Category Archives: Greece

Voyage to Venice (and beyond!)

(hover over the pictures to see captions, or click on the first one of each set to scan through them in full size)


On the morning of the 9th of May, at 0530! We’re waiting in the dark on an empty Igoumenutsa dockyard for the ferry to Venice..

Soon a couple more hopefuls turn up and by 0630 the ferry is here. It starts it’s journey at Patra (North West Peloponnese), where it seems, the majority of people get on. With a bit of manoeuvering, we’re in our spot on the ‘open deck’, and plugged in to free onboard electrics. Glad I’m not driving the artic’s that will have to reverse back down the ramp, with mm to spare, when we disembark! The weather’s fine and it’s a smooth crossing. We find we can sit in a patch of sun on the car deck and stay out of the wind and away from the smell of diesel and fried food on the upper decks. It’s certainly a very effortless way to cover around 500 miles (and the overland distance is a whole lot more). Every now and then we check our position via a mapping app. on my phone – the captain seems to know where he’s going J

It’s a beautiful calm and sunny morning as we arrive in Venice. They’ve recently changed the route in and unfortunately we no longer go anywhere near the old city. It’s just visible in the distance beyond the miles of fish traps and lagoons.

As we leave the ferry terminal, we immediately notice how busy everything seems …and organised – there’s road markings: bus lanes, bike lanes, and signs and parking meters. We’re definitely not in Greece anymore! We head out onto one of the thin strips of land that form the final barrier to the sea here and manage to find some free parking (there’s very little of it!) at Punto Sabioni. It’s all madly busy compared to what we’ve got used to. There are loads of huge campsites and bungalow parks here, and importantly a ‘vaporetto’ stop (the water busses that take you to the various islands of Venice). Having shelled out a fortune on tickets for the next 3 days (2 x 40eu + 3eu for a map), we find a spot by the river/canal and read and watch the many! boats go by for the afternoon.

We spend the next few days exploring Venice and the surrounding islands. It’s an amazing place and unfortunately, SO busy. luckily you can see a lot from the vaporetto, and we make good use of our ‘go anywhere’ tickets. It’s also VERY expensive – we payed 24eu each for a multi museum pass. They last for 6 months, so would be reasonable value if you could make use of them for that time – but then you’d need to keep shelling out for the water busses. We visited the famous Doge’s Palace, the Correr Museum and Mocenigo’s Palace – All housing hugely impressive paintings, sculptures and other works of art; the importance and significance of which, being mostly lost on us. The majority of the paintings are allegorical and unless you understand ‘what’s going on’, they all become a bit ‘samey’. You really need to be a bit of an expert. We’d been warned not to buy anything to eat or drink in, or near, St, Mark’s square, but were still charged 9 euro! for 2 coffees in an apparently insignificant spot – argh!

We enjoyed wandering the tiny back streets. We discovered the market (the fish section was particularly impressive) and we even managed pizza and wine in a quiet square without completely breaking the bank.

We popped into several of the old churches and joined the other queuing hordes for St. Mark’s Cathedral. The ceilings in St. Marks are all done in tiny mosaics with a propensity of gold, but although they are probably more unique, after the highly painted Orthodox churches of Greece and Eastern Europe, we found it rather disappointing after all the hype.

A day on the island of Burano, with it’s brightly painted houses was a nice change from the hubbub of the main city. We had lunch out here too – being surrounded by lagoons full of fish; fish and shell-fish are specialities. Here we also discovered a restored walled garden, planted with flowers and vegetables and vines, as it would have been when these islanders were self-sufficent. I’m surprised they didn’t struggle for fresh water in the middle of a salt-water lagoon.

We spent a few, rather more relaxing, days based near Punto Sabioni, finding some free, allocated motorhome parking (surprisingly along the road outside a campsite) and later a beach carpark with no parking restrictions. The area is completely flat with many marked cycling routes and we explored more on the bikes in the warm wind. It reminds us a lot of Holland, with fields divided by canals and quite a bit of ‘reclaimed’ land; below sea level. It was quiet and peaceful as we headed out along dykes into ‘lagoon land’; home to lots of wading birds.

On Saturday 16th of May, we head off towards Lago di Garda (Lake Garda). It’s very busy on the roads and we pass seemingly endless industry and huge shops, interspersed with some agriculture. Roundabout follows roundabout on badly surfaced roads (we’re avoiding the motorway tolls). Traffic flow seems fast; it’s a rough ride for Heidi. We comment on the neatly clipped verges, trees cut back from the road and relatively fresh road markings. Again; it’s not Greece! We stop for water and a loo empty at Soave, home of the wine, at an official ‘sosta’ (like the French ‘aires’), before continuing to another one right on Lake Garda. There are free motorhome services here too, but they’re charging 15euro! to park for 24hrs and it’s packed. So is everywhere here. The many campsites seem full too. We stay at Garda for a couple of days, discovering a small free carpark 10 mins walk from the lake front on our second night. It’s a lovely spot, and we enjoy swimming in the lake and wandering along the lakeside path between Garda and Bardolino, bringing back memories of 15 years ago when we spent holidays here in a tent, two summers in a row. We decide it’s got overly popular and too busy for our liking now though, and escape to the other (West) side, which is less busy at the moment, before continuing to Lake Iseo to the West.

We continue to be shocked at how built up and busy everywhere is in these parts, and there seem few attractive places for us to stop. There are a lot of tunnels through the mountains, and the sat-nav struggles to determine whether we are above or below ground, more than once asking us to turn off at a roundabout somewhere far above us. The smaller roads really are tiny too, and although they have ‘no lorries’ signs, there are, unhelpfully, no size or weight restrictions. This normally means it’s fine for us, but not around here! With little information, we choose a small car park by a bridge over a river, at Sarezzo, which turns out to be in an industrial estate, for lunch, followed by a lakeside carpark on a point sticking out into the lake at a place called ‘Castro’ at the North end of Lake Iseo; you’d guess an attractive spot with surely a castle, wouldn’t you? No, it’s dominated by heavy industry with no sign of a castle. At 9pm they were still crashing and banging (steel on rock or vice versa, it sounded like). Surely they don’t do it all night, there are a lot of (ugly) flats very close too. We moved to the other side of town and had a relatively quiet night in the harbour / marina carpark, before heading North, up the valley, towards the high Alps.

The weather deteriorates now – that’s the trouble with mountains – and we have heavy rain and there’s a fresh sprinkling of snow at any height. It all comes as a bit of a shock, having got used to the heat. We dig out trousers and socks! and fleeces, and even resort to heating! This was not the plan! We consider the pass above Tirano as our route into Switzerland, but change our mind as the grey clouds descend. Instead, we head West again, towards the top of Lake Como, half way down it’s west side to Menaggio, and West again, on the SS340 to Porlezza at the top of Largo di Lugano. Como looked attractive, but was madly busy on the only road around it’s edge and we saw nowhere for us to pull off and stop, other than directly into a campsite. Porlezza was thankfully quieter, with several car parks and even one without time restrictions – a rarity in these parts! It’s an attractive place with some parkland alongside the lake. We could have easily lingered.

In the morning, we drive a short distance along the lake shore and out of Europe. Switzerland is independent and there is even a manned border post, but they show little interest in us and wave us through. We come to Lugano and stop at a cash point for Swiss Francs. No Euros here. We get 100 of them for about £70. Lugano is packed and busy with lots of blocks of flats, mostly 6 or 7 stories high, but some much higher. It seems here, as with Northern Italy, any remotely flat bit of land is built on. We quickly join the A2 motorway, heading North and over the high mountains. We’re supposed to have a motorway ‘vignette’ (we think?), but have seen no signs to confirm this or any obvious means of obtaining one. We were thinking of driving the San Gottardo Pass, but signs say it’s closed, so the motorway tunnel is the only way to go anyway. The pass is presumably closed due to recent snow – I thought we’d be all right at this time of year. When we emerge on the North side, it’s in to grey, misty cloud and it’s raining – glad we didn’t go over the top, even if it had been open!

We stay on the motorway until Lucerne, where we turn off, hoping to find somewhere to stop. We don’t. Everywhere is far too busy for our liking. It’s grey and damp and the forecast is much the same for the week ahead. We make the decision to keep going, and head for France, where we know there are hundreds of places that welcome campers to stop for free. (Not much use for the Swiss Francs!) Hopefully the weather will be better too, away from the high mountains? Having decided we’ve probably tempted fait too long with our motorway stint, we take a non-motorway route West, towards Basel. It continues to be a nightmarishly busy. We’re shocked, at how built up, highly populated and full of industry and big business Switzerland seems to be. The beautiful old buildings and bright green grass are still there, but it seems, these days, more often than not, they’re surrounded by square grey and white modern boxes. Obviously much of Switzerland is taken up with the high, fairly impenetrable, mountains, and from what we could see, the side roads were very small and steep – not for us (and we’ll give most things a go!). We’ll need to do some more research before we venture back. There must surely be some motorhome friendly places?
Just south of Basel, we turn off, and are quickly into France – instant quietness and ruralness. The Alsace region, covered in rolling fields, attractive farms and villages with colourfully painted, ancient timber frame buildings is very welcome after a couple of weeks of busyness in Northern Italy and Switzerland. We stop at a dedicated ‘aire’, behind the church in the quiet village of Oltingue. There’s a big car park here, complete with 3 large dedicated camper places, surrounded by neatly clipped flower beds. Full services are provided for us. You need to put 2eu in the meter for water, but parking is free. Happy chickens pecking about in the garden next door complete this rural idle. What a difference a border makes! Shame about the 24hr clock chimes, but compared to the, electrically amplified, Greek variety they’re much more bearable.

