BY MOTORHOME FROM ENGLAND TO GREECE

With very changeable weather, activities alternated. On stormy days we worked indoors on the laptop, read some of our small library of books and magazines, cooked and baked our way through a basket of lemons (growing freely round here), made half a gallon of lemon squash for our cycle bottles, watched Greek TV (news and weather forecasts, plus the occasional subtitled American film) and tried our new bargain DVD player to view 'Bagdad Café' (given away with a newspaper back in England!) As we'd recently cycled along Route 66 to the actual Bagdad Café in California, we enjoyed the setting as much as the story.

On fine spring-like days we cycled, enjoying the challenge of the surrounding hills. Riding into Gastouni (10 miles away over a 400 ft hill) on the first Thursday - market day - we were surprised to see Mike & Flo from Camping Aginara driving a small camper van in place of the Kontiki motorhome we knew well. In the town, we shopped at the wonderful street market, tracked down the Post Office which had moved, and visited our favourite photographer, Dionysus Maniatis. Now that we both use digital cameras, we hadn't brought him the usual dozen rolls of film to process but his welcome was as warm as ever. Lunch was a cheese & bacon pie from the baker's, eaten in the sunny square before riding back.

We got a bigger surprise at the campsite, where Gordon, Wendy and their little dog were waiting for us! After coming from Finikouda by car, they had been walking the beach for an hour or so and knew from our neighbour, Gitta, and from Mike & Flo, exactly where we were! Life in Greece is one big village! It was lovely to see them and to catch up on news of Camping Thines, where they are based and where we are, eventually, headed.

Our most strenuous cycle ride was a 25-mile circuit of Arcoudi, Kastro, Chlemoutsi castle, the port of Killinis and back round the lanes via Machos, Vartholomio and Vranas: not a great distance, but involving 1,200 ft of climbing. Kastro, at 550 ft, is our favourite cycle ride in the area, zigzagging up to the village, where we noticed a new internet centre in a souvenir shop (€2.50 an hour). A steep lane leads up to the Chlemoutsi Castle at 670 ft, looming over the village and dominating the plain, a landmark for many miles around. Over 10 years of visiting this Frankish fortress (built in 1220 by the founder of Mystra, near Sparta), we've watched the EU-funded restoration near completion until now it is finished – which means a €3 entry fee (except on Sundays in winter, when all sites and museums are free, and Mondays, when all are closed).

We liked it better when we could freely scramble along the tops of the walls at our own risk, dodging holes and workmen's wheelbarrows. At least the two women who sit in the ticket office all day no longer have the onerous task of telling visitors that entrance is free – they have the even more arduous job of selling tickets to the handful of tourists who come up the path from the village! The climb is rewarded by the extensive view down to Killinis and out to sea, and by the wonderful freewheel in either direction, back to Arcoudi or on to Killinis. In Killinis we again lunched on warm pies and picked up ferry timetables for the islands of Zakynthos (1 hr 10 mins away) and Kefalonia (1.5 hrs). We considered going across for a couple of nights with the bicycles, but the weather turned very stormy again and we decided to postpone the plan.

Our longest ride was a 35-mile round trip to Amaliada. Here, we visited our favourite motorbike shop owner, Peppas, the genial genius who has revived our little Greek motorbike (presently 'resting' in Finikouda) more than once. We also went to the computer shop, where we once had the Encyclopaedia Britannica installed on our laptop, for a new mouse (a man needs a pet). Most importantly, we dined at the wonderful Pikantiko grill, where plump chickens are spit-roasted over coals, doused in lemon and herbs and served with piping hot chips and crisp toast drizzled in olive oil. The owner (whose girth shows what happens if you eat here daily) manages a staff of three, unchanged over the years we have known it – and gives his regulars an ouzo on the house.

We walked along the beach to Camping Aginara a couple of times for coffee with Mike & Flo, catching up on their news, showing them the slide show of our wedding and admiring the work they had put into the cosy little caravan they had brought from England.

On our last day, a newly arrived German motorhome turned out to belong to Peter Evans, a Welsh-born retired airline pilot, and his German wife, Constance. Now living in southern Germany near Isney (the home of Dethleffs motorhomes and caravans!), they are out to explore Greece, Turkey and possibly Cyprus (its northern side accessible by ferry from Turkey). We talked at length and hope that our paths cross again, further down the Peloponnese.

Farewell to all at Ionion Beach (that is, George Fligos and Hans & Inger) and to a tank of waste, after 15 days on one of our favourite winter sites. Then back along the newly sealed lane to Glyfa and over the 400 ft hill to Vartholomio, where we shopped at the excellent butcher's and a new baker's, as well as the well-stocked pharmacy with an English-speaking assistant – and open on a Saturday, too. The streets in the small town are still being relaid, their pavements blocked by new lamp-posts and trees to keep pedestrians alert.

Over the Pineios on the concrete bridge, built by East Germans as part of the reconstruction of Greece in the 1950's (and overdue for a revisit). Through Gastouni to join the 'New Nas Rd' (E55) and on to Amaliada (16 miles). We parked at Dia supermarket, about a mile before the centre, and walked into town (no chance of driving nearer on market day). After getting an 'Athens News' from the Periptero (kiosk) and a generous chicken & chips lunch at the Pikantiko, we strolled back to Dia and returned to the E55, pausing only at Lidl.

