MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR JANUARY 1998

GREECE

Barry and Margaret Williamson

What follows are extracts from a diary we kept during our travels in mainland Europe by motorhome, bicycle and sometimes motorbike in the years since we early-retired in 1995

1 JANUARY 1998  GR  CAMPING TRITON, DREPANO

A fine day for the 150-mile circuit of the Argolid which Alf had avoided 2 days ago. He was still reluctant, running out of petrol neatly on the forecourt of a station which opened very late after last night's New Year celebrations. By 11 am we got him on the main road to Epidavros, where we paused for coffee. Turning south and then over a high pass across to the east coast of the peninsula, we followed a high corniche road which descended the cliff face to the Saronic shoreline. Reaching Galatas, a little port with ferries hopping across to the island of Poros, we found nowhere open for lunch. Poros looked attractive across the narrow strait, white houses clustered behind the tiny harbour, but we pressed on along the empty and undeveloped south coast, until recently only accessible by boat, to Ermioni (the port for Leonard Cohen's island of Idra), where an Italian restaurant offered an excellent salad and pizza (sold by length - we shared the ½-metre size!) Our next stop was Portoheli, the port for the nearby island of Spetses, and a seaside resort with yacht marina and seasonal hydrofoils to Tolo and Pireus. Today we had it all to ourselves and hardly saw another car as we turned towards home, past the vast crater in the mountainside near Didima, formed by a meteorite which narrowly missed the village last century. Darkness and mist set in as we crossed the high hills at the end of the tour - a promising start to the New Year - KA I XPONIA.

Another good day's ride on Alf, first to Nafplio where we photocopied Patrick's Dutch list of LPG suppliers in Greece and got a 'Hellenic Times', then south down the Arcadian coast, aiming to check a quiet campsite behind a taverna which Patrick had seen open in November. A beautiful road with a seascape across to the Argolid peninsula and Spetses and no traffic. We found what we took to be the place, well over half way to Leonidio, but it was closed and we were hungry so we turned back and stopped at Paralia Astros, a small fishing harbour and resort where we'd free-camped 2 years ago. We found a busy little restaurant with steaming pans to choose from and had an excellent chicken and potato casserole. Then back to Triton in time for Margaret to cycle to the dentist for her 3rd visit at 5.30 pm. Again he changed the dressing and refilled it, saying come again next Wednesday. How long is this going to take?

A day of rest and recuperation, reading, writing, cleaning and minor repairs and using the 'free' gas rings in the campsite kitchen to cook the rest of Mycenae granny's beetroots and a steamed apple and hazelnut suet pudding. This did not make good economic sense, however, as an unwatched saucepan boiled dry and has to be replaced!

In which we cycle to Assini, Tolo and Agia Triada

More relaxation followed by an afternoon ride. We walked the bikes along the beach, a short cut to Assini, then rode on to Tolo and inland on quiet lanes to Agia Triada ('Holy Trinity'), where the Byzantine church was locked. We returned by dusk via New Tiryns and Agia Adrianos, a wonderful 30 miles through the orange groves on the ancient plain. The weather is still dry and sunny and has been for 2 weeks. The orange harvest is well under way, with camps of itinerant fruit pickers in the orchards and on the beach.

A beautiful day for a long circular cycle ride, east along the now familar coast through Drepano and Vivari and over the hill to Kandia then pioneering inland to find a route climbing steeply through the hills, emerging high on the main road beyond Epidavros, near the village of Adami. The road wasn't signposted (nor even asphalted in parts) and was only shown on the map in the Argolid tourist brochure (not the most reliable source), so we were pleased to get through. We found a coffee in Adami, which went down well with sausage rolls, cheese pasties and buns from the baker's opposite - a real feast. The old woman at the cafe also sold us a calendar with views of the village and its inhabitants (numbering 17 adults, 4 children and 2 donkeys).

