Motorcycle Magazines

It's so good to read a little bit about the city before the trip. Well, let's just say I already knew the subway and the bus were coming from the airport to the city, and then I knew the number of the right route. Get on the bus, run the ticket, go. I've been in the sun, I've learned that we're going wrong. Then I remembered the map and calmed down because it's not a straight route due to the mountains.
While I was driving, I was hit by a two-wheel drive: scooters, mopeds, motorcycles were overwhelmed, round the rows, back around almost the laundry. Their drivers are very different ages, and young people and old, ancient beards, and middle-aged, were riding in helmets and without their own. I wonder if motorcycles were mostly in the class of road or tourist endures, where they were less sporting and almost no choppers. Only after that, I saw at some American college, there were seven healthy Harleys.
Express from the airport stops in Syntagma's square, it's the center of the city. Walking around, I went to the labyrinth of small pedestrians, very resembling the Old City in Stockholm or the center of Paris. Beginning without a map was pretty hard, as there was little parallel street. Troturas here were very narrow and usually parked cars or two-wheeled machines, and they often had to walk around this whole carriageway. The feeling is tightly increasing the trees. They're starting to feel like this town's gone, it's all grown up, and then people turn around and started to live it. A lot of shoppers and cafes, lots of tables on the sidewalk, which doesn't help but create a sense of cozy.

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