My final day in Italy was a really good one, I felt strong and ready for the rest of this quest. Little did I know of what would happen in Greece and that in itself perhaps was a blessing.

When I travel with ferries I always buy a ticket for deck chair only since I find it too expensive to have the lyxury of a cabin. Going from Brindisi to Patra was just the same but I couldn’t really find any comfort on this particular ferry. It just didn’t feel right.

Late at night I was woken by another passenger after finally fallen into some kind of sleep. He informed me that it was time to get off the ship. Not nearly as awake as I needed to be I didn’t protest. I wasn’t informed about this, as it turned out extra stop, and I went off and started to try to find my way.

It took me a little while to get a signal on my smartphone because I was in a new country and when I did I couldn’t find my position on the preloaded map. I started to try to match the terrain I could see around me but it made no sense at all.

After wandering about in this new town I finally found wifi and could refresh the map. Now I could see my position. I was 250 kilometers wrong, up north. Almost in Albania.

After some coffee to bring life back into my head I started some trouble shooting. It didn’t take long to make a new plan and with the busride I found I would be in Patra almost on schedule! Easypeasy! No worries.

Arriving in Patra on the Greek Independence Day was a little bit like walking in a deserted town but I found my way and my place for the night.