We stay in Oltingue for 3 nights. Everybody seems friendly, wishing us “Bonjour” and “Bon weekend”. We have a couple of bike rides, enjoying the green fields and woodlands and relative quietness. It all looks very neat and organised. It’s become a popular area for Storks, and we find a refuge for them close by, with ready made platforms for them to build their nests on. We watch the young being fed and ‘Daddy Stork’ flying off for more food.

For Sunday lunch in Oltingue, we venture to a local restaurant and choose ‘Tarte Flambe’. They’re like a pizza, but with crème fraiche, or similar, in place of the tomato sauce. In German they’re called ‘Flamkoeken’. We had one back in August, last year, when we were in Ulm, Germany (…-of-the-danube/) – another reminder that cultures and traditions are not necessarily divided by national borders. There are a lot of impressive old half-timbered properties around these parts – again very similar to their German counterparts that we saw in the Swartzwald (Black Forrest) area. It seems a wealthy area and we assume these places must be worth a fortune, but are surprised to find you can buy a huge place with acres of land and huge barns (ideal for parking a Heidi in?) for 150-200k. Interesting!

We move on; stopping at Hirtzbach with it’s wealth of restored and brightly painted houses, before continuing to Mulhouse, where we park up out of town and head into the centre on the bikes. Mulhouse has an attractive centre square, lined with ancient buildings including the St. Etienne Cathedral and the beautifully restored and painted town hall. The town hall houses the extensive ‘Musee Historique’. Much of the info. is only in French or German, the majority of which is beyond us, so we’re pleased to find an English speaking ‘guardien’ who was keen to talk about the main hall (Salles du Fetes). This room has seen a lot of history! All the previous ‘Burgermeister’s’ shields (coats of arms) are here, going back to the 1300s! Mulhouse (for a time Mulhauzen) has variously been Swiss, German, French or an independent state. We realise we have no knowledge of where Switzerland fits in to the whole historical border thing? Something else to add to the research list! We enjoy a drink in the sunny square, before heading back to the van and continuing to the ‘Ecomusee’ (open air museum) at nearby Ungersheim.

The Ecomusee (, costing us 14eu each, is one of the largest open air museums in Europe. It houses all kinds of Alsatian heritage stuff; loads of reconstructed and restored half-timbered houses, farms and businesses from the surrounding area. These buildings would have been originally designed and pieced together off site anyway, so lend themselves to being moved. There’s demonstrations of traditional skills; A forge, a pottery, a cartwright, various cooking using the traditional ovens, tours of the kitchen gardens and the surrounding sustainably managed farmland, a nature reserve etc. etc. …and storks nesting and wandering around everywhere! Unfortunately lot’s of the demonstrations were not actually happening and about half of the fancy recorded information points weren’t working (and these had the best English info.). It kept us busy and entertained for most of the day, but was overall a bit disappointing.

On the 29th of May, we drive on towards ‘Le Ballon D’Alsace’. ‘Le Grand Ballon’ is the highpoint around here at 1424m. Most of the area is densely forested with occasional open spaces and views for miles – as far as the Alps on clear days. It’s not that clear for us, but we can see the Rhine valley laid out before us, and to the beginnings of the hills of the Black Forrest in the distance. It seems a popular, busy area, criss-crossed with hundreds of marked walking routes. There’s numerous lakes and waterfalls too, and with careful choosing, we found quiet, dark overnight spots; enjoying the stars and the owls by night and loads of twittering birds by day. The weather is still very changeable. We have a good sunny day, out walking, but also lots of rain, encouraging us to keep moving.

On the 1st of June, we wake up in a cloud! It’s damp and drizzly and we head out of the mountains and towards more rolling green hills in the Loraine region. The weather improves towards the end of the day as we drive along long straight roads lined with trees – very French! We end up at Lac Madine, the largest lake in the region, where we stay at an official ‘aire’ near Heudicourt-sous-les-Cotes. They’re charging 5eu a night, but that includes services. There’s even loos and showers available. There’s a campsite here too, and holiday chalets, and a conference centre etc. etc. You can walk/cycle round the lake (20km) or on a bigger circuit, which we did, around the surrounding villages (35km). On our ride, we visited the American war memorial, on the hill at Montsec – an exhausting climb, but with spectacular views of the surrounding country. This, of course, is what made it such a strategic and, fiercely fought over, location. It was controlled by the Germans for much of WW1, before being taken by an American organised offensive with huge loss of life. There are a lot of war memorials and various battlefield sites in this whole area (which has changed hands many times during both the world wars). We came across leaflets on ‘Battlefield Tourism’ – a somewhat strange concept.

We spend another couple of days in this very green place – it’s dominated by fields of wheat and other crops, and acres of mixed deciduous forests – and it’s all covered in bright green new growth. It seems, thankfully now, a very quiet and peaceful region. We find an isolated small carpark on a quiet back road and spend a day walking the woodland paths, discovering the art of the ‘Vent des Forets’ project, which each year invites international artists to place works over the area – they’re connected via a 45km network of paths. We recover from what was rather a long walk by spending another day, mainly sitting, reading, and just enjoying the quiet ‘greenness’ and the birdsong. It’s hot (35C) and the sky is a clear, cloudless blue. No more than 4 or five cars pass in 24hrs. Another! good spot. At 8pm, we’re still sitting outside wearing very little. At 9 the sun descends below the horizon, and at 11 it’s still feeling warm with a pinky glow along the horizon. We watch the bats and listen to the foxes calling..


Friday 5th of June. It’s going to be another hot hot day. Time to head north; if for no other reason than to create a bit of breeze! We wend our way through quiet green countryside; fields and fields of wheat and other crops; sleepy villages – huge barns with small houses attached. We visit an unusual modern church in the woods, and then the, disturbingly huge, American war cemetery at Romagne-sous-Montifaucon. In the afternoon, we try and find some respite from the heat at a shaded picnic area; but after a couple of hours of 36 degree heat with a wind that feels like a hair dryer, we decide to continue and drive on to Montherme, on a tight bend of the River Meuse. It’s an officially allocated motorhome spot and very popular; there must be 20 vans here. We join everybody else sitting on the grassy river bank and enjoy a drink as the heat finally relents and gives way to thunder and rain by the evening. We’re now in the Ardenne region. Steeply wooded slopes, lead down to the winding river. There’s signposted walking and bike routes in both directions – another place we’ll put on the ‘must come back to’ list.

In the morning, we’re quickly through the Ardennes cross-country skiing areas and into the much flatter lands further north. We blink, and the signs have changed from French to Dutch (or Flemish?). We skirt the southern edge of Bruxelles before heading West across completely flat land, dotted with Friesian cows and farmhouses with red tiled roofs. We’re travelling fast on the now free, and very busy, motorways. In no time, we reach the coast and head South again to find the place we’d visited before at Zuydcote, near Dunkirk. It’s just over 11 months since we were here last (   and there’s been a few miles (aprox.  8510m / 13700km) under our wheels since then. How many of you, reading this, have done more than that driving backwards and forwards to work, I wonder?

Time to relax for a few days. We do some washing, buy a ticket back to the UK, and consider our next move….

Beach Bums


On the 20th of April we headed back West, along the North coast of the Peloponnese towards Patra and took the ferry from Rio to the mainland (it cost us 11eu, about half the price of the bridge?). Our journey takes on a new feeling, as we realise we have less than a month left of our time in Greece: schedules – we hate schedules!

We spend a pleasant few weeks, slowly heading up the West coast towards Igoumenitsa (where we’ll catch a ferry to Venice, Italy). The weather has suddenly improved, and we ‘lap up the rays’. We feel we’ve been rather deprived for too long now!

We head for Mesologi and out across the causeway to what isn’t much more than a sandbank beyond the lagoon. It’s a strange sort of place. We’re effectively a couple of miles out to sea here – it can get a bit windy! It’s difficult to know how much of it is natural and how much manmade. The whole area is part of the Evinos River delta and has been variously partitioned off for fish farming, salt production and more recently wild life reserves. It’s flat of course, enticing us to get out on the bikes. Cycling out into ‘the middle of nowhere’ on the thin strips of land dividing one bit of water from another reminds us of the Dutch dykes. It’s very quiet and peaceful. We spot Flamingos, Pelicans, Stilts, White herons and other wading birds. Unfortunately much of the track we follow around the main (‘Kilsova’) lagoon is bone-shakingly rough loose stone. We veer of onto the dry mud-flats for a bit – a weird desert-like landscape, but much easier cycling. We discover the remains of fishing shacks out nearest the ‘actual’ sea. Most are now holiday places and still deserted at this time of year. Some, unfortunately, have ‘guard’ dogs and, not for the first time in Greece!, we’re chased by ferocious specimens, scaring Elaine to death. Just what is it in the Greek mentality that makes people think it’s reasonable to have ferocious dogs running free?!!

Nb. You can see these photos full size by clicking on the first one, then scanning through. (close using the small white x at top left)

We liked the town too. It’s a bustling place with several pedestrianised shopping streets and a main square surrounded by cafes. There’s plenty of parking all around the perimeter if you wanted to be a bit closer, or the wind out on the point got a bit much. There’s a big marina there too. There’s a market, which we unfortunately just missed, on a Tuesday morning, and you can buy fresh fish daily on the quay. We could have easily spent more time there.

