Had we needed to get to Kambos in an emergency last night my guest and I would have been in trouble for both bikes were out of action. And so first thing today we called the bike man in Kalamata who said he’d be over in an hour or so. But this is Greece… seven hours later he arrived.
My bike had a simple problem, a puncture. I now have some magic spray which I blow into the tyre and that will allow me to drive into Kalamata tomorrow to get a new tyre. Easy.
My guest seemed to have a more serious problem. For her bike would not start last night. She insisted that she had tried everything. The bike man looked at her bike long and hard. He twiddled with a few knobs and then in a solemn fashion told me he had diagnosed the problem. Her fuel tank was empty. How girly can you get?
I felt rather embarrassed and so said “women.” He agreed. Petrol is now in the tank and pro tem we ride pillion except on the steep slopes back to the hovel where she (being the Health Nazi) gets off and walks and I ride on slowly behind.
Women and motors…I ask you.
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