Thermal pools & Mountain Trails (day 102 - 108)
Day 102 - 108 (22nd - 28th Nov)
10,654 miles
Tiria - Thermal Pools - Durres - Kotor
The weather the following day was horrific so it was a slow morning. I packed up the tent in a brief weather window before things really got started, then spent a few hours hiding from the rain in the van, discussing plans with the others. I needed to get out of Greece to stop my Schengen timer and make sure I have enough time to get through Europe and home by mid-Dec, Elena was aiming for Rome via a ferry but had some time, and the others were largely heading north but had no fixed intentions. In the end, we decided to head to the same spot in Albania by some thermal pools for a couple of days, the weather was forecast to improve after the initial wet spell. Just before we departed Germain made the announcement that he had Staphylococcus Aureus and that it was contagious through contact with the infected area. He'd known about it for a few days but had only realised the infection risk looking into it more that morning. We had a bit of a 'family meeting' about how to travel in close proximity and avoid the risk, with the consensus being that it would hopefully be okay, and that we would manage it with disinfectant, avoiding sharing contaminated surfaces and be careful as we can whilst he used creams and plasters to treat and contain.
I started to make my way out of the waterlogged field and turned to see the van going nowhere. The slow morning, soft ground and persistent rain had made a pretty good job of ensuring Elena's 2wd home was now a feature of the field. Germain and I tried pushing it but the front wheels spun and dug down into the earth. Luckily the towing eye for the van was still in its nested home (these often take little side quests and forget to come back) so I screwed it into the front of the van and I tied my towing line to the pannier rack of the bike and let the GS do its thing. It was successful for a few meters then got stuck again, with the van starting to spin and dig down into the ground, again. With some rocking back and forth with clutch and shoving, we got it out of the new rut it had dug. I suggested dropping the pressure of the tyres from Van spec (65PSI) to off-road pressures (20PSI) ish, tethered my 1wd tractor to the front and gave it another go, with Germain and Lisa both doing their bit from the back. It worked, I managed to protect my clutch by keeping the revs up and the clutch fully engaged (read: I just roostered everything behind me) and hauled the van to the top of the slope. It took about an hour in the pouring rain from start to finish, but the new brown speckled paintjob on the front of Elena’s home suited the heroic activity of the day and we were finally able to set sail for our Albanian destination once more.
The border leaving Greece was casual and easy, as we left the EU and drove over the bridge into Albania, the street lights stopped working, the road condition deteriorated almost immediately and the guards had to be awoken from their slumber to process us. The electricity kept cutting out until we heard the guards fire up the backup generator to provide enough light and keep the computer alive long enough for us to enter the country. The sun had set, the rain had found another gear, and we had an hour to go to the thermal pools along unlit mountain roads. With the van in front illuminating a little more of the road ahead, I picked my way past the minefield of landslide rocks and deep puddles until we arrived at the parking spot beside the river in the valley, thoroughly soaked and grateful to have avoided drama during the intense ride in particularly tumultuous conditions.
We had gathered some supplies from a shop on the way, and set to completing another 3L of wine, snacks and ultimately dinner whilst singing loudly under the shelter of a car park/camping hut until 02:00, whilst the storm and lighting raged at the periphery of our makeshift home. The ground wasn't very tent friendly, so after initially anticipating hanging my hammock high up underneath the roof of the car park shelter, Elena kindly let Germain and me take refuge in the van, with me on the floor, Lisa and Elena in the bed and Germain in a hammock hung from the internal frame of the van, we had a three tiered home!
The next day was sunny and glorious, and we did very little. I hadn't realised how wet everything had gotten, but water had managed to find its way into the tank bag (probably through some holes rubbed in the fabric from the 'off' in Norway), and got all the electronics, my wallet and cash. My riding gear was wetter than an otter's pocket and the helmet may as well have housed a goldfish for a day. A sunny day to not move, open/air everything and recover from the drenching was well timed. We went for a dip in the thermal pools in the afternoon and although the evenings were bitterly cold, all of us were content to just exist there hidden in the valley by the thermal pools amongst the mountains for a few days so that's how we passed 3 nights.
