In which Sid and Doris go from Greece to Italy then fly home, leaving the car in Verona while the clutch hydraulics are fixed. But this is not the end.
The stop in Kavala was great with roof top views to the fort and sea but left a long way to go to Igoumenitsou port.
We have been playing with the fuel gauge and now have quite a good understanding. At ¾ it is almost full, probably over 100 litres. 
Here is the gauge at 1/16th when we could still get 71 litres in, so still 30 litres or 180 Monit kilometres in the tank. Either way it has run without complaint on 95 throughout.
Right by this off-motorway filling station a cafe with men already busy and a proprietor with a quick mind for the prices to charge people who will never come back.
We are making such good time that Doris proposes a deviation via the old road and the Pindos Mountains. 
The new road came about ten years before. Vegetation is closing in, parts of the road have fallen down the hill, cows wander along the road, 
many cafes that lived off the traffic are closed. It is a charming interlude and we find Dim’s Grill open for lunch. Just as well, as it was a long time to dinner. Sid has the lamb, and they bring about a dozen tasty little chops.
The Enak ferry is going to be late. Sid is for going into a hotel. Doris is for whiling away the time with car washing and cafe squatting. AIS shows that the Olympic Champion is in Patras. Local staff insist it will be in shortly. The AIS is correct. We have the traditional party in the ferry queue with Jo and David Roberts (with their Subaru, TR4 and Covid).
The ferry that was timetabled to leave at 8.15 left about midnight. 
Even divine intervention from the on-board icons could not speed the boat along. Having a big cabin makes it more bearable.
Naturally on Wednesday it docked late and we were off at 4.30pm instead of 11.00am. Bologna looked too far and we stopped at Faenza where the hotel had a charming collection of ceramics.
Spica was known to Sid as a maker of Italian fuel injection. Here on the spark plug sample box we read: Societa Porcellana Italiana d’Accessione. There are of course items of Faience not car related.
Doris has found Michelin Red Guide in e form and dinner is at a delicatessen that has a restaurant. We ask them to bring tasty local things and dine with a mother whose child is keen to speak and hear English, which is fun.
On Thursday our next stop, via a non-motorway trundle through the countryside, is Verona on the other side of the Po across the plain. 
Sid delights in the box bridge built in 1949…. And the less well known leaning tower of Castelguglielmo.
Sid is thinking, I believe we can get the car home with no further dramas and some fine country road driving. Doris finds the way over the Adige bridge into Verona’s old city. The clutch goes soft. We get around the corner and stop in front of the Hotel Accademio. Clutch fluid is pouring from the bell housing onto the floor.
Doris finds the Tulip garage, specialising in classic rallying. Receptionist Anna speaks to Tulip and soon a trailer is on its way. At lunchtime. While we wait, tourists ask if they can take photographs of the car (the answer is always yes of course) and then say “but not with you in it” which is a little unflattering as Doris observes, wiping the sweat off her hot greasy face with her disheveled and dirty hat.
Sid goes out to the workshop which is not dis-heartening as they have Alfa and Porsche race cars strewn about.
So we set about touring Verona, which we lighted on because last time we were here it was with Teal on a rally with no time for flanning about. Soon we have been around the arena where the opera festival is underway. Each night they put on Nabucco, Carmen or Aida each with enormous scenes and casts. A tower crane acts as the fly tower.
On Friday the garage starts work while S and D go on Doris-tours to see the Roman theatre and its engaging museum. The cathedral complex also falls to the earnest seekers after knowledge and sensation.
A message comes around mid-day that all might be fixed by 5pm. At 5.15 our call goes unanswered so Doris says let us taxi out and see what gives. Sadly it is not so simple as a hydraulic line having rubbed through. What gives is that the Tilton 6000 concentric slave cylinder has had a seal fail. 
Our mechanic has all the technical drawings out on his desk. Great for the morale, although the 6000 series is not in the Tilton Italy catalogue so getting spares will take some time. Happily we later find the seal kit in stock at Competition Supplies, Silverstone.
Saturday morning Alessandro tries to bodge in an AP seal, but no one is surprised when that doesn’t work. It will be a few days before the parts arrive and by now Sid and Doris have seen the arena, the Old Museum with charming Caroto, 
the main churches, the ice cream shops and a bar in the main square with Negronis and jazz.
Doris books a Saturday afternoon flight to Stansted. This makes for a calm Saturday morning visit to the Giusti house
and gardens with the plan made: go away, come back when all fixed, resume pleasant journey in funny old car.
The Verona to Stansted flight is less delayed than the Ancona ferry but is very full. Wily Doris finds how not to wait for an expensive airport taxi and soon Sid and Doris are drinking Campari in Adventure Headquarters.
In the next exciting instalment S and D intend to visit Obergurgl (with its TOP Mountain Motorcycle Museum) and will try not to bore you with details of how they manage to return to Verona amid airport chaos across Europe.
Is Verona still, in fact, fair? It seems so. Although one wonders how the story might have been different if one or both booked a Saturday afternoon flight to Stansted. As it is…the story ends the same way every time.