Nature is stronger than my Komoot
At Marasia, Greece, near Türkiye
Here in Greece, I planned to shortcut the route across the Arda river and land on the other side near the Turkish border, by taking a bridge that should be there. It wasn’t. Instead, I had to park my bike in front of a severely flooded area and could only listen to the sound of the stream that had overtaken the road. As if this situation had been permanent, I didn’t see anyone, neither on my side nor the other side of the river. Some warning signs nearby already looked pretty worn out. I had been misled. Here, in this far corner of the European Union I got stuck. As if a silent message was trying to tell me: don’t go further.
After finding a few options for alternative routes and realizing the problem could be settled by an extra hour or two of riding, I took the time to look around to this place I would probably never return to. Two things in particular stayed in my memory. In the fields, a bit off the road, the land was overgrown with leafless bushes. Suddenly, I discerned two basketball poles hidden among them. Fun of the past in camouflage of the present. I imagined how Bulgarian, Greek and Turkish kids might have once played here, long ago, when the E.U. was not yet the fortress it has become.
Walking closer onto this imaginary field, I was pulled by something completely different, as if the present was offering its own message. It was a beautiful butterfly, blending perfectly with its surroundings in camouflage colours, resting on a leave. I realized how Spring had given me its first gift, after having passed the diagonal across Europe in a winter of my choosing.
This post contains a preview of a forthcoming book about Journey to the East, highlighting the perpetuating tensions and sometimes awkward dialogues between East and West as found on my quest for a New Silk on an Old Road.