My onward plans were to head north after a day of trail riding some of the Trans European Trail (TET) in Albania, and the others were aiming for the coast in preparation for the ferry over to Bari in Italy. I knew I'd be riding into the night after the trail riding because the sun set at 16:20 which doesn't give much playtime, so I found accommodation in Durres to aim for then set off for the Albanian leg of the TET. I rode a really picturesque 30km through the moutains over some spicy terrain fully loaded with a couple of close calls, but impressed that the rear TKC80 I had fitted after the crash in Norway was still going after almost 8,000 miles. I stopped following the TET as the light left my company, and spent 2 hours riding down unlit roads towards Durres - I still don't enjoy riding on unknown surfaces in foreign countries at night but got to Durres safely and checked in to the apartment I had booked. After 4 nights without many facilities I was ready for a warm shower but after 30 seconds it stopped flowing. After discovering there was no water in the apartment at all I messaged the landlord and found out it was a building wide problem and wouldn't be resolved until tomorrow - nice.
The next morning I checked out (sans payment for the lack of water), sorted some breakfast before the ride two hours north to another section of Albanian TET, and called in at a fuel station to top up before heading off-grid. Remembering something Ali had read whilst researching for our Africa Rally adventure in 2008, I always check the displayed price of the fuel pump before I fill up, and afterwards too. It's far too easy to arrive, start filling and not notice someone had taken 5 liters before, or added a bit at the end. In the UK fuel stations are largely self-serve, the format across europe varies between self-serve, serviced stations, and some that are happy for you to do it yourself but are familiar with doing it for you too. Personally, I'm not a fan of serviced fuel stations, but I can see that if you are in the drivers seat of a car it saves time and effort. On a bike I have to remove the tank bag, take my key out of the ignition to open the fuel cap and am sat in front of it anyway so there is no benefit at all beside the awkward silence of waiting for somoene to fill it wrong in front of me, so I generally do it myself regardless. When I went to fill up this time, it was obvious they were keen to do it so I let them until it clicked out then I took it off the guy to continue filling because my only register of remaining miles is knowing it was definitely full to start with (and it clicks out with 2 litres of capacity still). The service station's colleague stood between me and the fuel pump which wasn't easy for him to achieve with limited space, then the first guy punched numbers into his handheld card reader and asked for my card. I refused to give it until I could see the machine, and noticed they'd put about 1200 Lek (40% more) ontop of what I'd actually used. I pointed it out and got an inaudible response before he changed the number on the card reader and presented it again, matching the pump this time. It didn't sound like a big deal and the guy played it down, but everything about the situation was intended, it wasn't a mistaken entry of close numbers.
After avoiding being fleeced I followed the GPS to the literal start of a motorway which was bizarre. In the UK there is no visual start to any road, they all blend together from one road to another - lanes are added, or removed, and signs change, but things flow - the same in every country I've been to. In Albania, they have 6 lanes of tarmac which just stop, and drop 5m into rubble and earth. It was such a weird way to start a motorway, I joined it from a side road then was on it like the start of a runway. In contrast to the attempted money-grab by the fuel station guys, I rode to the toll booth and asked how much the toll was, the guy asked where I was from, and when I said England, he asked if I was going to Liverpool - a strange question to ask in the middle of Albania, but yeah sure why not. Then he told me the road was free, pressed a button and the barrier lifted. I have no idea why they have built booths and pay the wages of someone who just asks where people are from then let us go, but it suited me - maybe he was just a fan of Liverpool.
After a couple of hours I got to the start of the trail which meandered up into the mountains following a turquoise river in a deep gorge, with the road getting smaller and smaller and eventually turning into a gravel track - excellent, here we go. I changed the electronic suspension into off-road mode, changed my gloves to lighter ones and set off. After about 2 miles I was staring at a landslide which had blocked the trail entirely. I'm all for a challenge, and I'm not known for quitting easily, but there was a 5 tonne JCB digger equipped with a bucket I could have slept in, a generator and a truck - they were all off-duty but clearly there to free the trail in the fullness of time. Battle lost, I played with the drone a little then rode back down the way I came, disheartened that the TET day of riding had been cut so short after hours of tarmac to get there. I continued down to the border with Montenegro, and was treated to my easiest border crossing of the past 100 days - I was out of one country and into the next in about 6 minutes elapsed, no drama.
