Days 29, 30 and 31: Coming home

Already before the trip I decided that I would not take a plane back home from where I will have arrived at. A trip like that ends to abruptly if you get back home in no time. I think my mind needed the slowness of getting back to give it some chance to digest the trip itself. Maybe I also wanted the trip back to be longer to make my journey to Greece seem longer as well.

I had booked my ferry ticket from Igoumenitsa to Venice when I arrived there and then spent my one and half resting days on the Island of Korfu. Getting back to Igoumenitsa was a bit of work. After I woke up, had a swim and breakfast I rested a bit more in my room as my ferry was scheduled for 1:30 on Tuesday morning or night. I left the hotel at around 11:00 and cycled to Lefkimmi from where a ferry would take me back to the mainland. Once again I realised why cycling around noon is not a good idea. The 200 vertical metres it took me to get back to the mainroad took quite some sweat out of me. When I arrived in Lefkimmi I spent about two hours in a bar to waste some time. At some point I went to the port and booked the ferry for 15:30. It took about an hour to get to Igoumentisa. There I cycled around a bit, again to bridge the time and spend time in a café. When I ordered some juice in English the young waiter asked me if I spoke German, too? I was surprised. Usually German is not the language learned by the younger generation anymore. It turned out that Leo, the waiter, used to live in Munich in the same street that I lived in. We were practically neighbours at some point. The world is small.

At around 8 pm I went to a restaurant, had fried squid for the last time, and then went to the port terminal at around 10 to check in. The check in personal let me know that the ferry is delayed and will not leave until 4:30. In the café I had booked a bus that would also transport my bicycle for 4:25 the next day. With 3 hours delay I wouldn’t make that bus. I cancelled and tried to find another solution. An older Italian couple, Francesco and Daniela, helped me out. The called the Italian railway and wrote down some options for. Despite no common language we conversed for quite some time. The were travelling with their old Vespa Scooter in Greece and now were taking the ferry back. Having used this ferry many times they also shared their knowledge with me on when to go to the terminal. The port closed at around midnight so you have to wait at the dock. At 11:30 I went through and had now 5 hours to spend.

I met quite some people during this time. A greek couple who lived in Germany let me put my bike in front of their car in the first row so I could put out my inflatable matress to get a bit of sleep. Sleeping in this high lit area with hundreds of truck with running engines to keep the air conditioning going proved hard. So I layed down, got up again, talked to more people, amonst them 2 older women who have been travelling to Greece annually since the 70ies.

At some point when I woke up again I saw a guy taking a picture of me sleeping next to my bike. He was from Austria and was travelling back with his family. After we talked he told me and my bike and hearing about my trip got him motivated to do something similar.

At around 2:30 in the morning some police cars started circling around the dock. The were looking under trucks using flashlights and all of a sudden to young people starting running away. They were refugees who were trying to make it onto the ship by hiding under the trucks. There it was. You hear these stories of refugees trying to get on freight ships but seeing it is another story. There I stood and watched them run away along the docks, climbing a fence, getting away from the police. How often had they tried already? Where were they from? What did it take for them to get to this place? Whom did they loose along the way? Here I was shortly before thinking about how tough I am sleeping on the dock concrete having travelled to this place 2300 kilometres out of my own strength. I can’t even imagine what they had to go through to get here. I knew that at some point the ferry will come and I will be on my way home. I knew were I was going. They might know where they want to go, but will they ever get there? How lucky I am to be born into the right place at the right time.

When the ferry arrived I went into the cabin that I had booked, had a shower, then a beer at the bar and then went to sleep. I woke up at around 10:30, had some breakfast and then laid down again and slept some more. The boat was not a cruise ship but had all the commodities you needed, even a little massage centres which I used as well. I read a bit and in the afternoon met the Austrian again. We had some beers, chatted, he sent me the picture of me sleeping on the floor. After I had dinner at around 7 I went back to bed and fell asleep right away. That way the 25 hours on the ferry passed quite quickly.

I was woken up by somebody knocking on my cabin door at around 2:45. All passengers had to clear their cabins so they could be prepared for the people embarking in Venice. As an “incentive” to leave the room they must have turned of the air conditioning on the ship. When I woke up everything was humid and sticky. I took another quick shower and then went to deck for a coffee. Outside it had 25 degrees and it was quite humid as well. Not as bad as in the ship though.

