25 September 2025 (cloudy, warm, showers) 0km

After all the stress from trying to check in online and book the extra bags, it took me until midnight to fall asleep and then I was awake at 5.30am unsure if I had done either as they don't give you a reaffirming email to tell you what you have been successful at. Just stressy reminders saying if you don't check in before the airport, you'll be charged 55€. Then while trying to check in, a pop up message saying one or more of these passengers can't check in online, but not telling me the reason why not. I'm wondering if it's because the passport chip didn't scan (I'm assuming because of the dodgy internet), or because we have bike boxes that will need special attention. So I woke at 5.25am worrying about this, so decided to check the bank account to see if I've been charged. And yes I had….twice! So I've ended up booking two 10kg bags each and spending an extra $140. Of course I never actually got to speak to a person, just read on their website that once you've booked a bag, you can't get a refund. Bloody aggravating as I didn't even spend the extra to guarantee us a seat together.

Then I remembered we were never going to go to England and I didn't name it on the travel insurance so quickly fired off an email to SCTI. Luckily they added it without charge.

When Pete woke about 6am after a good sleep (as I hadn't told him my concerns as I knew he'd worry more than me), I told him about the cock up. Over to Pete.

Well that whole debacle was annoying and so often, especially when booking bikes, you just need to talk to a person.

The way they get you to book, provided you with no clarification as to whether your payment had been accepted, consequently, because you need to book your bags, you book again.

Julia spent ages trying to find out what was going on, but in the end, we had to accept that money was gone. 

Breakfast was relaxed, but then we had to finish packing Julia's bike box.

Very hard to gauge the weight, but we figured it was no more than thirty kilos, which was the allocated weight allowance.

We had heard a thunderstorm overnight but this morning it was just raining on and off. As we approached our 11.30 am pick up by Christos, it had stopped. 

He arrived in a beautiful 2022 big Mercedes van. Plenty of room for us and our gear on board.

He spends the summer doing airport pick ups and drop offs and in the winter does tours to the mainland.

He runs 1/2 marathons and triathlons as well as road and mountainbiking and very proudly showed us photos, while he drove. Admittedly the traffic was slow, but you still needed to keep your wits about you.

By the time he dropped us at the airport, it was 12pm (even though it was less than 2 kms away), and the place was packed.

He was telling us that at this time of year there are 124 flights per day in and out of Corfu. Sitting in that airport all day watching people checking in, I can easily believe it. It was organised chaos. 

Hadn't been there too long when we met a fellow bikepacker. His name was Bennett, from Hamburg and he was a bike builder. Builds frames and bikes from scratch.

Works for "Bespoked" and travels all over the world doing Expos and selling the company.

Not only interesting from a cycle perspective, but a very intelligent, carefully worded and thoughtful young man.

Had a great conversation for a couple of hours about politics, the asylum seekers and the maniac that is "Putin." 

He had been cycling in Albania, but his Dad had suffered a slight stroke in Milan, so he was cutting his cycling short to go and see him.

Gave him our details in New Zealand and he is one person we think really will come out. Already at 29 yrs he's been in Oz a couple of times. 

Bennett left us about 2pm to go get his flight and we got some lunch. A panini for me and a surprisingly good prepackaged Caesar salad for Ju (after she'd picked off the croutons).

Our check in was between 7 - 8 pm, but at 6.45pm we shot down to check in. Huge crowds had been flocking into the complex all the time we'd been there and the queues were horrific. 

Had a lovely young man at check in and after all our stressing about the weight of the boxes, they didn't even weigh them as they were too big to fit on the scales.

Then we had to take them to an oversized baggage area with a scanner, down in the basement. From there we went through passport control and security.

As I walked through the scanner, the lady pulled me to one side for a random check. "Knew I should have taken that doobie out of my panniers." Swabbed front and back of hands then just on top of hips.

Carried on through to the gates, but looking for a coffee.

Found a coffee place....but no coffee...

Julia had a pistaschio desert thing and I had some greasy potato pastry thing. 

Wandered through to the gate, 5a.

While we were there the airport announcer was calling a Mr Wilde in a really shrill, loud voice, for his last call.

However, Mr Wilde was given at least another six "last" calls which had the group in our room, cracking up laughing with some of the comments coming out of the people in there.

I was sitting next to an Irish guy and his wife and he was very quick witted, but quiet with it.

Nice bloke. 

A couple from the East Midlands probably around our age came and sat next to us and we began chatting.

They were lovely.

So open and friendly and this is definitely what we've missed on this latter part of the trip, obviously because of the language barrier, so it was nice to relax and have a laugh.

They were telling us that after seven years away from England, we would notice a big change.

Lots of unrest with immigrants and asylum seekers and the country isn't what it was.

We had seen a bit of this on any news items we've seen on tele and they said if they didn't have kids and grandkids, they would have looked at somewhere like N.Z. or Australia.

Mentioned the people on the streets everywhere and the increase in not just crime (ie burglary, shop lifting, but violent stuff like rapes, murders and assaults)

It didn't paint a nice picture and we wondered why we were catching this flight.

Eventually, their flight was called and we wished them all the best. 

The time pushed on and finally we made our way through the gate and down into a huge basement like area where we waited, whilst standing.

A group in front of us boarded a bus to take them to their plane and we waited thinking we would be next. 

A Ryan Air flight had just landed and taxied in, standing on the tarmac in front of us.

Suddenly, that flight begins to disembark. We all stand watching as that happens and their luggage is taken from the hold.

Then the carts pulling more luggage pulls up alongside.that plane and they start putting it on board. 

We realise then that this is going to be our flight, with one very quick turnaround.

I'm thinking,

"I hope they don't forget to fill er up."

Ju here. We board the plane and Pete's on 7B and I'm sitting in 16D. But that's ok, we figure we'll sleep for the duration of the three and a half hour flight. Wrong!!

Each of us got maybe an hour of head bobbing, eyes closed, sore neck, not sure you'd call it sleep.

Even though we'd taken off at 10pm, we arrived in Liverpool at 11.30pm as the UK are two hours behind Greece. Had a very efficient plane exit and the fastest queue to get through customs I've ever seen. 

For maybe the second time ever, we had a jovial customs guy who welcomed us to Liverpool, then it was straight through to Baggage Claim where we collected the bikes and then into the very quiet Arrivals Hall.

I wanted to try and sleep but Pete wanted to get the bikes put together. I looked at the dozen or so people sleeping on the very comfortable looking couches, two of whom were in close proximity to where we were and pointed them out to Pete. No, he still wanted to put the bikes together. Didn't think this would go particularly well as we were both knackered but we split the tape and quietly removed the bikes and got started.....