Albania felt a bit more edgy than most of the other countries I've been to. Greece was very familiar and european feeling, the food, the language, history, the way things work (or don't), it was an easy place for me to be. Albania felt a little different by contrast - the countryside was very pretty but the urban areas weren't cared for and I didn't really develop any connection to the place for one reason or another. Most open spaces near civilisation were carelessly littered with building rubble or just fly-tipped rubbish, I didn't really have many strong positive interactions with people and the few I did have with people were a little off-beat. I'll admit my brief experience wasn't complete enough to make a full assessment but you get a feeling for a place from one thing or another and thats the sense I had from where I spent time.
I had booked 3 nights stay at an apartment in Kotor so I could base myself in one place and explore Montenegro without luggage - the country wasn't that big and I'd be passing close to the coast to get into Croatia in a few days anyway. After a couple of hours riding I arrived at my accomodation and made my home for the next few days, airing some camping bits and making the most of the washing machine to reset my kit back to zero. The only clearly good weather was the next day so I made a plan to pick up the TET again and spend a few hours riding trails in Montenegro as a way to see the countryside, then nipped into town for some dinner before bed.
I had a two hour ride to where I'd meet the TET which begun by winding up a serpentine road from my accomodation to 3,000ft above sea level having pretty much started by the water - but first was stunned by the view from the accommodation down over the Bay of Kotor, shaped bizarrely like an angel by the geography of the coast. The serpentine switchback hairpins had patches of wet from the previous night and I did some traction testing as I rode to get a feeling for where the limits were, the result was that I could spin the wheel in any gear up to 4th by just mildly accelerating as I pulled away from the corners - essentially I had no grip - duly noted. Concluding that it was probably the combination of cold road, cold tyres, worn off-road tread and water, I figure it would be fine when everything warmed a little, but just to keep checking as things changed, and ride slowly into bends.
The route up to the start of the TET in Montenegro was very pretty, it took me through the Old Royal Capital of Cetinje in the hills before meandering up and down mountains and ultimately tracing a gorge up from Podgorica. The road along the gorge was smooth, open, dry, sunny, and almost empty - it was an absolute joy to ride into sweeping corners, powering out the other side, stealing a glance at the mountains around me as I rode. I got to the junction for the TET and turned up towards the hills, changed the suspension to off-road, put lighter weight gloves on, and started along the tarmac single track past the little farms and villages dotted all over the hillside. After 12 miles I was out of phone signal, in the bowl of a vallley, and the road turned into gravel, worsening fairly quickly. It started to switchback and gain altitude at the head of the bowl, rising up to the saddle between peaks. Once I was past all the dwellings, it was clear nothing else used this road, the boulders got bigger and the streams had cut their way through the track dumping rocks and obstacles everywhere. Stopping on the bike was a problem because I was relying on momentum to keep it moving over the rough terrain, but then momentum was tricky to manage being thrown about by the boulders redirecting me all over the place. After a mile or so, the trail convinced the bike to lay down, and I was very warm, staring at a boulder field ahead. I had a walk up to the next section and figured this was maybe the end of the day's attempt. Those familiar with the Erzberg Rodeo Hard Enduro will know what Carl's Dinner is, those who aren't familiar - Google. If I absolutely had to get through it, I would have spent a few hours manouvering the boulders around and forced the bike through the 10m mine field, but I reccy'd the next few sections using the drone and it got worse and worse, I had 2 hours of daylight and although I was only 1.5 miles away from houses on the other side of the saddle, the physical risk of injury was very high and I didn't need to take it. Another day of TET riding cut short, and in truth I think that would have been juicy to have tackled on my Enduro bike or a trials bike let alone a hefty Adv bike. I turned round and head back down the mountain with all my limbs intact - considering it a win.