We arrived in the port in Fusina, close to Venice. The way to the port was lit like an airport runway. In the distance you could see Venice. After I got out of the ferry I had to cycle for 15 kilometres to get to Mestre train station. It was pitch black and this time the industrial port area was still sleeping. When I arrived at the train station I had to wait until 6 before the ticket office opened. There are some strange creature lurking around train stations at this time of day or night. I sat down to read a bit. An older Italian guy sat down next to me and talked to me in Italian. He was very keen to make converstation, ask all sorts of things I didn’t understand. He laughed, kept on talking loudly, grabbed my shoulder like we were buddies. It was just a bit much at this time of the day. I bought him a cappuccino and then left to read somewhere else.

In the ticket office the guy told me that the first train to Zug that would allow bikes would leave in the afternoon. So I booked a regional train to Verona and then to Milano that left just 20 minutes later. Even though it might sound like a nuisance to only travel back from stop to stop I actually did like it. Yes, I was tired and and sweaty but I just felt that this kind of travelling suited my overall trip.

When I got to Milano my relaxed mood changed. It took me quite some time to find the ticket office and due to a strike there were about 100 people ahead of me waiting to buy tickets. It took about 2 hours before it was my turn. I told the lady at the desk that I needed ticket to Zug for me and my bicycle. She could not tell me which train I should take. “Due to the strike the regional trains will probably not run. I can sell you a ticket for the train in 15 minutes but I don’t know if you will be able to take the bike on board”. Great. I was ready to go and since I did not have any other option I bought the ticket. I got to the train, took all my luggage of the bike and into a travel bag and just got on. I figured before I ask anybody I just will find out once the train is going. Worst that can happen is that they throw me off at the next station. I was a bit relieved that the train was run by the Swiss SBB who usually is quite bike friendly. Once I had everything packed away and the bike hung up on one of the racks I sat down in the next available seat. I was drenched in sweat. Shortly after we departed one of train crew members came to check and also sold me a ticket for my bike. When we reached Switzerland the police came on the train and I had the probably longest passport check out of my travel. Where I was going? – Zug. If I was living there? – Yes. If I was importing anything? –No. “Cigarettes, Alcohol?” – No, I am travelling with my bike so I don’t have any room. “You have a bike? That’s forbidden on the train!”. I was wondering to myself why Swiss boarder control was concerned with the rules and regulations of the train. I showed them my ticket for the bike. The police officer found a member of the train crew and had it confirmed that it is ok to bring a bike. That’s Switzerland, too. Checking rules and regulations out of consciousness, not duty.

In Brunnen the train slowed down even though it was not a stop. Shortly after we came to a halt an announcement was made that the train had technical difficulties and could not proceed. In Arth-Goldau we had a longer stop, again due to technical difficulties. So they decided to skip the station “Zug” to make up time. Connections to Zug are not really a problem. Switzerland has probably the best public transport system in the world. But I had all my luggage and a sea bag, about 30 kilos. To carry that up and down stairs together with the bike is not so easy. I arrived at 15:30 in Zug. My bus to Oberägeri was just about to leave but I decided not to run. I let it go. Went to Pickwicks bar, ordered a beer and took the next one. In the bus I put all my luggage back on the bike so I could cycle the last 600 metres home from the station. When I arrived I decided to cycle to the Beach Bar in Oberägeri first. I parked my bike had a beer and went for a swim. It hit me again in what a beautiful place I live. If this place was a stop along my trip I would have been busy taking pictures of my bike in front of the lake from all angles. I got back on my bike, cycled home and about 53 hours after I left the hotel on Corfu, was back home. What a strange feeling to arrive with your luggage at that place that you started at about 4 weeks ago. Maybe a few kilos lighter.

So that is it. 2381 kilometres and 24175 vertical metres, 10 countries, about 160 hours of cycling. Thanks to everyone who followed me on this trip. When you are travelling alone the regular comments or messages are quite motivating. Thanks also to everyone who donated for Because We Carry. Overall around 1700 Euros came together.

And lastly, if you have any good suggestions for destinations for my next year’s trip, send me a comment.

Huber out!