As we head North, we stop briefly at Astokos, then spend a couple of nights on the beach just beyond Paleros, before continuing to the island of Lefkada or Lefkas, as it is usually known in English. You can drive to Lefkas via a bridge (which is actually a boat) which moves to let the numerous yachts through the canal into the marina. The Marina is huge and is the main base for several yacht charter companies in this area.

We spend a week exploring Lefkas and it’s stunning West coast beaches. The water is an almost unreal turquoise and sooo clear. Swim, swim swim! Unfortunately a lot of the roads down to the coast are far from Heidi friendly. We twice randomly follow signs to ‘beach/taverna’ only to find ourselves on very steep, very narrow roads with very tight hairpins. There were the potholes, overhanging trees and a complete lack of passing places – they’re single track of course! One turned into a rough dirt track, and we chickened out on another as it proceeded to get steeper and steeper down what was almost a cliff face. We could see miles of sandy beach and turquoise water a long way below – shame. We drove a circuit of the island. We visited Nikiana, Poros Beach and then Syvota, on the South East, where we had joined a Sailing Holiday’s yacht flotilla in 2008 for our first foray into yachting – seems a long time ago now. It’s an attractive and sheltered sailing area and we’re surprised to find the place only just beginning to open for the season, with no sign of Sailing Holidays yet.

Whilst on Lefkas, we witness the start of the season and the change is dramatic. Initially the beaches are all but deserted, but on the 1st of May, that all began to change; the sun-loungers and umbrellas suddenly appeared, wooden walkways down on to the beach were installed, signs were put up and beach clubs began to open, not to mention the increased hire car traffic on the roads. The heat suddenly moved up a notch too, with daytime temperatures of 25 – 30 degrees C. On the 3rd of May we woke up in the carpark above the famed Porto Katsiki beach to discover they were weeding and clearing loose stone away and had put up a sign saying ‘Municipal Parking 3euro’ – and the guy wasted no time in coming to ask for his fee! We then returned to Kalamitsi Beach, where we had previously spent several quiet days and nights, only to find it positively busy. It was quite a shock, and we can only assume that this is the weekend that the local airport at Prevesa opens and starts bringing in the first of the package holiday people. Luckily it was still quiet at night, but I can’t see that being the case as the season progresses.

After Lekfas, we head inland to Vonitsa. It’s hardly inland, and still has a beach overlooking what is actually still the sea, though it’s more like a lake, reached by the narrow entrance at Prevesa. We wander into town, realising we’re just too late for the market (Monday morning). We seem to be good at missing markets – must spend more time in one place in the future. We liked Vonitsa; another ‘real’ place where locals live year round, with all the shops and services you’d expect. It’s also got an attractive front, lined with cafes and tavernas and the sizable remains of a Venetian castle, which we didn’t get round to visiting. We parked just outside town, right on the beach, overlooking Koukoumitsa island. You can walk to, and around, Koukoumitsa via a causeway; a nice stroll under the shade of the pine trees. It’s very popular with the locals for a ‘volta’ (the equivalent of the Spanish ‘paseo’), early morning or late afternoon / evening. The water’s warmer here than on the real coast too as it’s very shallow, but the hundreds of tiny sea urchins lining the shore are less than welcome – ouch! There are welcome, warm thermal breezes in the afternoon and at night the town, the castle and the causeway / bridge is all lit up. We sit out till late enjoying the ‘twinkly’ lights and see fire-flies in the darkness behind us. Vonitsa is also the home of a naughty dog with a taste for collecting shoes. Don’t leave your shoes outside unguarded! – one of Elaine’s had to be retrieved from the other end of the beach, and I caught him trying to make off with mine! I later discovered a line of 3 mismatched shoes by a nearby tree, with the grass all flattened down around it – the ‘shoe thief’s lair’ hehe.


We move on; stopping at the many miles of sandy beach to the North West of Prevesa, and then at Ammoudia for our last couple of days in Greece. Ammoudia is a popular spot, and there are several other campers here. Apparently it gets very busy later in the season. It was once a real place, but now only a few families live here over the winter. There are lots of hotels and apartments, but they’re still mainly closed up. We enjoy our last Greek taverna lunch overlooking the river and the fishing-boats in one of the few places that is open, and later a last Greek swim, before heading for Igoumenitsa and the ferry.

As we prepare to leave Greece, we try to collect our thoughts and impressions of the country. The good and the bad. We realise that in the just over 7 months that we’ve been here, we’ve barely scratched the surface. Winter is probably not the best time to spend time in Greece. Many of the coastal places are closed up and feel dead and much inland is high, mountainous and covered in snow and ice. We’ve had snow and sub-zero temperatures at sea level! We’ve seen surprisingly (or perhaps it’s not?) few campers, and when we have, it was often those we’d seen previously. We stayed on campsites a couple of times and walked through, or past, others. They were all very quiet, with only a handful of winter residents. We decided they didn’t suit us, making us feel more isolated from the world outside the gates. Other than a washing machine and perhaps free wifi, we have little need of campsite facilities anyway. We should have spent more time in some of the bigger towns, where everybody is in winter, but finding somewhere suitable to park for a long time can be difficult. We’re not really ‘town people’ either, generally finding them noisy and busy – maybe we’ll have to learn?…

Some final thoughts and memories –

We’ve enjoyed:

  • Dramatic scenery – especially the clear, turquoise waters (and the swimming – even if it was COLD!)
  • Numerous ancient sites (and the histories that go with them)
  • Food (Spinakopita, Gyros pita, Backlava, Squid, the Honey)
  • Spring flowers and the blossom.
  • Festivals (Epithany, Carnival, Easter..)
  • Trying to get to know ‘normal’ life here. We liked the markets, when we found them; something that seems all too lacking in the UK.

We’ve been surprised by:

  • Goats on beaches 🙂 – and in the road.
  • Crazy parking – the Greeks just stop anywhere to shop or chat; corners, zebra crossings, on roundabouts, across junctions – and of course double parking is common. They even have a special sign to tell you not to – it has no effect of course. And stopping on the single track road to go into a shop is normal too – you weren’t in a hurry to get by were you?
  • Fishing with hand throwing lines (a sort of tapered ring) that we’ve not seen before. Surprisingly effective. I bought one and just about mastered the throwing technique – but still didn’t catch anything. Fishing is done by all ages and sexes too – the elder women were just as likely to be doing it – Octopus a common target.
  • Monasteries in CRAZY places – it is simply unbelievable where they’ve managed to build them. And there are a lot!
  • ‘Development’. We found a lot of abandoned hotels and apartment complexes. Some we discovered were built illegally, some have suffered from shoddy construction and have been condemned, but some, we suspect, are just the ‘wrong sort of thing’ these days. In a world that is increasingly made up of the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’, individual villas seem to be the holiday accommodation of choice and the studios and apartments are loosing out. The rich want, and can afford, a large private villa and the poor can’t afford anything anymore. It’s shocking to realise that most of the development has happenned over only 40ish years. Greece was a very different place until comparitively recently!
  • Building rubble, and other rubbish, tips EVERYWHERE. Every single reasonably accessible place where you can pull off the road, or down a side lane, has become the local dump. I know it’s traditional with disposal services lacking – to tip it down the side of the mountain – but surely people can agree on fewer, bigger sites?
  • How quiet and empty many of the coastal and rural places are – and it’s not just the purpose made holiday places; a lot of these places once had thriving communities that are now city based, only returning to run a family taverna or hotel for the summer tourists. This is probably increasingly common everywhere, but it seems more true in Greece. It looks as if it won’t be long until the last elderly generation is gone and there will be no one outside of the main towns.
  • Mad roads. I don’t think we ever saw a width or weight restriction sign anywhere – but they are certainly needed! Perhaps one saying “this apparently wide, well surfaced, road may at any moment turn into a narrow dirt track with low, overhanging trees – oh and there will be nowhere to turn around or pass anyone coming the other way”. But where would the adventure be if they told you?!

We’ve not enjoyed:

  • The dogs! This has got to be our biggest grievance. The truly wild ones are usually fine, if unnerving; often following us on walks and sitting by the van hoping to be fed. The ‘guard’ dogs are something else. Left on there own for much of the time and only fed occasionally from what we could see; they go mad when they see someone, especially strangers. We’ve lost count of the times we’ve been chased by ferocious dogs, barking furiously, when we’re out walking, but especially on the bikes. The owners, if they’re around, are usually completely unable to call them off. We will be investing in ‘dog dazers’ and mace spray for a future trip! The Greeks seem to like to ‘walk’ their dogs by taking them somewhere in the car, chucking them out and then driving off, encouraging them to run after them – ah, so that’s where they learn to chase cars! Then there’s the all night barking!
  • The weather. It’s been cold, wet and grey for a lot longer than we’d hoped! This winter has been significantly worse than some we’ve been told.


are you sure this is where the boat leaves from?!!

are you sure this is where the boat leaves from?!!

Dhimitsana to Dhiakopto…


as usual, click on the sets of photos to see them full size with the captions ( close each time with the small ‘ x ‘ top left )

you can see where we’ve been on a Google map here:

Zoom and pan around. Click on the pushpins for more info, photos, and a link to the relevant blog. (note there’s no link on the most recent points – the blog isn’t written yet!)


