The Hippie Camp at the Dimitrios shipwreck

It has been the end of march 2022 when Tino and I arrived at the parking next to the Dimitrios Shipwreck​.

I’m driving the coastal road around a long left corner and there I see it: the Dimitrios Shipwreck. Since I saw photos of it on Google Maps, I wanted to have a look at it and there it is. Tino is taking a sharp right turn on a smaller road and I’m following him. We arrive at the parking and see some other campers parking. After the beach near the dream cove, it’s the second time that I see other campers at a parking. Right next to the parking is a pretty big restaurant but it’s closed because the summer season is still not here.

We choose a spot around a fireplace to park our cars. I get out of Rosinante to check if she’s standing well, and suddenly I recognize the car we parked next to: it’s the van of the “Frenchy Friends”. Surprise and happiness are shooting into my head. They are welcoming us and we hang around, chatting about this and that and some hours later they leave to continue their journey.

Tino and I are taking the short walk to the shipwreck. Standing in front of it, I catch all its beauty and it’s just fascinating me. I don’t know why, but it just makes a big impression on me. Maybe because it’s a ship at s place where it shouldn’t be or it’s just the way it looks. The shipwreck is laying on the beach with its stern in the sea and its nose on the beach. Small waves are pushing into it but they fail in pushing it further onto the beach. It’s whole body is covered with rust giving it a mysterious and fragile feeling. The rust has done pretty well in ripping holes into the wreck over the last decades. But still, the ship appears massive and strong. Because it’s still here. Nobody cares for it, for decades it’s at that one place where it should never have come, but it’s here. And it doesn’t seem like it has any plans to leave soon. The side of the wreck which is facing the beach has beautiful and colorful graffitis on it. Somehow this lets the rusty past and the bright present melt together.

We are going back to the parking and there we get to know other nice travelers who are temporarily living here in all sorts of camping cars. It turns out, that at this parking are at least five campers all the time. Every day someone new arrives and others leave. So we have a lot of interesting conversations and hang around with different people.

The next days are full of talking, hanging around, cooking on a fire, picking food while taking walks around the area and having a great time. The parking develops in some kind of a lovely Hippie Camp with lovely and interesting people. I’m taking a walk around the camp and there is hair getting cut, a car repaired, clothes washed, the food we picked earlier is getting prepared for dinner and some temporary Hippie Campers are having fun on a slackline. Two of the temporary inhabitants are the “Romanian Vikings”: Anellise and Gabriel. These lovely Vikings are inspiring me so much when it comes to living on a budget, living and traveling in a car. Because their Camper needs some repairs and the needed spare parts take their time, they are on the parking for about four weeks now. But they are making the best of it. I have a big smile on my face and I’m loving the life in the Hippie Camp.

In the end, I’m staying for a week in the lovely Hippie Camp. I can’t remember, that I stayed in one place for so long since I’ve moved into a car. At the end of the week, Tino starts his way back to Germany and I continue my travel in Greece with a new friend and new adventures ahead.

Location on Google Maps

Facing the storm

It’s been my birthday in March 2022 when Tino and I did an offroad tour that led us to the top of a Greek mountain on Peleponnese. That evening it had been storming like crazy and on the next day, the storm was still at full power.

I’m waking up and Rosinante is still swaying like a drunken sailor staggering home, stumbling to her knees now and then. Before I went to bed yesterday, I didn’t pop up Rosinante’s roof. I wouldn’t have enjoyed the additional noise and the worrying about the tent fabric torn apart like an old sail while the wind is hitting Rosinantes broadside. It’s six o’clock and the sun is about to rise. After checking my phone for no special reason, I decide to go out to watch the sunrise. I’m thinking about turning my phone off at night to make it easier for me not to check it just to check it. But I quickly push away that thought while having the feeling, that I’ll change that in some not-so-far-away future. After getting my winter clothes on, I’m opening Rosinante’s rear hatch. Instead of the familiar sound of the pneumatic springs pushing the hatch up, I’m just hearing the wind blowing. There are small patches of snow and I’m thinking if they have been there yesterday. Jumping out of the hatch feels a bit like exiting a spaceship. Even though I’m wearing my winter cap, the wind is screaming in my ears. After pulling on my hood, the noise got reduced to something like a mild screaming with the potential to rise to a roar. Feeling the cold on my face, I start the walk to a nearby place where I’ll have a better view. I’m passing by a big steel barrel filled with solid ice. Hitting it with a stone just blasts small pieces of the ice. I’m reaching the viewpoint and the wind hits me so hard into my face, that my hood gets jerked from my head. I put it back on and after adding the hood of my jacket, I’m tightening its straps. The view is fantastic: the sun just got up and her warm and orange light is illuminating different layers of mountains, clouds and the fog hanging between the mountains. The wind is roaring into my face, pushing tears out of my eyes and letting my cold nose run, but I can’t stop watching the scenery with wide-open eyes. While running over my face the once warm tears feel like they are freezing to ice. The wind gets even stronger and I’ve to lean myself into him to not get pushed back. It’s so beautiful, powerful and somehow weird, that I start laughing and whimpering at the same time.

Seen from the present, this morning feels like the start of some powerful but beautiful changes hitting me in the weeks after that morning.