Day 90 - August 10th: Headwind
Eftheroupoli to Krini: 32.6 miles / 2,591 total
After the usual post-run routine, Tina and I focused on planning for Turkey. My kit will be minimal: two sets of run clothes, essential toiletries, charger cable and what I take daily like hat, glasses, passport, sunblock, and battery. Tina will take a few of my non-running clothes, our electronics, her own essentials, and Jax. She’ll head to Istanbul and leave the rest of our gear locked in the car until we return a week later.
Her biggest challenge is getting from Alexandroupoli to Istanbul with Jax. A private car quoted €500 cash—too much. Then Luiz, our host from the night before, called. The same Luiz who had been frantic when his cleaner was late yesterday, and who gratefully accepted Tina’s offer to help clean the unit before the next guests arrived. In thanks, he offered the use of a family member’s car to get her and Jax to Istanbul. The catch—insurance doesn’t cover Turkey and we would need to be responsible. It’s a calculated risk, so we’re weighing it against other options.
Our three-star hotel looked good online, but the A/C was weak and the room hot. That said, when the front desk offered to have breakfast ready at 6 a.m. instead of 8, they earned back a star in my book.
I came down at 5:59 ready to eat and go—today would be brutally hot. The lobby was dark, and a man slept on the couch. No one stirred when I said good morning in Greek. After five minutes, I gave up and went back upstairs. Tina found me a protein shake, smoothie, Powerade, and some nuts—good enough to launch at 6:30. Tina told me later that the man on the couch was the one who was supposed to get breakfast ready!
The mornings are my favorite—light traffic, cool air, and the slow burn of the sunrise. Dropping out of Eftheroupoli, I finally saw the perspective I’d missed when I was in the village—perched high against the slopes, framed by the Pangaion Hills. These mountains have dominated the region for millennia, their peaks rising to nearly 2,000 meters.
I followed a ridge road into a small café, grabbed a double macchiato, and kept moving. After a town called Stavros, I climbed through a gap and saw Kavala spread out below—a perfect amphitheater of white buildings along the Aegean, crowned by its hilltop fortress.
Kavala has been a strategic prize since antiquity—once the ancient city of Neapolis, it was a key port for the Athenians during the Peloponnesian War and later served as a Roman station on the Via Egnatia. The Apostle Paul first set foot in Europe here, arriving by sea before traveling inland to Philippi. Through Byzantine, Ottoman, and modern eras, the fortress above the port has watched over trade, warfare, and waves of migration.
In town, a kind woman told me about a special bakery that opened at 9 a.m. I arrived at 9:04 to find a line ending at a counter that instantly reminded me of the Soup Man in New York City—the one Seinfeld made famous as the “Soup Nazi.” Same energy, same precision. Only five massive pastries on offer—beef, cheese, and a few others. You order, he cuts a slice, weighs it, passes it to the next guy, you pay, and you’re out. I got one with beef and another with sweet cheese sprinkled with fresh cinnamon. Both were incredible, and anyone passing through Kavala should make the stop.
I ate them in the shadow of St. Nicholas Church, where Sunday mass spilled into the streets, loudspeakers carrying the service beyond the doors. Of all the countries I’ve run through, Greece feels the most deeply engaged in Sunday worship.
Leaving Kavala, I hugged the coastline—Aegean blue on my right, beaches still quiet in the heat. A stiff southwesterly wind blew straight into my face. At 30K, Christina refueled me before I turned inland toward the mountains.
Near Chalkero, I passed massive open-pit mining operations—modern successors to the ancient quarries that once drew empires here. Beyond that lay the Nestos National Park, a protected area of wetlands, forests, and mountain habitats that contrasts sharply with the stripped hillsides of the mines.
At 40K, Google tried routing me in wide loops to avoid the Egnatia Odos highway. I decided to cut across. A short trail brought me to a high fence, then down an embankment and onto the four-lane. Six direct kilometers in a hot headwind, with trucks honking encouragement, and I was at my exit where Tina waited.
A really solid day and only two full days left in Greece.
Thanks for the support.
Cheers,
David.