We stay at Analipsi Beach, West of Kalamata, for couple of days. Its quiet and warm. We like! Then we head up into the mountains. We pass through Megalopoli (“Very Big” – the Greeks are full of imaginative town names!) It’s busy and the cafes are full. We stop briefly at Karitena, a hilltop village with a ruined castle and a Byzantine church, before continuing on to Stemnitsa where we stop for drinks and a ‘medium meze’ at the only place that’s open – good home cooked ham, feta, olives, tomatoes, a beer and a rose wine from the barrel in the cellar. This place is obviously on the tourist trail, but it’s hardly ‘woken up’ yet. We’re at around 1000m here. We contemplate the signposted walking routes, as we sit out in the sun wearing shorts, knowing how easily the weather here can still change at this time of year.

We stop for the night, just short of Dhimitsana, where we turn off down towards the ‘Water Power Museum’, and continue to the tiny village of Paliochori. This is the end of the road for a ‘Heidi’. It’s very small through the village and doesn’t go any further anyway. It’s a nice little place, surrounded by terraced fields and gardens – various plots for sale: tempting… . As we wander around, I’m accosted by an old lady, one of only 6 or 7? permanent residents here, but we can’t make each other understood. She smile’s anyway, and later stumbles across to some neighbours with the aid of a stick – It must be a very isolated existence here.

We take an evening stroll and investigate a path down into the gorge. There’s a raging torrent flowing where the path should be …which whisks me off my feet, leaving me with a wet bum and an unhappy camera. It doesn’t appear to have liked being thrown into a river …a rock may have been involved too! If the quality of the pictures deteriorate from now; you know why!.

The offending 'path'!

The offending ‘path’!

In the morning we opt for the road (much easier and very quiet) down into the gorge and head towards the Filosophou (Philosophy) Monastery. The path on the other side of the gorge is unstable and clinging to the side of a near vertical cliff – definitely scary! We take the road on the way back; better views and very, very little traffic. A good day.

The 4th of April brings low grey cloud. We definitely chose the right day for our walk. We drive up into Dhimitsana around lunchtime and wander around the tiny stepped paths between tightly packed houses.

Dhimitsana, clinging to the side of the hill

Dhimitsana, clinging to the side of the hill

There’s only one drivable road through here. The tavernas are offering; wild boar, rooster with tomatoes, mousaka – appealing on this cold day, but unfortunately Elaine is feeling unwell, so we give it a miss and decide to drive on, through the mountains. It’s a dramatic winding road, high above another deep gorge, passing through Lagadia and Lefkochori. A very tiring drive. Slowly we descend towards the coast again and stop at Ancient Olympia for the night. It was here that the Olympic Games began over 2,700 years ago. Loads more info. here:,_Greece

The next day brings more grey and it rains most of the day, but we’re here now and feel we should fit this last important bit of ‘old stuff’ into our schedule. We start with the museum, thinking it’ll surely dry up later – it didn’t. It’s busy. There are several coach loads of people here. I hate to think what it’d be like later in the season! There’s loads of artefacts that have been found during all the excavations here – pots, figurines, ‘votive offerings’, – many identical to the ones we saw at Mycanae, near Nafplio. There’s an impressive collection of the traditional tripod cauldrons / cooking pots, ranging from huge down to tiny models. The model ones were believed to be used for votive offerings, symbolising the heart of the home; showing the importance of food and thanking the gods for it.

There’s also lot’s of impressive statues. How do they know who they all are we wonder; they’re mostly headless!

After lunch, we head out again, umbrellas in hand, in the heavier! rain to look at the outside ‘old stuff’. It’s a huge site, and they’re still excavating. By now, we feel we’ve seen it all before though. It’s within, what is now, a beautiful bit of parkland and the trees are just getting their new, bright green leaves. There’s pink blossom and wild flowers everywhere, almost making up for the terrible weather. Eventually the rain stops and we watch an English school group having an impromptu race on the original Olympic track.

From Olympia, it’s down to Pyrgos, just inland from the coast. We skirt around the edge of this busy, unattractive town, noting a serious rubbish problem. There’s what must be weeks and weeks of it piled up everywhere; the original bin often barely visible beneath it (we never did discover what the issue was; thankfully it was isolated to a fairly limited area.)


Along the coast road through miles and miles of what must be the traditional fishing shacks / holiday places of the locals. They’re all tightly packed together, preventing any access to the beach for us; and there’s nowhere to park. Many places have been destroyed by the wind and the waves, and then a replacement built just inland. The whole place has a weird empty feeling – there’s virtually no one around. We move on to Katakalo on the point. There’s a yacht marina and a ferry and cruise ship terminal, and loads of parking, but it’s all pretty unappealing. We finish up nearby, in ‘our own private campsite’ – open grassy areas, surrounded by trees. It appears to be open, public land? Not sure we’ll tell everyone about this spot. hehe.

Next it’s north up the coast, stopping at Patronikoleika, next to a huge holiday resort showing no sign of opening for Easter – surprising. We visit Amaliadha for some shopping. It’s madly busy with narrow streets, and we gingerly squeeze between the usual double parked, or should I say ‘abandoned’, cars that Greece exemplifies. The whole coastal plain here is flat, agricultural land, with not much signs of life in the villages. It always comes as a shock to enter the odd big town and realise: oh, this is where everyone is. Cafes and bars are full, with people spilling out into the streets. There’s shops selling everything and people wear trendy, designer clothes. A big contrast to the rural areas. We find an AB supermarket and, surprisingly, a parking spot, before escaping the bedlam and heading off looking for somewhere more suitable for us over Easter weekend. It’s a shame that there’s rarely somewhere suitable for us to stay in these bigger places. It would be nice to be part of real life for a bit and get a feel of things – especially over Easter.

Heading back towards the coast, we discover miles and miles of sandy beaches, backed by dunes and pine forests. There’s little development and what there is, is still all closed up. The beaches and the rapidly improving weather temps us to stay for several days. We swim and lounge in the sun while we can; we haven’t exactly had lots of opportunity this trip.

The nearby town of Vartholomio is a manageable size for us and we find parking easily enough. With some determination and a bit of luck, we get our timing right to join in the Good Friday celebrations here. We visit the churches in the afternoon, checking out the elaborately decorated ‘Epitaphio’ (the symbolic bier of Christ – these days it’s designed to carry an Icon), ready for later. We return at 8.30pm, just as it is getting dark, to find the churches and the squares outside packed with people. There’s much singing and chanting going on inside and we push through the throng to see what’s going on. As seems to be the norm with Greek Orthodoxy, the ‘congregation’ doesn’t join in. There are 3 priests in different locations in the church, and as one stops his bit, it’s taken up immediately by another, all in the same singing / chanting voice. Occasionally a member of the public takes the mike for a short part too – presumably they are telling the Easter story. Like the many bell ringings, it’s all amplified as loud as possible and broadcast via speakers from the bell tower. There’s a huge queue to kiss the Icon amongst much genuflecting. We’re in it for a bit before realising and sidling off to the side. It’s not really our thing. We wonder at this massive exchange of saliva; you’d develop a strong immune system here! Everybody is here; all ages and all ‘walks of life’; the local farmers, the city visitors in the latest fashion (you can see the little old ladies in black looking disapprovingly at the young things in the shortest of short mini-skirts and ridiculously high heals). There’s some very young children and even, surprisingly, the odd immigrant worker. All are keen to kiss the Icon. Once the chanting is over and we’ve all been sprinkled with liberal amounts of holy oil, dished out into waiting hands, or over the children’s heads, from a fancy pourer thing, by the chief priest / bishop, we head outside into the square where the procession begins.

It’s all led by a brass band. There’s various crosses and symbols of various types carried on poles up front, followed by the Epitaphios from both the churches. The Priest is still being enthusiastic with the oil, as, what appears to be most of the town, follows the procession carrying candles and sprinkling flower petals. We join in with everyone for what turns out to be quite a long walk around the town. Most of the houses and businesses along the route have got candles burning and incense wafting. We stop at the cemetery for a bit whilst everybody lights candles at the family graves and the bell is constantly rung, before continuing. There are various stops for chanting and petal throwing and of course oil sprinkling ..and then there’s the bangers! A team of enthusiastic youth, walking rather to close to where we are, are intent on chucking them down every side street and onto every bit of wasteland or half-built building. They’re deafening.

Eventually, back at the appropriate churches, the Icons are restored to their places. Of course they need kissing again, but this time, people begin to pull the hundreds of flower heads from the decorated Epitaphio and take them away as they leave, heading for the surrounding bars and cafes.

It was quite an event, lasting at least a couple of hours. Apparently the follow-up is a midnight service on Saturday, culminating with the Priest appearing in complete darkness, with a single candle. The flame, having been lit from a ‘eternal flame’ in Jerusalem, and then flown to Athens and distributed to all the churches in the country! The flame is then passed around with repeated shouts of “Christos Anesti” (Christ is Risen), and then carefully carried home where the ‘head of the household’ makes a smoky cross above the front door with it.

For more info. on Greek Orthodox Easter Celebrations see this (as usual) very thorough account by Barry and Margaret of magbaztravels:   We seem to have missed out on much of this, either due to appalling weather or not being in the right place at the right time – another year perhaps?
After Easter we head towards Patra. As we pass the main ferry terminal to Italy, we spot plenty of hopeful, desperate looking, potential immigrants loitering near the gates and checking the place out. We’d heard stories of them trying to hide under or in your van as you board the ferry. We find a good spot on the beach at the other end of town, overlooking the impressive suspension bridge to the mainland. It’s busy with locals, fishing and swimming. We stay for a couple of days and manage to book a ferry (in a little over a months time) from Igoumenitsa, further up the coast, to Venice, from a local travel agent. It costs us 349eu, much cheaper than expected. We’d seen 460eu quoted online.