Re-energised, we returned home the long way round, over the pass to Irea, a route becoming familiar from previous cycle and motorbike rides but no less exhilerating, past many marble quarries and the little church we'd ridden to on Christmas morning, on whose bench we always pause before the last long drop to the distant Gulf of Argos.

Urged out by Patrick Phelen from the Sunsport improbably pushing his mountain bike, we watched a simple wave blessing service outside the campsite, when the village people walked down from the church mass to Drepano beach and the priest threw in a cross which was quickly found by 3 young lads. While waiting for the ceremony we talked to a delightful eccentric Austrian woman who came twice daily to feed the family of mother and 9 puppies living in boxes outside an empty beach-bar. They are 10 weeks old, very friendly, and so far 2 have found homes (one with Alan and Christine, the English residents on Triton II).

We then used Alf to reach Nafplion in time for the much more impressive Epiphany celebrations at the port, complete with military band and golden banners, bishop and priests, icons and incense, ships sounding their hooters as the cross emerged from the deep, huge crowds, balloon sellers, a holiday atmosphere. (It is a public holiday, the last until the start of Lent.) One of several explanations for the ritual is that 6th January was the eve of Christ's baptism by St John in the River Jordan and all the rivers became calm in readiness. In every parish in Greece a cross is thrown into the nearest body of water (sea, river, lake or reservoir) and the one who retrieves it is given money and gifts and considered blessed for the coming year.

On a dry and sunny morning, we continued west along the coast to Myli, turned towards Argos then off up a hill to the village of Kefalari. Here a sacred spring emerges from the rocks below a series of small caves, full of religious pictures and icons, with a small church built into the rock. The stream had been made into an ornamental pool with fountains, surrounded by restaurants and picnic places which were busy today. The caves had certainly been a pre-christian sacred site. A few miles further up the hill was another mysterious ancient structure, the pyramid of Elliniko, or at least its base made of polygonal boulders, with a good view of the coastline below.

In Argos we found an excellent bargain lunch at a barbecued chicken take-away. We had half a chicken with fried potatoes and a delicious lemon sauce, perched on stools by the counter eating with our fingers, and all for 1500 dr (just over £3).

Finally we returned to the site of ancient Midea, near Tiryns, which we'd passed while cycling to Dendra. Now Alf took us to the end of the track from where we climbed up and around the walls of the Mycenaean city, legendary home of Hercules' mother before she married the king of Tiryns. It had wonderful views all around the Argolid Plain and signs of recent continuing excavation.

M made her 4th visit to the dentist at 10.30 am for the usual therapy and instructions to return next Monday.We decided to move on and said goodbye to the Phelans and the New Zealanders, who gave us some useful advice on touring in the United States, based on their 2 6-month visits. The Brian families were out on a fishing trip and the other Christmas revellers had already left for colder climes.

We made lunch on Nafplio harbour and shopped at the Marinopoulos hypermarket past Argos, then took the motorway to Tripoli. There were no services or other obvious places for easy free overnighting, so we continued on the dark twisting road to Sparta and spent the night on the coach park opposite the Dionysos Restaurant at Magoula. This is only a mile from the campsite near Mystra but there was little point in checking in so late and we were only disturbed by a babbling brook and early morning birdsong.

84 miles. Free night.

Peter Kapetaneas was pleased to see us again and we have the campsite and the oranges to ourselves. We settled in the back field among the rows of olive and walnut trees and after an early lunch were heading for the Taigetos on our bicycles, lured out by the sunshine glinting on the snowy peaks.

We really enjoyed the 10 mile 1,500 ft hairpinned climb, high above the quarry to the village of Anavrita, and our lemon squash and biscuits sitting by the church. We felt fit enough to return the hard way, down the E4 footpath past a monastery, dropping steeply to the church by the stream in the bottom of the gorge, where we lit the usual wayfarers' candles before climbing equally steeply up the other side of the gorge, and then a long freewheel to emerge near Mystra. A lovely ride with the world to ourselves - not even any walkers out on such a beautiful day.

1 mile. £6.66 inc elec.

