads.
Slowly,  they slip out of the scene, leaving the stage.  They head home. The shadows engulf  me and the few hangers-on who remain for the evening.