I’ve been remiss and I feel bad. I haven’t been keeping up the blog like I’ve wanted to and many adventures have passed (and photos been taken) without being documented. The month of June of this year however has been special and it deserves to be recorded. I’ll try to backfill other stories in the future.

It began for me on the Isle of Man; I was there to marshal again at the TT. At the same time, our good friends Kim and Scott arrived from Seattle to see us and to celebrate Scott’s retirement after selling the business he’d co-owned for 30+ years. They had planned a blowout sailing cruise in Greece and invited us to join them for the fun. There would be a small overlap; Scott and Kim would be in Valencia while I was still on IOM, but Cindy was eager to show them Valencia and Barcelona while I was playing with motorcycles and I’d join up later.

Isle of Man

I flew to IOM at the end of May for two weeks as a marshal at the TT. For those of you who don’t know what the TT is, I’ll summarize briefly: it’s a time trial race around the two-lane highways of the island for several different classes of motorcycles including sidecars. The organizers hold a week of practice and a week of racing around the 37-3/4 mile course and they need volunteer marshals to be stationed around the course to ensure the safety of the riders and the public. This is the second year I’ve participated and I’m eager to keep going back.

I’m lucky in that I have local residents to stay with as it’s tough to find someplace to stay during the event. The island’s population swells by half it’s offseason count during the TT and hotel rooms are like hen’s teeth. My hosts for the last two years, Alan and Vicki, have become good friends and they are incredibly generous with me. Alan has managed both years to find a bike for me to ride around the island to get to my marshaling posts and do a little touring as well.

I was smart enough to choose locations close to home base in Douglas this year, precluding 45 minute rides in the dark and cold, as I did last year. I hardly used all the layers I brought with me, thanks to quick commutes and great weather. Marshals aren’t allowed to take pictures so I only have a few from the days I took off from working the course.

Action at Greeba Bridge is amazing, you can get right next to the bikes as they apex on the stone walls. Some riders got close enough they had to pull their knee in to avoid brushing the wall.

When the sidecars’ turn came around, I moved down the field a bit to catch their approach.

On a rest day, the Purple Helmets Display Team, sadly now defunct, traditionally have a picnic / potluck and impromptu motocross event. I was fortunate enough to be invited this year and caught some of the action.

Goofy as their shows were, they really are pretty skilled riders.

Another day we hit Union Mills to catch the action.

Finally, the Helmets assembled at the Victory Cafe on Snaefel Mountain to promote and sign their new book, “At Speeds Approaching 100 Miles an Hour,” documenting the Helmets history. Proceeds go to the local hospice. I was lucky enough to get a faceful of dust, thanks Alan, when they performed one of their most famous stunts, “Ride your bikes through the local pub many times and make a mess.”

And with that, I flew back to Valencia with a day to do laundry and then hopped a bus to Barcelona to meet up with Cindy, Scott and Kim. What they did while I was away is left a mystery but we flew the following day to Athens to begin our Greek adventure.

Greece

We had a couple of days to explore Athens before hopping onto the boat. Our hotel was located just in the Plaka or old part of town which contains the Acropolis, Forum, museums bars and shops full of evil eye wards and wooden penises.

Poros. Spetses. Milos. Kimolos. Paros. Antiparos. Koufonisia. Amorgos. Schinousa. Sifnos. Serifos. That’s a lot of islands in the Cyclades and each one is different. We spent two weeks sailing among these islands, departing and returning to Athens, with Kim and Scott and our good friend Cheri.

Our boat was ably crewed by our skipper Kostas and cook Aliki. Kostas had the boat fully set up for singlehanding so he didn’t really need Scott’s and my help, much as we wanted to give it. We finally persuaded him to let us do a bit but like all skippers, he knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it. Aliki was an amazing cook and a bright and pleasant presence throughout the trip.

As the sun went down we put on music from the playlist we had put together via email ahead of the trip, with every boat-related song going back, sheesh, 50 years. Buffett, CSN, Christopher Cross…you get the idea. It was an ideal way to close out an amazing day and celebrate Cindy and good friends.

The next morning we thought we’d go visit the archaeological site on the island of Despotiko. We could see what appeared to be columns and a roofline from the boat and were curious. When we got there, after having been soaked on the dinghy ride to the site, we found a closed and locked gate, a sign we didn’t pay that much attention to, a bit of fence that had been knocked down…and at the top of the hill a group of very annoyed archaeologists. They berated us all the way back to the beach and forced us to apologize for entering before official visiting hours. We waited 40 minutes until opening time than and traipsed back up to see the site. Ugly Americans indeed.

Portugal

Suddenly we were back in busy Athens, a bit of a culture shock after two weeks in the islands. Next day we caught a flight to Porto, Portugal for a few days of exploration. Everyone has told us we have to go to Porto and by golly they’re right, it’s a pretty town with lots to see.

The Flat

We bid Kim, Scott and Cheri fond adieus. Kim and Scott carried on to Lisbon, Cheri headed back to Seattle and we came back to Valencia to see what if anything had been done to our new flat. Turns out demolition is nearly complete. I’ll include a few photos here to document progress.

And that’s it. Now we suffer through August and wait for something more to happen with the house. ­¡Hasta pronto!