Margaret used the site washing machine, met Peter's mother, picked oranges and worked on this diary (more than somewhat neglected over the period at Drepano).

Barry worked on cleaning and maintenance of Rosie, Alf and the bicycles (why don't they have names?)

Another clear sunny day for a 30 mile ride, the steepest way out of Sparta up the back road towards Megalopoli - part of the route we took in our 9 day cycle tour of the Peloponnese last February. Leaving the orange groves we climbed up through olive and pine woods, through working villages devoid of tourist trappings. In Kastoria, after 10 hard miles, we found a coffee at the bus stop cafe and cheese pasties at the baker's before the final 5 mile climb to Georgitsi, then the reward - downhill all the way home! First signs of spring already, with narcissi and blue irises on the verges and some baby lambs and kids about, and it's wonderful to feel our cycle-fitness returning.

Leaving Rosie at Camping Mistras we packed our overnight box and set out on Alf on a fine morning, bound for Drepano, where Margaret had her 5th appointment with the dentist. We decided on the longest (115 miles) but most scenic route (over the mountains at Kosmas and along the Arkadian coast road). Near Geraki we noticed that Alf's rear carrier was coming loose, attached at only 2 of the 4 points (perhaps we've been exceeding the 5 kg limit suggested on it!) The problem was a mixture of broken welds and sheared bolts and Barry secured it temporarily with elastic cords and a leather strap. We continued, climbing into a fine but dense and soaking mist/low cloud as the road rose high above the Lakonian Plain reaching 4500' at Kosmas, the tiny village eerily invisible in the fog. Keen to see where we were going, we didn't linger but dropped down the wild deserted mountain road, emerging from the mist shortly before the Elona Monastery, clinging to the crags overlooking the narrow gorge. We were relieved to reach the long narrow village of Leonidio on the coast and to find a cafe offering coffe, toast and cakes where we could dry our clothes and thaw our toes. We left the Mount Parnon range still shrouded in black cloud and rode along the Arcadian coast to Nafplio, totalling 108 difficult miles.

We persuaded the Hotel Akropol to put the heating on and give us an en-suite room for 5000 dr (£11), though they didn't run to a hot drink. How we miss Rosie's home comforts when we leave her for a night. Once warmed and rested we walked round the old town and had an excellent supper of Giro Pitta and Chips near the bus station (that's one New Year's Resolution that didn't last!)

Breakfast in a waterfront bar - fresh orange juice, toast with jam and honey, coffee - was excellent but expensive. On to Drepano for the dentist at 10 am. He did a check-up, scale and polish. The good news was that there were no other problems, the bad news that tooth no 46 was still not clear of infection. He didn't advise antibiotics and had no idea how long it would take until it could be capped, so Margaret paid him for the work to date, took her X-rays and said goodbye, in need of a second opinion and unwilling to spend another 2 days getting to and from the next appointment. The weather was bright and the mountain tops looked clear so we decided to return the way we came and enjoy the scenery rather than taking the shorter route via Argos and the motorway. Stopping in Paralia Astros to enjoy another chicken dinner at the humble restaurant we'd visited on 2nd January, we emerged to find the motor-caravans belonging to the 2 Brians parked in the street. After a brief conversation, in which we learnt they were free-camping nearby, we were on our way, on the magnificent route back to Kosmas, clearly visible today. We had a welcome coffee by a wood-burning stove in the single cafe there, then 35 miles downhill to Sparta and home.

We left Alf's carrier to be welded at a blacksmith's in Sparta (an excellent job done), did some shopping, made an appointment with the dentist here who originally treated the problem tooth, and rang mum. She sounded well, despite more trouble with her double glazing in the storms, and promised us some new videos for old. The welding cost £4, looked good and the carrier went back together much improved with new bolts and a smart coat of black paint.

After a morning enjoying the peace and space of the campsite, shared only with some orange pickers (Greek, Albanian or What?) who are staying in the outbuildings and leave us alone, we cycled up past Mystra's top gate to find the short cut to Tripi.