We thought about our return route for ages. The cheapest option is probably to drive up through the Balkans, but it’s a long way and we decided we’d just be rushing through places; which didn’t appeal – something for a future trip? There are also several, much shorter, ferry crossings to Italy, but they wouldn’t have been any cheaper by the time you’d factored in fuel and probable motorway tolls on the Italian side. And again, we felt we’d be rushing through places we’d like to stop at as we headed north. We’ve got what is termed a ‘camping on board’ ticket, meaning we don’t have a cabin or allocated seat, but can stay in the van. We can even plug-in to their electrics.

On the beach - north of Patra

On the beach – north of Patra

The impressive suspension bridge to the mainland

The impressive suspension bridge to the mainland

We make one last stop in the Peloponnese; Dhiakopto, on the northern coast, before we leave what has been home for getting on for five months (we crossed the Corinth Canal on 28th Nov 2014 – see our previous blog: ). We stayed in Dhiakopto for 5 nights. It’s obviously a popular spot just before or after the ferry from Patras which, it seems, is how most people get to and from here. We have a steady stream of neighbours from France, Switzerland, Germany and England. Having hardly seen any other vans for months it’s a bit of a shock.

The main reason for coming here was the cog railway trip up the spectacular Vouraikos Gorge. Unfortunately it’s now been modernised from the original steam train and is now all ultra modern. The scenery though, remains just as spectacular. So much so, that we took the train, a second time, up to the half way station and walk back down, so as to have more time to appreciate it. It’s a long walk for us; probably about 8 miles. It’s gently downhill all the way, which we thought would make it easy, but much of it is on the course chippings that make up the bed of the railway itself (there is nowhere else to go!), which didn’t make for easy or comfortable progress. You had to look out for the trains to, which couldn’t be heard above the sound of the raging river below. Luckily it’s a popular thing to do and the train drivers expect crazy walkers and are ready on the horn. In many places it’s only just possible to stand clear of the tracks. A great walk, albeit a very tiring one.

The train goes up to the town of Kalavrita, famous for a horrific massacre, during WW2, at the hands of the Nazis. Almost every male members of the population, over the age of 14, was executed by machine gun, on the 13th of December 1943, “as an act of revenge against the Greek national resistance”. All the houses were burnt to the ground and the womenfolk left to bury the dead, often with their bare hands, in the frozen ground. There is an excellent museum with videos of survivors’ accounts of events and a memorial on the hill above the town. Tears were shed! I am currently reading Hitler’s book; “Mein Kampf”. Learning about and trying to understand the histories of the war. It doesn’t get any easier!

We headed back towards Patra on the 20th April and took the ferry to the mainland from Rio. The ferry cost us 11eu. Obviously it takes longer than driving over the bridge, but we were told the bridge costs at least double that – and we’re not in a hurry. The plan is to meander up the West coast of Greece and then take the ferry to Venice from Igoumenitsa…

last night on the Peloponnese at Dhiakopto. A German neighbour tonight.

last night on the Peloponnese at Dhiakopto. A German neighbour tonight.

looking north to the mainland - there's still snow on the mountains..

looking north to the mainland – there’s still snow on the mountains..

March, Monemvasia, Mani


‘Flowers of The Mani’ – slideshow:

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We’d spent half of January, all of February, and the first few days of March around Nafplio and the ‘prefecture’ (area) of Argolida. (see our previous post: ‘Adventures in Argolida’)

March began with several warm, sunny days in a row. As I look back at our diary / logbook, I’m reading comments like: “sat out in the sun for morning coffee watching dolphins playing in the bay”, “got sunburnt” and “warm overnight – no heating needed”. We even went swimming. Was Spring finally here we asked ourselves?

We decided it was about time to move on and explore somewhere different, so on Wednesday 4th March, we’re on the road by 9am (early for us) and soon round the top of Nafplio Bay, past Argos, and taking the road down the other side towards Astros. From Astros we take the ridiculously steep, ‘hairpinny’, mountain road up, up, UP into the mountains with great views back down to the sea. As the road twists and turns, we pass isolated villages with no one about, reaching Aghios Petros at around 1000m. It looks rather out-of-place in this harsh landscape, clinging to the side of the mountain. It reminds us of the Welsh mountain villages; not the buildings, but the incongruousness, of its location. It’s cold and damp as we pass the empty square with it’s obliguitory masses of chairs and tables complete with tablecloths; just why the Greeks leave them out all winter in the rain and wind when no one is using them, we have yet to discover. We continue on up to a pass at just over 1200m. Interestingly, the trees increase as you go higher here, especially on north facing slopes. We pass through evergreen pine trees and then into, currently bare, deciduous woodlands. It seems very odd at this height! As we descend, it’s back to sparse scrub and bare rock – too hot for many trees in summer, we assume.


Eventually we join the main north-south road, heading south towards Sparti. We continue on down to Lakonikos Bay and then further south, down the Lakonian Peninsula. We stop for the night at Piltra (Xilis Bay). At this time of year, it’s virtually deserted, but they’ve obviously got big plans here. There’s new roads laid out and they’re even putting in ‘propper’ drainage everywhere! Several of the old stone buildings have been done up, and unusually, it looks as if there’s some kind of plan – we speculate that the whole place has probably been bought up by some private company – we’ve not seen this sort of thing in Greece to date. We park along from a beautiful stretch of sandy beach, on a new bit of road and ‘prom’ with marked parking places, but the grey clouds are looming again and the wind is getting fierce, so we soon move under some huge plane trees looking for some shelter.

The jack-hammers and diggers start on the roads again in the morning – time to move on! It’s a grey, blustery day as we head south. It’s a very different landscape than we’ve seen recently; much sparser development, and looking all the more attractive for it. We hug the windswept coast, where we can, along tiny roads. It would be worth a longer linger if the weather ever improves again; we had four days of sunshine in a row – was that it? We head inland for a bit, successfully avoiding the many dirt roads and pass through the usual oranges and olives (and immigrant labour) and then back towards the coast at Aghios Georgios and Pounta; the ferry landing across from the island of Elafonisos. There’s a nice sandy beach here and an area of dunes behind. There’s regular ferries throughout the day. The wind is getting wild. The choice is the small passenger / fishing boat being thrown about in the waves like a bit of driftwood, or the larger and more stable car ferry that you have to board at speed as the ramp scrapes across the jetty, never coming to a stop, before the ferry departs again. We choose neither and hope that Heidi is digging her fingers into the sand and hanging on!

It’s still blowing hard in the morning, but we’re still here! It’s into Neopolis for some shopping along the sand-strewn front, before heading back the way we’ve come looking for shelter. We find it, to some extent, and park on a grassy point overlooking the sea and the village of Archangelos. Archangelos is an attractive little place but virtually dead at this time of year. One taverna shows signs of life, but we suspect it’s just the family eating. The rest, and all the holiday apartments, are shut up and empty. We stayed in Archangelos for 3 days. We walked and cycled along this attractive and deserted section of coast and appreciated the abundance of wild flowers just beginning to bloom. One morning whilst out walking, I was stopped by a little old man in a big black ‘mafia-like’ Mercedes. He gruffly asked “where you from?”, “tourist?”, “you like Greece?”. Luckily it was a beautiful morning, and he seemed happy with my response of “ne, auria” (yes, beautiful/wonderful). “Today it is very cold in England” he said. I had to laugh, it was so obviously a ‘stock’ leant phrase – it may well have been true, and it was nice of him to make the effort. He continued with “Politik in Greece; Crap, Many crooks” before shaking his head and driving off. I wondered how he’d come by the Merc? It looked totally out-of-place in an area where most people drive beaten up, ancient pick-up trucks piled high with various farming paraphernalia.

By the 9th of March, the wind had moved round to the north and we were no longer sheltered. Heidi had been rockin’ and rollin’ all night and the wind was screaming through the vents driving Elaine nuts. We head over to the east coast via sparse rocky countryside with occasional patches of olives and pomegranate trees. The villages; Talandra, Aghios Dhimitrios, Velies, are small and shabby looking with few people about. Living off the land, as most do around here, isn’t easy. We reach the sea again and head north for a bit, stopping at the very sheltered bay / lagoon at Limani Gheraka, where we park next to Barry and Margaret ( who we’d met at Camping Finikes over Christmas. We catch up on each others travels and they give us a big bag of oranges, collected whilst at a campsite near Sparti, before they hit the road again; heading north. Nice oranges! Thanks. On their recommendation, we follow a signed walk from here up to an acropolis and back through the tiny, deserted village. It’s grey and drizzly, but the wild flowers are stunning and no doubt the view would be too – if we could see it!

We wake to a sunny and much calmer day, and head back south a bit, stopping at a long stretch of sandy beach (Paleas Monemvasia Bay) for the day whilst I investigate our ailing water system. There’s a valve that’s supposed to release the water from the boiler if it’s in danger of freezing, that keeps dripping – It’s cold, but not that cold! More importantly, the main water pump keeps coming off and dropping into the tank, meaning no water at all from the taps – luckily we carry a couple of 10 litre jerry cans too. There’s a water tap here, meaning I can release all the water, dry off the pump attachments and reconnect them. I then refill everything and re-pressurise and all seems well. At the same time I remove the temperature sensing valve and by-pass it. That’ll have to do until we can get a replacement. It seems a bit over the top anyway – if the water is likely to freeze, then so are we and we will have put the heating on long ago!

