![]() ![]() Yamaha is pronounced with an accent on the “ma.” ![]() Greeks like to play with words, rolling them off their tongues, sampling their flavors. A seaman stared at my green gas tank, its lettering visible in the half light. ![]() My back resting comfortably against the pack that was strapped to my sissy-bar, I drove up the ramp and into the cavernous interior of the Sofia. The man behind me in line would pay 1000 drachmas to take his small Fiat to Crete. There was, however, a line of irritated and shoving Greeks behind me and the official surrendered, thin-lipped. The man observed my wind-, rainand fire-proof silver jacket, knee-high boots and helmet with bubble shield. “Aw, very small,” I held my hands apart a distance of one foot, “a moped.” “How big is it,” the official asked suspiciously. “A ticket for a motorcykleta, please,” I said, larceny in my eyes. I purchased a third-class ticket for passage aboard the Sofia to Iraklion, Crete for 188 drachmas, a little more than $6. The ride to the ferry docks in Piraeus was quick. Then spare spark plugs, a clutch cable and other parts. I was not going to be carrying this load on my back I could not believe it! Exuberant, I loaded another bag. With my bike, a Yamaha RD350,1 decided to see all of Crete, from one end to the other. Where to go? Itinerary? To arrive at Karpathos one must catch a ferry from either Crete or Rhodes. No more would my feet hurt as I trudged miles with a full pack. I was ready for a return to Karpathos-with a difference. A bootmaker had made me a great pair of hand-stitched boots, and now those boots needed soles. One year before I had journeyed to the isolated island of Karpathos. After having lived in Greece for two years, I recognized the urge to travel to the islands. The city of Athens seemed close and stifling. Touring the islands of Greece on an RD350. ![]()
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