The ruins of Mystra, medieval capital of Morea, the 'Florence of the Orient', with its Byzantine churches and monasteries tumbling down a steep foothill of Mt Taigetos below the castle and ruined palaces and houses at the top of the spur, overlooking Sparta, are exceptional, even by the standards of this splendid region.

We found the lane which climbed yet higher before joining the Kalamata pass road at Tripi, then returned down the main road to Magoula. The 'short cut' saved only 2 miles (5 out and 7 back) with extra climbing but spectacular views of Mystra.

Yet another dry windless day, ideal for cycling the last of the 3 classic climbs from Sparta, having already repeated Anavrita and Georgitsi in our 'get fit quick' campaign. We rode through Magoula to Tripi, the last village in Lakonia, from where the road climbs for 15 miles unrelentingly up hairpins, through 2 short tunnels, across the border into Messenia, past a tiny church where we rested briefly (but could find no candle to light), round more hairpins, to a restaurant/guesthouse which was (miraculously) open. The weather was damp and misty at this height and we dried out by a log fire with coffee and Swiss cheese on toast, watching ski-ing from Austria on the TV, all very Alpine. From there it was only another couple of miles, past the deserted stall where we'd bought cherries last summer, to the top of the pass, where the hotel was closed. The ride home, 15 miles barely touching the pedals, down through the wild impressive gorge, was pure joy.

Back at the campsite we found the Phelan's Sunsport American Motorhome parked on the drive, but they are only here for a night, on their way to Gythion tomorrow.

After a talk with a motorhome couple, trying to persuade them to explore the Mani,

We cycled into Sparta for a supermarket and bank and to photocopy the December diary, finished at last! The afternoon was spent on dhobi and assorted jobs.

Margaret saw ÔEÛPÔIOõ IXOÔIOõ, or George, the American-trained dentist, at 8 pm (finishing at 9.20 pm and she wasn't his last patient!) He studied the X-rays from Drepano and investigated the problem, saying that 2 of the roots are now clean but the 3rd is still infected. He tried hard with all his instruments and supersonic drills to clean this root canal to the tip but couldn't get through because of its curved shape. He reluctantly explained that the abscess would recur if we simply suppressed it with antibiotics and recapped the tooth without clearing the canal, and the best thing was to have it extracted. This will save any further problems, and the cost of a new crown, and we only wish the Dutch dentist in Drepano had admitted defeat and done it earlier. M is to return on Monday morning for this final solution.

We browsed and shopped in Sparta's wonderful weekly market - nothing but local produce, honey, eggs, live chicks, herbs and so on. For 40p we got a big cabbage and a cauliflower, for 20p a kilo of apples, and the oranges grow freely all around, even along the main streets of the town. We are enjoying fresh juice each morning again and have made more fruit squash.

After lunch we rode to the top of the Kalamata pass again, more quickly this time on Alf (45 minutes compared with 2 hrs 45 mins of cycling). The mist had gone, the fir and plane trees stark against the blue sky. After dropping down for a mile on the Kalamata side, we turned off north along forest paths which soon became muddy tracks, in search of the route over the 5,500 ft watershed we'd once taken from Georgitsi, but without signposts at the junctions and with no map of these tracks it was not to be found. We did reach the spooky deserted village of Neohori at the end of its particular path and eventually dropped a long way down onto a good road at Dirrahi. Consulting the map over a flask of coffee we calculated that this road would only take us to Megalopoli in one direction or beyond Kalamata in the other, so we retraced most of our route, veering off along yet more of the seemingly endless labyrinth of woodland paths, still in search of Georgitsi as light and petrol faded. By now we were each wearing 2 pairs of socks, 3 trousers, 3 warm top layers and 2 waterproof jackets, 2 pairs of gloves, crash-helmet and thermal balaclava. It's cold up in those mountains, just under the snow line. Using the compass and Barry's instincts we finally joined the main road still on the Kalamata side of the pass, a little higher than the point we'd left it. We reached home again as darkness fell, soon after 6 pm. Rosie's warmth and comfort, hot showers and defrosted squidgy chocolate log, were just what we needed after an adventurous 70 miles.