Monemvasia Bay Beach - always best to choose a scenic location whilst repairing your waterpump. lol

Monemvasia Bay Beach – always best to choose a scenic location whilst repairing your waterpump. That’s Heidi – the white spec in the centre.

It rains hard through the evening and then again for much of the next day. We drive into Monemvasia and park on the island (there’s a causeway). In no time, we hear running water and I discover Heidi is depositing our precious water all over the carpark – Oh Heidi! Back to the drawing board with the water system then. The water pump has come of the end of the pipe again and dropped into the tank. But why is the water pouring out on the ground?? We discover that the anti-freezing valve that I removed yesterday, is also a one way valve stopping the hot water from flowing back into the cold pipes and main tank. If the pump comes off, it let’s air into the system, de-pressurises everything, and the contents of the hot tank (20l) then drains back into the cold tank. And if the cold tank is already full, then that 20litres goes out the overflow pipe onto the ground! Ho hum. I try again to fix the pump in place. The problem is some little plastic part has cracked and snapped off. I modify it and add an extra jubilee clamp. So far (I’m writing this 3 weeks later) it has stayed in place.

The rain has eased by evening and we walk into the old Medieval town – wow! We follow the tiny twisting passages and stairways. Much restoration has been done and much is still going on. Apparently there are only 6 or 7 permanent residents here now and a lot of the old houses seem to have been turned into fancy hotel rooms and apartments, mostly owned by a single company. Shame. It has however all been done ‘properly’ in traditional styles using natural coloured pigments rather than paint. The castle / fortress up on top of the rock is closed for restoration and apparently has been for years. We visit again when the sun finally decides to show itself again in the morning. Some of the touristy shops are now open. The many cats are lazing in the sun outside the tavernas and donkeys! pass by laden with building rubble – there is no vehicle access.

More on Monemvasia here:

We explore the other way – the modern town on the mainland. It’s a busy ‘real’ place with lots of locals about as well as several coach-loads of visitors. What must it be like in season? We find a couple of good veg shops with much more of a selection available than we’ve seen of late. Then it’s lunch time; ‘gyros pita’ it is then. They’re only 2euro (so they must be small – right?), so we order two each. Mistake; they’re just excellent value. One would have done, and we feel overly stuffed for the rest of the day.

What, 2 'gyros pita' each! From what we've seen, it's a fairly common request - but too much for us!

What, 2 ‘gyros pita’ each! From what we’ve seen, it’s a fairly common request – but too much for us!

Later, we drive south and follow the road to it’s end at the tiny settlement of Aghios Fokas. It’s a wild and rugged coast along here with little development and several small beaches. There’s a footpath only from here heading south. The weather deteriorates again and soon it’s blowing a gale and raining hard. Heidi is rocking about and we fear our parking spot will turn into a muddy puddle. We move and find shelter in the nearby ‘congress centre’ carpark. It’s closed and appears to be used for only a few months in the summer – ideal, if not quite so picturesque as down by the coast. The weather continues to be appalling. We stay for three days and the rain rarely stops. Roast dinners, reading and video watching – and running the engine to charge the batteries! for an hour a day.


Finally the sun comes out again and we drive up and over the hills via Kalives, Lira, Eliniko and Pandanasa… The roads, as usual, are small and windy, and very narrow through the villages. There’s quite a few signposted walking routes in this area (more info. Monemvasia Hiking Trails / routes?) They tend to be long and often steep, following the pre-road routes from village to village. With our degree of fitness they are not that appealing and there’s little possibility of a circular route. We join the coast road to Neopolis and continue on, winding through the hills, through Aghios Nikolaos (a mistake to go through the centre – it’s very narrow with tight corners but we make it) and on to the tiny Aghia Marina Church. The last two kilometres are on a dirt road; reasonable most of the way, but deteriorating and narrow towards the end. So wish we had 4×4 and greater ground clearance to get to these out-of-the-way spots. The excuse for this intrepid adventure was that we were following signs to a ‘petrified forrest’. With little information, we set off in the wrong direction and spend a couple of hours wandering along this beautiful, wild stretch of coastline. After a bit of searching we find our own bits of petrified trees, and later the bit that we were supposed to be looking for. There’s not that much to see really. Not sure what we expected; interesting, but it certainly wasn’t a ‘forest’. It’s been a beautiful sunny day, feeling quite Spring-like for a change. We check out the tiny fishing village of Profitas Ilias and then return the way we’ve come and end up at Boza Beach just in time to watch the sun setting. It feels like we’ve done a lot of driving today, but we’ve only done 135km – you don’t get anywhere fast on these roads.

Boza Beach was a good spot. We stayed for four nights and could easily have stayed longer. At this time of year, during the week the place is deserted and being at the end of the road, a good way from town, it was very quiet and peaceful. We walk the tracks leading through the fields of olives and oranges, enjoy the view across to the snowy mountains above Gythio on the far side of the bay and get several buckets of washing done. However the taverna, that we had assumed closed, opens at the weekend and our empty carpark suddenly gets surprisingly busy. We join the locals for Sunday lunch. The place is packed out inside (it’s still really too cold for sitting out). We have lamb chops, a rarity on menus we’ve seen so far, salad and chips. All very good and good value. We eat too much as usual. Shame there’s no Stifado (a traditional Greek stew) or Mousaka. It seems these traditional dishes are invariably ‘off’ even though they’re on the menu. Maybe they’re not that popular or perhaps too much effort?

We’re somewhat reluctant to move, but there’s beginning to be a bit of a schedule – so much to see and do before we need to be back in the UK (mid June). We drive round the top of the bay towards Gythio, passing through a flat, orange growing area. As with anywhere flat and relatively easily accessible around here, it’s become commercialised by increasingly larger and larger companys. We pass the, perhaps not so temporary, homes of the immigrant labour force and their families, ranging from plastic covered shelters, to tatty caravans, to reasonable looking concrete houses. As usual, it is they that we see loading the oranges from the tractor trailers to the bigger trucks and the Greeks who stand around their pick-up trucks doing the deals and the paperwork. Rumour has it that these large-scale corporations, using cheap labour, are increasingly undercutting the small traditional farmers so much that it’s hardly worth their while picking their oranges anymore. We wonder who the ‘winners’ are in this situation.

We pass Selinitsa Beach (the one with the famous Dimitreos shipwreck) and stop for the obligatory photo. It’s been here since 1981 and, whether intentionally or not?, was allowed to wash up here after its temporary anchor failed in a storm. It had spent some time in Gythio harbour, rumoured to be unsafe and in financial difficulties with a history of smuggling. It’s also this beach that the ,almost extinct, Caretta-caretta sea-turtles come to lay their eggs in summer – shame we’re too early. We continue on to Gythio where we find an ideal parking spot, next to the Mani Museum, on the Kranai Islet (reached by a narrow! causeway). The Museum is unfortunately closed, reminding us yet again, of the short tourist season in Greece.

We stay ‘on our island’ for a total of 5 nights. Ok, so it’s not all ours, we share it with a couple of French ‘hippy type’ vans, complete with the usual dogs, baby, dreadlocks and juggling as a past-time. They’re friendly and wave and keep their dogs under better control than a lot of the locals. I really fancy the big Merc. Vario van with the horsebox type back on it – but would we need their ‘image’? Not sure it suits us!? Also staying there is Mike ( ) and his girlfriend Marti, who I’d come across online. I recognised the van and we went to say hello. He’s an interesting character, an electrical engineer, who like us realised there must be an alternative to the rat race. His van is self converted and he’s on a very limited budget – a reminder that anybody can live this life. He’s in the process of writing an e-book about van conversion, hoping that it will help fund his onward travels – Good luck Mike – and put me down for a copy when you’re done.

The weather is very mixed. We have rain most days. We wander around town. It seems pretty shabby and down at heel for the most part, but it’s a busy ‘real’ place with a good market that we use for a major stock up on Friday. We eat out again on Sunday, enjoying the local squid, and then sit outside for a coffee and discover we very much like the sound of the Bouzouki (live music from our closest taverna).

On Monday 23rd March, we drive south to ‘the Deep Mani’. It’s a wild and desolate place with numerous tower / fortress villages. The inhabitants of old were reputedly a wild bunch too, renowned for their fierce independence, resentment of any attempts to govern them and for bitter, spectacularly murderous internal feuds – hence all the towers. Their formidable reputation meant that would-be occupiers generally left them alone. Like the Pelion, the invading Turks never got this far. The isolated mountain strongholds are mostly uninhabited these days but some, especially those at lower levels, are being increasingly restored as holiday accommodation. There are few places for us to stop in this region and little access to the coast. Most of the few mountain roads are definitely not Heidi friendly. The rain doesn’t quite reach us but it’s dark and foreboding adding to the mystery and isolated feeling of the place.

Having found no particularly attractive alternative, we stop at ‘the end of the world’, as far south as you can drive in mainland (if the Peloponnese counts as mainland) Greece. We walk the final 2km, to the lighthouse at Cape Tainaron, across barren rocky hillsides, above crashing seas. It’s overcast but warm and there’s wild flowers everywhere. We are surprised to discover that here at 36.4 degrees of latitude we are further south than Tunis and Algiers. Back near where we are parked, there’s the remnants left by the various past inhabitants. The carpark is above a temple to Posiedon, or rather it’s location – all that remains now is the ruins of an old church that obviously used odd bits of the old temple in it’s construction. There’s also part of a mosaic floor, numerous water cisterns and channels carved out of the rock to catch the rain (there’s no natural springs around here), and lots of stone walling. In the morning we go looking for ‘The Gates of Hades’. Supposedly the cave down on the beach is ‘the entrance to the underworld’ – unlikely we think; it’s a very shallow cave even if you take into account that part of the roof has collapsed.

