Cats and boats and planes

The Greeks have turned car parking into an art form. Used as we are to the British system of neat rows of vehicles nose to tail in the streets, we are now coping with a culture that approaches parking in the way Jackson Pollock approached a canvas. The usual technique seems to be to hurl your car at the kerb and, as long as you are within walking distance of the pavement, the car can be abandoned. It is usual to see cars parked on blind bends, while the owner pops in somewhere for a coffee, and double parking is mandatory, to the extent that the streets are often partially blocked.  

Kavala Old Town gives sweeping views of the city

Parking in the city of Kavala where we had driven from our overnight above Xanthi was organised along the normal Greek lines. There had been little opportunity to take the spaniels for a walk first thing as the path we followed just ended at a steep drop into the valley. Therefore our plan was to arrive in Kavala, stop in the car park beside the ferry terminal and explore the old town. However we were thwarted by a height barrier at the car park entrance and an indifferent parking attendant. After wandering around the docks I was unable to find anywhere where we thought we could leave the van without it getting towed away, so we drove in search of a parking space.

Kavala is a city jammed between the mountains behind it and the sea in front so there is

Couldn't get much closer to the sea

very little flat space. Every bit of said space was jammed with cars, parked every which way, certainly no room for a motorhome. We therefore decided to drive to a place we had identified as a possible overnight on the western fringes of the city and take it from there. We were glad we had as we ended up on a small outcrop of land within feet of the sea. There was just space for us to squeeze in by two French vans which had obviously been there for a few days. The spot gave us a fine view of the waterside frontage of the city, with barely a sound save the lapping of the Aegean. 

The 16th century aqueduct was still in use 400 years later

We faced a 3 mile walk to get back to the old town but the spaniels were game, the sun was shining, and we could wander along the waterfront. Kavala is still very much a working port with its fish market and associated fleet of fishing boats, wharves for cargo ships and a ferry terminal so there was plenty to see for us and sniff for the spaniels. We paused for a sit down at a cafe by the docks and shared a bottle of local beer before making the steep climb up into the old town. On the way we passed the magnificent 16th century aqueduct  built on the remains of a previous Roman one. The Romans are just one set of previous rulers in this area which has also been part of the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires. Steep cobbled streets took us up to a 15th century fortress which crowns the hill before we returned to sea level and the long walk back to Florence.

As well as the French we were sharing our spot with a colony of cats who, we discovered,

Early morning view...plus cat

were looked after by a local animal welfare organisation. For some reason Elsa has a strong reaction to cats and the appearance of one outside caused her to bounce around the van, whining furiously. This was great fun for the cats that made a point of sitting in prominent positions outside our windows. 

The following morning we discovered a small park, perched precariously on a rocky mound behind the law courts which was good enough to walk the pups. When we got back we were informed by one of our French neighbours that the police had popped in and told them to move the following morning. We had, in any case, decided to move on that afternoon as we wanted to get to Thessaloniki where we had identified a convenient laundrette, and we had found a place to overnight not too far from that city.

Kavala is sat on a beautiful bay

Our route took us to a Shell garage, with an all too rare motorhome service point, and we then went in search of LPG. We were somewhat taken aback when we pulled in to another Shell garage when the man there refused to serve us claiming that filling gas cylinders was illegal. We actually have a certified refillable system but he was having none of it. Further along the road we found a BP garage where they were happy to top us up, although we took the precaution of keeping the gas locker closed so he could not see what he was filling.

The laundrette catered for everyone

That night was spent in what had once been a landscaped parking area in a small village that had obviously seen better days and now had weeds sprouting through the concrete. It was a scenario we had already encountered in Greece, a sign of the massive recession that had hit the country since it had been allowed to join the Euro and brought a sharp decline in public spending. But it was quiet and peaceful and and a large area of grass gave us somewhere to play ball with the spaniels and make an early departure for Thessaloniki the following morning.

The plan had been to visit a laundrette on the south of the city. We had chosen Sunday morning believing that the Greek law closing all shops on the Sabbath might allow us to find somewhere to park. We were disappointed. Having squeezed our way through a series of narrow streets lined by parked cars (see Greek parking habits above) it was clear that parking was not on the agenda, certainly not close to the laundrette. By chance we spotted a sign which said 'motorhome parking' and we set off in some hope. We eventually found a steep car park which, in fairness, did have a number of spaces marked out for motorhomes, all of which had been taken up by vans and lorries. We did find a space at the top and having had a precarious 45 degree breakfast, we made the 25 minute walk back to the laundrette carrying our dirty washing.

A bit of art in the sea at Kalamaria with Mt Olympus
in the background

By this time we had given up any thoughts of going further into what was obviously a busy and crowded city so we drove down to the harbour area in Kalamaria where we found a large piece of rough but level ground and joined a number of motorhomes including ones from Poland, Finland and a massive coach-built monster from Germany. On a warm sunny afternoon the place was busy with locals enjoying a stroll and eating in the many cafes and restaurants. A walk along the promenade seemed essential and we watched people queueing to board an old Greek warship, now a floating museum, and dodged electric scooters, bikes and four-wheeled pedal carts. All this excitement brought on a thirst so we popped into a cafe for the obligatory beer.

This museum ship was originally a WW2 US Navy destroyer

We had seen reviews that warned the site was noisy but, in the event, apart from the odd plane descending to the local airport, we had a quiet night. This morning, the sun was shining again so we took the decision to stay another night. Time is less pressing now we are in Greece, somewhere we intend to stay for three months. It was therefore, an opportunity to pop to the local supermarket and do some essential cleaning inside the van. A French couple next door to us spent some time picking up litter around the vans and Neri did her bit with black plastic bag and rubber gloves while I cleaned the floor in Florence. Litter is something of a problem in Greece, local authorities don't seem to have the money to provide enough bins, and the populace are fairly cavalier with their refuse. Tonight things are even quieter, just a few fishermen on the quayside and the occasional plane. Tomorrow it's south to the triple peninsula of Halkidiki where we intend to spend some time. Hopefully the weather will continue fair. 

The 15th century White Tower acquired the name Tower of Blood
due to the activities of Ottoman torturers and executioners