Surprised to wake to the sound of rain on the roof - the first since Camping Mycenae a month ago. These have been the legendary Halcyon Days, a period of good weather (no rain and no wind) for at least a fortnight around Christmas in Greece. The origin is that the Halcyon (kingfisher) laid its eggs on a floating nest on the day of the Solstice and the weather became calm until they were hatched. There is still no wind but the rain set in for the day, which was spent reading and writing. (The diary is at last right up to date.) We also sorted some well viewed videos to return to mum, re-watched 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall', cooked and mended (the electric blanket and toilet door handle again), and generally tried to take M's mind off the dentist tomorrow.

We were at the dentist at 10.10 am as appointed and Margaret's problem tooth was finally removed, under local anaesthetic, in 2 pieces. It wasn't painful, though not her favourite way to spend the morning. Barry waited patiently, reading a new 'Hellenic Times' (you can tell it's new by the date on the front).

Equipped with Niflamol painkillers and Augmentin penicillin, M spent the rest of this warm and sunny day reading, and writing a letter to mum to post with the December diary and 6 videos.

It seems the Halcyon Days are over as rain set in all over the Peloponnese. We ventured as far as the post office to send mum's package and a request for a book called 'Greek Salad' which we'd seen reviewed in MMM.

After lunch Barry did some motor-home improvements by removing the bathroom door and fitting the bedroom curtain across instead. This solves the problem of finding a new handle for the door, which keeps coming adrift and can't be replaced in Greece, and makes it much lighter and airier at the back. He also repaired the kitchen mixer tap, which has started to leak, whilst contending with mains power surges and cuts caused by the rain - a common phenomenon on Greek campsites! Margaret, still recovering from yesterday's trauma, watched with interest and passed the tools (and made a lemon bakewell tart with some home-made lemon curd).

A very strange episode of 'Chicago Hope' had us wondering if it was the end of the series, with half the staff leaving in various ways. Perhaps we'll find out next week. Or perhaps not.

Still very wet, with views of fresh snow on the peaks when the clouds part. We became alarmed that the field was starting to flood and electricity was now only available (weakly) at the end of a very long multiple-joined lead, the joins lying in puddles, as the nearby sockets were dead. So we moved over to park on the tarmac path by the laundry and nearer the remaining power source before settling down to breakfast. Then there were more jobs to do, fixing a leak above the emergency exit window, cleaning up and making 7 lb of orange/lemon marmalade with fruit we can literally pick through the windows.

The Sunsport reappeared in the afternoon and the Phelans came in for coffee in the evening. They had been on the campsites we'd recommended at Gythion Bay and Glykovrissi, with a night on Monemvassia harbour (Camping Paradise being closed). They enthused about Glykovrissi, where they enjoyed beach-combing and even cycled 2 miles into the village. They had seen the 2 Brians free-camping by the sand dunes within sight of the camp, which had not gone down well with the Swiss/Dutch owners, and we all agreed it was pretty indiscreet.

On a showery morning we packed up and had a farewell coffee with the Phelans in their Sunsport. They were finding its 32' length very restrictive and, because of their own lack of mobility, they were not really able to explore. At 59, Patrick can't walk far because of knee problems, and at 53 his wife Felicity is too nervous to cycle in traffic or contemplate riding pillion on a bike or scooter. She had been a district nurse and retired last autumn, clearly just in time to avoid a complete breakdown, suffering from stress/nervous exhaustion. They thought Rosie's size and layout much better for long-term travelling and were thinking of changing. All they gained for their extra 5' length was a lot of wasted space at the front. We left feeling sorry for them, wanting to do so much but able to do so little, despite their affluence.