What started as a bright sunny morning, turns into a grey and blustery day as we head north up the west coast, passing the typical tower village of Vathia. The wind steadily increases, but we’ve decided on a walk, even if it feels difficult just to stand up at times! We head slightly inland from Gherolimenas, to Ano Boulari, where we leave Heidi, before setting out on foot for the steep climb up through the village and then on into the mountains towards the mountain villages of Pepon and Leontakis. It’s an ancient, paved mule track, typical of around here and until relatively recently the only way to get about. It’s overgrown and very uneven. Progress is slow, and as the dark clouds begin to descend, we decide that heading higher when we’re already being blown off our feet in the wild gusts is probably not a good idea. We’re down in the bottom of a gully as it is and the majority of the wind is coming from the other side of the peninsula – it gets everywhere here; something the Mani is famous for. Arriving back at Heidi, just before ‘Big Rain!’, we retreat back down to Gherolimenas and find some shelter in the small car / boat park there. It’s a wild, wet and windy night and I put jacks under the back corners to stop us rocking about so much.

We continue up the coast during the next several wet, windy days. I continue to try and stabilise the van when we’re parked up, using the bottle jacks, but at times the gusts are strong enough to collapse them! As we attempt to shelter under a cliff at Dhiros beach, we watch a Kesterel struggling to keep control and eventually land on a rock right in front of our window. There are various migratory birds too – ‘blown in’ with the storm. A Black Winged Stilt and an Egret just stand there and stumble about a bit; dazed after their trip from North Africa. I don’t suppose they had much choice in their first landing on this side!


We get to Stoupa on the 26th of March and find some shelter in carpark next to the church and the schools. We also did a quick tour of the town, narrowly avoiding getting stuck between parked cars, whilst trying to negotiate the one way system in reverse – not a recommended experience. We did wonder why all the parked cars were facing the other way. It continues to rain; lots! Our attempt at going out to find some advertised live music, results in us getting very wet and discovering the venue shut. Shame, Stoupa looks like a nice little place and is apparently very popular with the expats.

Finally we have a fine day, and we get the bikes out and try out the smooth concrete bike path (Wow! a real rarity) to Ag. Nikolaos and then follow the small coast road to it’s end at Trachila, an attractive little harbour village with many more of the largish, shuttered, stone built, Venetian style houses than you’d expect for the size of the place. They’re mostly in good shape and we assume they’re mainly holiday homes. It’s certainly very quiet at the moment. There’s also no fishing boats in the tiny harbour, though it was obviously once a thriving community. We return to Ag. Nikolaos, which is much busier. Everybody is cleaning, painting and repairing, ready for the season. We stop for lunch at a waterside table with our name on it; the swirling sea in the harbour only just not reaching our feet. We enjoy squid, salad and ‘black beans with spinach’ (finally some of the more traditional dishes are available). All very good, washed down with a couple of glasses of wine. Back at the van, in the afternoon, there’s a knock on the door: “Yasas (hello, hi, general universal greeting – also when you leave), You like?”. A local lady proceeds to present us with 6 huge eggs that she carefully takes from a carrier bag and places on our step. “Effaristo poli” (thankyou very much). Not many ‘food miles’ on them!

We’re in Stoupa four days before continuing towards Kalamata. We shop and get auto-gas and spend a couple of days on the beach near Analipsi. It’s warm, even hot at times and we swim and lie back lapping up the rays – is the weather finally settling down? It seems we’ve had more than our fair share of wind and rain again this month!

What better way to end?

What better way to end?


Adventures in Argolida

Been playing with the formatting again – you can scroll over the sets of photos to see captions and if you click on them you’ll be able to see them full size.

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The Argolis Peninsula / ‘Prefecture of Argolida’ – the Eastern-most finger (some call it the ‘thumb’) of the Peloponnese; just to the west of Athens.

We’ve spent over a month now, slowly exploring this area: argolida1 Weather

Is the sky supposed to be that colour?

Is the sky supposed to be that colour?

If you think we’re lounging around on beaches in the sunshine, you’d be very wrong! We’re finding Greece, in winter, to be predominantly cold and wet. This last month, we’ve had temperatures down to –1 or –2 degrees C at night and plenty of grey days with temperatures struggling to get above 10 degrees. We had one day when 3 was the max. We’ve even had flurries of snow! Although it’s not settling at lower levels, there’s plenty on the mountains – pretty to look at, but making many of the mountain passes decidedly dicey in a front wheel drive van with rather too much weight on her rear end! When the sun does shine at these latitudes, we realise why we are down here. The temperature rapidly climbs to the mid teens and it feels a lot hotter in a sheltered spot. The change always comes as a bit of a shock. We definitely had the best of the weather whilst Clare was visiting; we even managed a swim once (it was flippin’ freezing!), and sat outside enjoying the sunshine on several occasions – I don’t think we’ve done that more than once in the past 3 weeks. Humph.

Stormy day at Nafplio harbour. Fences blown over. Difficult to stand!

Stormy day at Nafplio harbour. Fences blown over. Difficult to stand!

Greece in winter!

Greece in winter!

The view today!

The view today!

The Natural Beauty – beaches, volcanoes, caves

Beaches and Coastline:

There’s miles and miles of beautiful and varied coastline here. A lot of it is rather inaccessible, covered in sparse scrub and pine forest with steep slopes dropping straight into the sea, limited roads and very few paths. There are fewer beaches than you might expect and several of them, especially in the south, have been fenced off as part of private, gated, hotels and resorts – humph! Why is this ‘allowed’? – or perhaps it’s not, we’ve come across several abandoned examples in this small area. Some, perhaps all, we’ve discovered have been illegally constructed in designated ‘natural beauty’ areas. Rumours are that much of the construction is dodgy and concrete rot is also common. Perhaps they are just out-dated and not what people want these days? There doesn’t seem to be any let up with individual ‘villa’ developments.

The area around Portocheli and Kosta, opposite the island of Spetzes in the far south, is particularly rife with this. We have a map with ‘natural beauty areas’ marked on it – worth a visit you’d think? Some of these have been completely destroyed with a quite ridiculous amount of over-development. The natural beauty has been replaced with miles of high stone walls, or fences topped with razor wire! watched over by private security firms. It seems the only reason this area is popular now is because ‘it’s the place to be’, all traces of ‘natural’ beauty are fast being bulldozed and more and more ‘perfect plots’ are being marked out. The roads, as usual, are often still deeply rutted dirt tracks, at ridiculous gradients, with no thought of drainage to stop them washing away, but I suppose if you arrive by boat to your private harbour, or by helicopter, you’re not too bothered about the roads!

…But the sea is beautiful and stunningly clear, even in the harbours, and often turquoise in the changing light. With a bit of searching, we have, found some wonderful beaches. Now if the weather would just behave! loitering and swimming would seem a lot more appealing.

Volcanoes and Hot Springs:

We spent a couple of days on the Methana Peninsula. Methana itself is, or should we say was? a popular spa resort. It seemed a bit run down to us. I don’t think ‘taking the waters’ is so popular these days? The main springs are beneath / behind an impressive classical building, fronted by a lake / pond where the mineral waters are released. It’s shockingly turquoise due to all the minerals reflecting the light, but it doesn’t half ‘niff’. From here the waters are released inter the adjacent marina and to a small public ‘beach’, making the water warm and the smell much more acceptable. With Peter’s aching joints, it seemed like a good idea, but the local fishermen had commandeered the only easy access point – I’m surprised the fish like it. On an unexpectedly warm, sunny day we drove the complete circuit of the Methana Peninsula, which is dotted with volcanoes, some of them still fairly active, hence the hot springs I presume. Most of the roads are narrow (single track), steep and windy. Good job it was quiet, there are very few passing places if we meet anything our size coming the other way. There’s beautiful views all around, and the trees (almonds we think) are just beginning to blossom. We passed through the few houses that make up Kalmeni Chora, narrowly avoiding the only other traffic on the road – a donkey carrying baskets of oranges, and stop by a footpath signposted ‘to the volcano’. It’s a dramatic, chaotic landscape of red crumbly rocks tumbling everywhere, and the views out to other islands, and to Athens in the distance, are spectacular. We climbed right up to the ‘mouth’ – more a deep fissure in the rocks than the ‘traditional crater’. This one hasn’t been active that recently. We’d read of one closer to Methana that made the surrounding rocks hot to the touch but unfortunately never got around to looking for it before leaving the area to escape the forecasted wintry gales. We continued on up into the mountains through a barren, uncultivated landscape, save for a few pockets of olives in sheltered valleys, and down again to the coast. We stopped at Aghias Georgios, a tiny, almost deserted, fishing harbour for the afternoon, before making our way back to Methana harbour for the night.


