2022-05-16 Europe: 2022-08-24 15:25 (UTC)
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Departing from Galaxidi, bending the morning sunshine, lookout to Delphoi and Mount Parnassos.

Speaking of birds. While I was approaching the motorcycle in the rising sunshine, a few moments later noticed some strange noises. Something like chirping in distress. I looked around on the trees, around the bike, but found nothing.

Finally located the source of the noise: a sparrow(?), thrush(?), bird fell(?), flew(?) between the tight space between the windshield and the dashboard, but couldn't push itself out on the smooth surface with its claws. That night I didn't plan to eat a sparrow pörkölt, thus helped to escape; in its flurry by some inconceivable luck didn't scratch the plastic panel, but the horror still made it profusely crapping everywhere.

This is also the reason why I use a motorcycle cover.
Even if it takes significant space, even if compressed.

Not once I received funny looks and comments on the cover use, especially when doing it in underground garages.
The short story: there are bikers who don't care about their vehicle, and there are who do.
The longer story will arrive later that there's one type of touring rider, and there's an another one.

Although there are perfect underground garages, but during my travels I've met with many enough where the pipes were leaking (the sewage too), the plaster was falling, the ceiling was coming down.
No need to mention the outside: plants, trash, dust, sand, anything that moves by air, flying into everywhere.

The birds always find the most uncleanablestest gaps.

It's a simple weighing before the morning departure, whether a quick sponge use is better than disassembling and reassembling the fairing.

I found the least presentable coffee shop owner of Greece in Itea, who was bothered that the motorcycle while leaning to the side on the sidestand was overhanging onto his parking space, when I wanted to commit a drinking of a quick double espresso — so ultimately I started the day again in Delphoi. The day which was again a travelling day: the 237.13 km awaited with nothing lesser destination than Athens/Αθήνα itself.

Parking lots' ways are unpredictable
There are moments in life, when you realize in hindsight that sometimes it's good not to think ahead. After I stumbled through the city — the Explosion of the POIs nearly killed the navigation software — finally found the hotel on a narrow street. My preferences obviously targeted an underground garage: I had zero intention to leave the bike in a public parking lot, and the street was remotely out of question. The first problem appeared while arriving to the hotel: it indeed had an underground garage, but it was already packed to the sum of the two-track vehicles already flowing out to the street.

Luckily found a just a motorcycle sized parking spot in front of the hotel, then learned that my garage is some few hundred meters away, beyond the next street. What could one do in such situation: nodding, accepting that at least There is a garage. and pre-flexed the muscles to carry the luggage over.

The real cold shower hit in the garage: exact one car width sized pathway, close to chicane corners, ~12% slope — the smooth as silk surface was only the icing. Took this turn … took this turn … took this turn, how many more are still?! By the last one the wall on the outer side of the corner was scaringly close, but by some unknown source of instinct, by repositioning my body I could well enough lean the bike to avoid hitting the wall with the handlebar. Everyone knows what happens if the front wheel looses.

Finally I descended successfully about halfway to the center of the Earth, one turn after the Exit to Moria sign, and I think this was the time when the Fourth Primer of motorcycling became instinctive, the base of the right posture: the thigh muscles always squeeze the petrol tank.

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