Pausing en route to shop and make lunch at the supermarket just outside Sparta, we reached Gythion mid-afternoon and parked near the harbour. We used Alf to check a possible free-camping place along the beach south of the town but it was flooded with all the recent rains and we finally parked for the night on the sea-front north of the town centre, past the ancient theatre. A walk back into town just after dark showed all the lights reflected in the water and we noticed the Golden Ferries 'Maria' at anchor (presumably fixed since we sailed from Crete last June!)

32 miles. Free night.

We walked back into Gythion to shop at the weekly street market, buy some more plumber's tape for kitchen tap repair and enquire about the 'Maria'. As we'd suspected she's now sailing only to Kythera, thrice weekly, and will go to Crete "perhaps after 2 months" - the usual state of affairs.

We drove on along the coast, inland to Skala and through the maze of flat sandy orchards to Camping Lykourgos. We'd passed it once before and had recommended it to Patrick, but never actually stayed. Run by a Swiss/Dutch couple, with lots of space, good facilities, a few over-wintering German outfits and a pitch right by the beach among the pine and eucalyptus trees with the sound of the sea, recently vacated by the Sunsport! We washed the road-dirt off Rosie and Alf and settled in.

20 miles. £6.40 inc elec.

Undeterred by light showers we cycled south down the coast to the tiny fishing harbour at Elaea then through rolling hills, olive and citrus orchards, with little agricultural villages at Assopos and Papadianika to another small port at Plitra. The cafes were all deserted ('like a holiday town in the rain' as Chris de Burgh's song goes) and we turned back, this being the end of the road. Delayed by a puncture in M's rear tyre, eventually we were sitting outside a bar in Assopos enjoying one of the sunny intervals, cheese and ham toasts and coffee.

We arrived back and did the dhobi just before rain set in for the rest of the day.

A 110-mile circular trip, leaving in warm sunshine with no wind. We rode through empty rocky heather-clad hills, olives and goats the only possible agriculture in this sparsely populated corner of Lakonia. There were tiny villages like Niata, where a deflating Santa Claus still clung to a lamp post in the square and the signposts (to Geraki or Monemvassia) were home-made and none too precise. Kremasti was clearly the end of the road, though our map showed a yellow (hard-top) road continuing to Pelata and Leonidio. Directed by a village elder, we turned back for a mile and turned off along a stony unshod track, which did indeed reach Pelata and a better road after 10 bumpy miles. The route to Leonidio continued, twisting sharply down steep cliffs to reach the sea at Poulithra. Following the coast to Leonidio, we stopped for petrol and a meal at the little harbour of Plaka. We ordered chicken stew, salad and chips, though rather think the 'chicken' had 4 legs! Whatever, it was very welcome before the 4,500 ft ascent to Kosmas.

The weather had remained bright and cold, but clouds were beginning to settle on the peaks and we were in mist for the last couple of miles. We warmed ourselves by the stove with coffee and cakes in the cheerful cafe, the only sign of life in Kosmas, and wrapped up again for the descent. At this height sleet was falling and there was snow on the road hairpinning down to Geraki which Barry took very carefully. Passing below the Kastro (Geraki castle, medieval town and Byzantine churches) we rejoined our outward route at Ag Dimitrios and arrived home before dark, cold but dry, after a very exhilerating ride in these excellent mountains.

The weather has turned much colder, wet and windy here at sea level, and we hear reports of snow in Sparta and Tripoli. We stayed inside and did some reading and mending - M sewing and B putting a new rivet in his Brooks saddle.

Margaret's ex-tooth is still causing trouble, as the socket seems to be infected now, inflamed and painful. She got the address of a dentist in nearby Skala from the site owners, and arranged to go tomorrow morning.

There is fresh snow on the nearby hills and distant Taigetos, and we learnt the roads between Sparta, Tripoli and Corinth are all closed. The winds feel wintry and today is another national strike of government workers. We wrapped up for the 10-mile motorbike ride into Skala: another town, another dentist. This time Margaret saw a pleasant woman dentist from Thessalonika, who spoke good English (and enough German to have given one of the Lykourgos residents a new set of teeth!)

