Athens, Greece

Summer arrived sooner than the bulk of tourists expected in July. Each year one million visitors tread upon the slick marble stairways of the Acropolis. It is a city of well-worn pathways foreign yet familiar.

It was a pleasure to see Ot again. From a lanky seventeen-year-old he had grown into a handsome young man. He was taller, his face more mature, and his sparkly brown eyes just as mischievous. He sported a day’s growth of beard which he said the girls liked. His English had vastly improved. “Oh, that was some great food on the airplane,” were his first words. “Very nice people here in the hotel. It’s a spectacular city.”

Watching Ot Pi perform on his bike was like the breath held at the peak of a rollercoaster ride. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until just after he had achieved his next seemingly unattainable goal.

Ot Pi, Trials Matador

In three days Ot Pi covered ground at the National Garden, the Acropolis, the Plaka, the Parliament Building, and at Sounion, known for its temple ruins by the sea. There Ot was a matador, tantalizing the raging bulls of rock and sea. We tried not to think that if he fell, the pumice would cut him to shreds. And frothing water would consume him. He executed his moves, performing safe landings on rubber tires.

The Greek government and tourism board issued the crew a piece of paper typed in Greek which we could not understand. And although we presented it to anyone in authority at all the above sites expecting clearance to shoot video, Mark and I still had to grease a few palms with drachmas to get certain shots.

The Raging Priest

We shot a sequence where Ot hops his bike over two prone men. This patch of cement was located in front of a big Greek Orthodox church in the Plaka. And these childlike stunts incurred the wrath of a black-clad Orthodox priest who refused to look at the dog-eared paper. He raged until we began to shut down the production.

Of course as soon as he disappeared we resumed the shoot.

Negotiations in the Plaka

On our last night with Ot, he and I decided to conduct a little tourist jaunt through the shops of the Plaka. Just as we stepped into a jewelry and curio shop, an unexpected downpour began outside. It rained so hard that a flash flood churned up almost to the top step of the shop.

Ot and I were obviously marooned there for a while. So we resumed negotiations with the shopkeeper on a silver ring which had attracted me, but which I had put back, thinking it cost too much. Ot joined in the negotiations and as the rain stopped outside and waters receded, the shop manager, Ot and I came to agree on a certain price, and the ring was mine.

Years later, whenever I wear the ring, I think of that little cubbyhole of a shop, the raging rain, the way Ot Pi charmed the shopkeeper into settling for less. And my wet and wild moment alone with the greatest World Champion Mountain Bike Trials champion of his time.