![]() ![]() We spent the afternoon strolling the streets of beautiful Naoussa, applying freddos and beer to our faceholes. We’d had a boat tour booked for the following day but the crazy winds had forced that to cancel so we figured we could just go for a ride then. We’d intended to rent a quad bike today but by the time we’d settled in we decided to just do as little as humanly possible because fuck it, we’re on holiday. That was an absolute game changer, just being somewhere we could have a shower and not feel dirtier than when we went in. We booked the cheapest room in Naoussa we could find the following morning and bailed. It was fine enough to get through the mesh of the tent inner, everything was covered in the shit and when I woke up several times wiping the grit out of my eyes and mouth that was it. The wind is no one’s fault but the area you pitch your tent was just this fine dirt which coated everything. We could probably have coped on account of the price, we could have made it work but it was so fucking dusty. It actually looks deceptively nice in this shot. I wish I’d taken more photos of this place but I didn’t think. We even wild camped in a woodlouse invested lookout hut on the South West Coast Path and all of the above made my skin crawl less than this shithole did. I’ve watched a dark shape scurry across the floor and hoped to fuck it was a small mouse and not a massive spider. I’ve stayed in some utter shitholes in my years of travel. They don’t, so your nearest shop is a 30 minute walk away. You could forgive the location if they, y’know, actually opened the mini market or café they claimed to have. We knew there’d be a walk from the bus to the campsite but when the wind is trying to relocate the sea to the shore it’s not a very dry walk.ĭear fucking lord above, don’t bother. There are three campsites on Paros one was closing for the season, the best located had the worst reviews that made it sound like you’d come away with several different types of medieval diseases, so by process of elimination we ended up at Blue Aura near, but not in, Naoussa. ![]() In lieu of a photo of the main port which isn’t overly inspiring, have a photo of the port in Naoussa instead. We span around again and finally pulled in and the mass of flesh and hair spilled off the boat and into Parikia where there were KTEL buses waiting to take people to their destinations. We pulled into Paros port, then immediately pulled out again as crew barged through the crowd and yelled into walkie talkies. Are we ever getting bored of these pavements with white walls and pink flowers? Probs not. By this point you’re all gathered in the garage ready to be herded off, the doors start coming down way before you’re docked and the scenery flies past as the boat spins into place. ![]() What it feels like is a handbrake turned executed by your mate Dave in his Golf GTI. You have no fucking clue what’s going on when one of these ROROs gets to port, they like to get them unloaded and reloaded as quickly as possible. I’d taken a Kwells so my brain had turned to mush, and in a related note, if anyone knows of a travel sickness tablet that doesn’t relieve you of your basic motor functions please share. The crew handed out sick bags at one point. Well Paros didn’t get off to the best start did it? We weren’t originally going to come here but a last minute change of plan had us thinking fuck it, let’s have a look shall we? The ferry crossing wasn’t long, only a couple of hours, but the wind was insane. ![]()
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