The tooth socket was infected, probably from the last traces of the abscess. It had to be swabbed with saline solution and scraped clean and we left with a prescription for antiseptic mouthwash and the assurance that it would now clear up without antibiotics. She suggested having a bridge made for the gap once the gum had healed (about 2 months) and said all the other teeth looked sound. We shopped at the main supermarket in Scala where the man on the meat/cheese counter, recently returned from Toronto, sold us a magnificent piece of Danish Blue and told us how to find the place where Paris took Helen for a swim (near a cafe-bar, not hard to find)! We returned home, noticing how low the fresh snow lay on the surrounding hills.

The campsite owners claim it's never been so cold here and it's not good for their banana trees (or their electricity bill) but the wind dropped and the afternoon was fine for a short beachcombing walk, yielding lovely shells.

Dry, clear, bright, crisp, cold weather lured us out on Alf to see more of the mountains in the snow. Through the town of Molai and the village of Metamorfosis (which made a change), then climbing high, past the snow line on a cleared road to the top of a 3,500' pass. Here there was still snow on the road and we stopped for a drink of coffee from our flask. Proceeding gently we soon met 3 small snowploughs on their way up the other side so we continued, surprised at the depth of snowdrifts on the verges, and at the good state of the road we'd feared might turn into an unpaved track. It only served a couple of barely inhabited hamlets, with a track turning off at Lambokambos for Kremasti, before dropping sharply to end at the little port of Kiparissi, with super views across the Argolid Gulf to Spetses.

We were overcome by a feeling of extreme remoteness, just 45 miles from home but the only way out was by boat (in summer), back over the pass we'd just climbed (with the cloud lowering and rain/snow threatening), or via the track to Kremasti, whose condition was unknown and which would be further in distance, with no petrol supplies until we got back to Molai! So we didn't linger by the little harbour or check out the cafe, we just finished our flask and biscuits and retraced our steps - a wise move, getting us safely home before dark. The pass was clear, though the mist had come down and the masts of the relay station on the top were no longer visible.

After a working morning (writing letters, attempting some forward planning, cleaning Alf and making an orange cheesecake), we did a short cycle ride in the afternoon sunshine, round the back lanes to Molai, returning on the main road: 25 miles in all. This campsite is becoming a favourite, very peaceful and certainly in the Peloponnese Top Three.

Another bright cold day for exploring, to put the final piece in this corner of the jigsaw that is Greece. Today we reached Kiparissi by way of Niata and Ag Dimitrios, turning off before Kremasti on an 8-mile rough track to Lambokambos, which avoided the high pass from Metamorfosi we'd taken 2 days ago. There was still snow at the sides of the higher roads, but no fresh falls. In Kiparissi we warmed ourselves by the woodburning stove in the only hostelry. There were no snacks on offer, only full meals with a long wait, but we finally negotiated for a large bowl of chips, which came with plentiful bread, water and coffee, and all for 800 dr (£1.75). This may not represent a balanced diet but it was filling and tasty and we'd eaten eggs and orange juice for breakfast.

We returned towards Metamorfosis but turned off before the pass to Rihea, from where another 10 miles of rough track took us to the little port of Limenas Geraka, on an inlet of the sea which looks like a mountain lake as you approach. We had our flask by the harbour, a place we'd once reached from Monemvassia, and continued to the main road near Ag Ioannis. We went into Monemvassia for a brief reminiscence - the medieval fortified town across the causeway, the harbour from where the ferries failed to sail for Crete, Camping Paradise (closed) where we'd met the Australian Walsh family featured in 'Neighbours' (Echoes of Sparta ...)

Then back to base after 115 miles, to thaw out and eat to a chorus of 'Good Old Rosie'!

After a morning of domestic jobs and dhobi we walked a good length of the 5 miles of sandy beach, stretching westwards from the campsite. A bracing wind off the sea kept B's kite aloft, we filled our pockets with lovely intricately spiralling shells and saw not a soul the whole afternoon. There were some beautifully shaped pieces of driftwood and a few beached jellyfish but no treasure, except just being here.