Chapter One Paradise
From here out, the story will be the day to day diary of the trip to Scotland. There is no route planned other than to cross Italy and go north through France as I have no intention of trying to ride my motor scooter over the Alps. The 150 cc motor on the scooter would be gasping for air, as would I, at thousands of meters in altitude.
I have enjoyed seeing the gigantic cruise ships coming to dock in Katakolon but I don’t envy the people who ride them. Their returns to wherever they started are horribly predictable and that’s not at all how I like to travel. Maybe it’s juvenile but I like surprises and I enjoy setting out without really having any idea how I will get where I’m going. In some ways it’s a musical metaphor as I rarely memorise the lead lines I will play for any of my songs, I would much rather play to whatever I feel at the time and this makes the music as much of a surprise to me as it will be to whomever may hear it.
Besides, the way I have heard it, eating is the biggest pastime on a cruise ship and this is as compelling to me as watching mice in a cheese factory although watching the mice might be kind of funny. I’ve also heard of sixties rock bands doing concerts on Mediterranean cruise ships where I suppose one can listen to well-aged rock and enjoy protein supplements at the same time.
It was extraordinary seeing the cruise ships when they docked in Katakolon as these things are colossal and carry so very many passengers. The town would bloom like a Spring rain had just hit the desert. It went almost to sleep in-between times but the streets would fill with people and open-air shops and there would be colors everywhere. What the postcard won’t show you is the kids playing soccer in the town square are Greek and it’s like a festival every day.