The route home was either 2hr 30 along the same roads I took up, or I could pick a route into the mountains a little and explore some new terrain in the north of the country so I did that, and set off. Within an hour light started to fade, and I had gained a lot of altitude on the roads until I was timidly riding over snow, questioning my choice. I spent about 20 minutes riding over snowy corners high up in the mountains before the road started to decend again and the surface conditions improved, but the daylight had given up. I had 2 hrs 20 to go back to my accommodation, it was dark and 4°C, it was going to be a slow chilly ride back, so I took my time and carried on - conscious I was missing the sightseeing of the mountains around me.
As I gradually got closer to the Bay of Kotor, the road dropped in altitude and the world got a little warmer, I was riding in 12°C which was much more comfortable and the road had been flowing and easier but still unpredictable and dark. As I entered the last few switchback hairpins before contouring the northern coastline of the maritime angel, my bike hit the floor and slid away from me. I landed on my left shoulder and slid along side it until it completed its pirouette and came to a stop in the middle of the road, sparks lighting the ground.
I got up, walked over to the bike and turned it off, picked it up and moved it to the edge of the road. Christ sake, again. There were no other cars around, I felt winded and hurt, but okay. I got the bike off the road and sat on the crash barrier at the side for a moment in the quiet blackness of the evening. It had been relatively low speed, maybe 10-15mph, the bike had some new scratches on the carsh bar which now had a fairly pronouced chamfer ground onto it from its hard life, but nothing else seemed broken and it started and rode okay. I felt okay just sore, but I wanted to know what had happend. That day I'd tackled hefty boulders, snow, all sorts of difficulties and my undoing was a tarmac corner? I walked back to where the crashbar hit the ground and could barely stand still, the surface was covered in diesel and I was sliding around just trying to walk on it. I followed the trace of scar in the tarmac from my crash bar and discovered the diesel covered the entire corner for about 20 meters, even in broad daylight I may not have been able to do anything about this.
Satisfied I hadn't done something wrong (not from a point of pride, I'm okay doing things wrong - it happens a lot, but when you don't know the cause of a mistake, you can't trust your judgement anymore), I rode tentatively back to Kotor and stopped for some food at a seafood restaurant on my way. It wasn't the best timing to go here, but I wanted to be warm and eat good food and rest a moment, so took the recommendation from my host and had one of the best Sea Bream I've ever had. I rode back to the apartment and could tell my shoulder was not happy, got changed and went to bed.
The weather had been forecast to be worse the next day and my only plan was to explore the Old Town of Kotor, which was well timed as an opportunity for me to rest. After a poor night's sleep I had a very slow morning, I could lift objects straight up (I picked my 250kg bike up) but I couldn't raise my arm in front of me without quite a lot of pain, and taking deep breaths hurt, so I probably a bruised rib or two. It was the same shoulder I landed on in Norway almost three months ago, and the same one I broke the collarbone of in 2022 - it doesn't have much luck that shoulder. I've been quietly managing the injury from Norway as a background discomfort, accomodating it by changing how I do things but not feeling as though it was stopping me do much, just twinging occasionally and feeling very weak. Landing on it again was not part of my plan to rest it, and it definitely hasn't helped. Through some discussions with Tom, he/we figured it could be an injured/damaged rotator cuff - I'll see how it develops over the next few days but I started to feel fairly depleted now. This last one wasn't a big thing, but its another consumption of energy to be juggling pain and be self-sufficient and organised to continue travelling, and still have the energy to explore and make the most of the places I was passing through. I don't think I'll tackle any more off-roading between now and home, I need a few weeks of easier riding without problems now.
Kotor Old Town was very quiet, as an off-season tourist trap half the places were shut or had shorter hours of operation, but it was picturesque enough to sit in a cafe for a few hours and wander round. I figured I'd earned another lavish meal so found an expensive steak to eat then head back and started to get stuff sorted for my departure in the morning. I had now balanced enough days outside of the EU to give me time to meander through and get to the UK by the 17th Dec, and I also had spare day if I need it for the connecting flight to South America in January if it goes through Europe. Looking at the Adriatic Coast, I made a plan to stay in Split in Croatia for a few days, but thought I'd only book a couple of nights first in case where I intended to stay wasn't quite what I'm looking for. With the majority of my stuff squared away again and a loose plan to ride 5 hours and cross the border, I went to sleep.