On the 20th February we visited the prehistoric cave of Franchthi, opposite the small fishing village of Kilada. There have been archaeological ‘findings’ here going back to ‘Palaeolithic’ times (30 – 40,000BC –old!). We’re presented with lots of interesting information on the signs – they reckon that sea level here may have been as much as 120m lower when the cave was first inhabited, making the shoreline 7km away, instead of right next to it as it is today. Many of the finds were hence now underwater, but because the cave was so dry and protected, various animal shelters and pens have remained. We also went to the Didyma ‘caves’ which are in fact big, crater-like, holes, of which there are a number in the area. The roofs collapsed thousands of years ago. One of the caves contains two tiny churches. It’s a truly magical (or should that be spiritual?) place. One story we heard was that the craters were created by meteorites, and the churches were built to remind God to keep the stars in the sky!

Ancient sites

There’s so much ‘old stuff’ around here, it’s easy to get overload. Some highlights:

Epidauros / The Sanctuary of Asklepios:

To confuse things, there are 3 Epidauros’ around here. There’s Ancient Epidaurus on the coast, which has various rather unidentifiable archeological remains and has it’s own ‘small theatre’ – impressive in it’s own right, but less so when you’ve seen the ‘Big’ one at Asklipio Epidaurus, which is up in the hills near Ligourio. There’s also Nea Epidaurus, again on the coast and north of Ancient Epidaurus. We visited the ‘Big’ one on 25th January on a dull, chilly day, which in many ways makes it even more dramatic as for most of the time we are the only people on site. Having seen the size of the carpark (big enough for thousands!) we could imagine what it would be like later in the year. It’s a huge place, and the theatre is only a part. It’s one of the best preserved Classical Greek structures existing and the acoustics, as with all these old theatres, are astounding. There are seats for up to 14,000! People. It’s still used for performances in the summer months.

The extensive remains of the Sanctuary of Asklepios were founded in the 6th Centuary BC and was “the most famous centre of healing in the ancient world”. Everything extends over a vast area and is rather overpowering. A few more helpful signs telling us exactly what we were looking at would have been helpful. There’s not much of the hospice / infirmary left, but it’s foundation stones disappear off as far as the eye can see! Then there’s a huge athletics stadium built-in a natural hollow with some of the carved stone seating remaining – big enough for thousands. Both the games in the stadium and the theatrical performances were dedicated to the god Asklepios, one of Apolo’s many sons, as part of his worship. The healings that took place here were considered to be down to his powers in the main. Patients, having received some ‘instruction’ on his powers, were told to sleep and dream of how they would be cured of whatever ailment they had, and then that is what was carried out. There are temples to various other deities, sacrificial and dining halls, what amounts to hotels / boarding houses for visitors, wells, bath houses… It goes on and on! Libraries and a Christian Basilica were added later. Much of it has either been destroyed by earthquakes or ransacked for the building materials for later Christian Basilicas, Islamic Mosques and Venetian fortresses built-in the surrounding areas. Excavation work continues and a program to reconstruct certain parts is underway. What little has been done so far only goes to emphasise the gigantic scale of everything. I was impressed by the extensive scaffolding and lifting gear in place to slowly achieve this – which only serves to emphasise what an incredible feat of engineering was required to build it in the first place without such modern kit! There are also plans, after some more work, to begin to use the athletics stadium again.


We visited Argos, primarily for the market (Wednesday and Saturday mornings), but there’s ‘old stuff’ there too, so we thought we’d better have a look. The site is a bit run down and overgrown, which is a shame, but it is free. There’s very little left of the Roman Agora (market place) and the surrounding buildings. Part of the old drainage system was exposed and I dare say it worked better than current Greek drainage! – which is virtually non-existent (we’ve been many places where heavy rain floods the roads, several inches deep, within a few minutes). Opposite is the theatre, not as impressive as many others around this area, until you realise that it is carved out of the hillside in one piece! and not made from individually placed blocks of stone – perfect curves and symmetry, and acoustics as usual. There’s the remains of a Roman ‘Therma’ (thermal bath house) here too and pictures! of all the impressive statues the archaeologists found there – now in a museum somewhere else. Why can’t they put them, in a glass case say, here!? This seems to be common practice though.


Yet another major archaeological site. This one much, much older. A lot of what’s there dates from a period between the 16th and 12th Centuries BC and there’s evidence of human habitation here going as far back as the 3rd millennium BC – that’s OLD! We visited on a rare sunny day and were able to enjoy the far-reaching views from this hilltop vantage point too. Much of the site, as usual, is just a series of the remains of stone walls, but there are some astounding bits still intact. One way that the remains here differ from those of other periods is the sheer size of the stones used for the walling. They’re massive! Just how was it possible to manoeuvre them into place? One explanation is that they were placed by that infamous one-eyed giant; Cyclopes. As usual again, all the really impressive finds are in the adjacent museum, and there’s a lot of them! This is perhaps the most impressive feature of this place. There are literally hundreds of pots and vases and statuettes, along with coins, parts of tablets containing the earliest examples of ancient scripts and other artefacts. Much of the pottery is either whole or has been reconstructed to look as if it is. And there’s so much of it! And it’s over 3500 years old!

A selection of towns


We found Ermioni to be one of the most interesting places to spend any time in, down in the south, especially in the winter. So many places are rather depressingly deserted out of season. We visited on a couple of occasions. The first time was market day (Thursday mornings). We bought fresh fish, which is also sold daily, direct from the boats, or from shops in town. We chose bass, one of the few we recognised. They seemed very small, as did several of the other varieties. One stall was selling Red Snappers, which as far as I’m aware are usually big enough for a single fish to make a big portion? that were tiny – you’d want a handful for one portion! We’ve heard that over-fishing is becoming a problem in some places. They won’t help things by catching them that small! Still, they seem plentiful enough around here, we’ve watched the small boats go out for no more than a couple of hours and come back with a box full. There was also loads of fresh veg. There’s not much variety, and everyone is offering the same thing, but you can be sure it’s fresh and local – and we’ve discovered the market stuff lasts a lot longer than the supermarket stuff. There was honey too. Different colours and tastes depending on where the bees have been collecting from. It’s nearly always in litre jars, or bigger. The Greeks love their honey and that too has never travelled very far. We bought ‘Erika’ (heather) honey which is darker and stronger tasting than some – Yum! We went back again and spent a few days there. There’s a few good bakers. There’s more bars and restaurants open than a lot of solely holiday places. There’s an attractive short walk around the wooded point with plenty of benches overlooking the blue, blue sea. There’s ‘old stuff’ out on the point too, but it’s just the foundation stones and it’s all overgrown – see, ‘old-stuff’ overload. The attractive old town makes a fascinating stroll too, perched on top of the hill with the sea in both directions, it’s got impossibly steep ‘streets’, many of them effectively staircases. It still constantly amazes us where the Greeks can get a car – definitely not motorhome friendly! You can catch ferries out to the islands of Hydra and Spetzes, and beyond, from here too. Hydra sounds fascinating; there are no vehicles and transport is predominantly on foot or by donkey. Unfortunately that means staying in one of the expensive hotels if you want to spend any time there – maybe when the weather improves?


On the 22nd January, we stayed at Ghalatas, and in the morning took one of the small taxi/ferries across the narrow strip of water to the island of Poros – our first Greek island (well this trip anyway). It’s a very attractive little place, mainly due to it’s setting, and is a popular yachting destination. Even at this time of year, there were plenty of boats around and at least one flotilla company has a fleet here. The front is lined with bars and restaurants, many closed for the season, but several open and busy even mid-week in winter. It’s no doubt buzzing in season. We enjoyed a morning wandering the traditional, ridiculously steep and narrow back streets before catching another taxi-boat back.

Ancient Epidaurus:

We spent 5 nights, in total, staying at Ancient Epidaurus, a quiet (well at least at this time of year) little harbour town. There were just enough locals about to give it some life. We did several long walks from here. Unusually, there’s a marked trail leading out around the wooded rocky promontory, to the lighthouse, and into the next bay. We sat and watched a fishing boat setting his nets in a big arc around the edge of the bay, and then retrieving them – not sure he caught anything? Unfortunately where the path went from there was less than clear. We ended up scrambling up to a goatherd’s place and cutting back across a steep slope, until we found a track leading in the right direction to take us back to the village. On a subsequent day, following the old coast road (a track really only suitable for a 4×4), we discovered an isolated Byzantine church, which was once surrounded by the remains of a monastery. The church, probably down to it’s location, is still in good condition. These are the delights of walking in Greece; you never know what you might find, or, whether a path actually goes anywhere or just peters out and becomes a goat track leading nowhere. Like many places here, Ancient Epidaurus is surrounded by orange and lemon groves, and no more than a short walk is required to procure a few – there are plenty of branches, laden with fruit, hanging enticing over a nearby path J. You can by 10kilos of oranges around here for 3euros – but what are we going to do with that many! An awful lot seem to go to waste, rotting on the ground.


We’ve mentioned our visit to Nafplio in a previous post (Criss-crossing the Canal) so we’ll try not to repeat what we wrote there. It’s the region’s capital; the only major commercial port in the area; a large modern town, sitting alongside the ancient one. We’ve returned several times. Elaine’s sister Clare, arrived and departed from here for a weeks holiday with us (via a bus from the airport at Athens). It’s a very popular place for a day out at the weekends and the bars and restaurants are lively. There’s a big market here too (Wednesday and Saturday). We’ve been doing our bit to support the local economy and doing as much of our shopping as we can in the markets. There’s also endless free parking next to the harbour here. Supposedly this is where a lot of the agricultural produce of this region is exported from, but the only boats we’ve seen are bringing huge wind turbine parts in from Holland and Germany. They’re all lined up here, awaiting their journey to a nearby ridgeline – there’s quite a few already, and many more, what we can only assume are, prepared clearings and tracks to get them there.