By mid-afternoon, after another 10 miles, we had reached Pirgos (our daily average mileage when cycling beats this!) and had to stop at the AB Supermarket for such esoteric items as porage oats (OOYTS in Greek – must have listened to a Scot). Bypassing the congested city centre on the Olympia road, we then turned right to continue down the coast, past tiny vineyards, orange and olive groves, with the railway line and sea on our right, hills to the left.

After the village of Kato Samiko, past the lane to the acropolis of Ancient Samikon, we took a left turn to the thermal baths at Lake Kaiafas (49 miles from Glyfa). Here we inhaled the sulphureous vapours and watched a couple of bathers having a free dip in the overflow pool below the cave mouth. The official facilities, closed in winter, charge for access to a big indoor hot pool, changing rooms and showers, and several hotels round the lake cater to those taking the waters here – even running boat trips across the lake to the little jetty beside which we parked. We have previously spent a night or two here, Margaret enjoying a warm (if malodorous) swim, but today we noticed a new 'No Camping' sign and an absence of motorhomes, so we had a pot of tea and continued down the coast.

At Kyparissia the beach-side campsite is closed until April and the harbour (where overnighting was once possible) resembled a building site, so on we went towards Filiatra. About 6 miles along, a lane turns right for a mile or so to the little harbour of Agrili, where we spent a peaceful night parked right by the sea. The weather is windy and showery, but very mild (no heating needed).

A quiet Sunday morning, eating porage, watching the wind whip up the waves at Agrili, reading the 'Athens News', writing up this log, checking emails and listening to the BBC World Service. The sad news is that the avian flu virus has now been found, in both Greece and Bulgaria, in swans. Puzzled, we checked out their range and migratory habits in our guide book, which left us more puzzled. We don't associate swans with Asia, nor are there east-west migration routes?

After lunch, a short walk past the harbour and its old windmill (now part of a Bar), along to the bizarre castle built of gothic concrete in the 1960's by Filiatra's eccentric migrant, Haris Fournakis. After making his fortune as a doctor in Chicago, he returned, as Harry Fournier, and built his fantasy Kastro ton Paramythion here by the sea. From afar, its towers and battlements are vaguely reminiscent of Disneyland, though closer inspection shows it is in a sad state of neglect. As if the 'bouncy castle' effect was not enough, the garden is filled with garish 40-ft high statues of Poseidon's horse and the goddess Athena, among others. (She would not be flattered by the likeness, resembling a carnival float figure!) It may be open to visitors for a fee, but all notices were in faded Greek and we didn't stay to enquire!

Driving on for 6 miles we reached Filiatra, at 150 ft, where the Sunday market was packed up except for the Ikon-seller lingering outside the church. Fournier had left his mark in his native town: miniature replicas in rusty wire - of the Eiffel Tower and of the globe he'd seen at the New York Expo in 1964 – adorn a little park on the way in, illuminated at night!

From Filiatra there is a choice of route to Pylos – the mountain road, via Gargaliani and the ancient site and museum of Nestor's Palace (which we've thoroughly explored before), or the coastal road we took today, easier and only 4 km further. This road runs down to meet the sea at the little fishing village of Ag Kyriaki, then follows the coast another 5 miles to the slightly larger harbour of Marathopoli, opposite the islet of Proti. The small colourful fishing boats were safely moored, but there was no sign of Jeff – the English retired marine who once invited us on board his catamaran 'Gable Moon' as we cycled past. We moored in the lee of the O Faros Taverna for the rest of the day and (hopefully) night.

A short walk round Marathopoli revealed a good bakery, a pleasant waterfront with a few fish restaurants and an internet bar which appeared closed.

Driving down the coast, we climbed up to 380 ft through olive groves until after 7 miles, at Tragana village (345 ft), we had our first view of the fine natural harbour of Navarino Bay and its sheltering island of Sfaktiria. Descending, we joined the main road from Gargaliani, leading to Gialova, 5 miles before Pylos, where there are 2 campsites (the newer Erodios and the well-worn Navarino). A left turn in the village leads eventually to the waterfall at Schinolaka, discovered on a previous walk.

And so to the port of Pylos, superbly situated on Navarino Bay and guarded by two castles – the new (medieval, open for a fee) and the old (a ruin, freely accessible up a long track from Gialova). The Bay itself has hosted two famous naval battles: the first in 425 BC when the Spartans on the island surrendered (very untypically) to the Athenians; the second in 1827 when a large Turkish fleet was destroyed by an Anglo-French-Russian alliance of just 27 warships, in a confused accidental engagement! This Battle of Navarino Bay was important in paving the way for eventual full independence for Greece.

The compact town of Pylos is set on the hillside, tumbling down to the central Platia Trion Navarkhon (Square of the Three Admirals). Around the pleasant square are the supermarket (with police station above), the old cinema which is now a good pizza/pasta place, bars and shops – a busy place but with plenty of space by the port. We parked there (an area we'd once shared with a travelling circus) for lunch, strolled and shopped and stayed overnight.

We climbed out of Pylos on the absurdly narrow main road south, which reaches 460 ft after 2.5 miles. It's a further 5 miles to the delightful little town of Methoni, with its imposing Venetian Castle jutting out to sea. The thoroughfare had been damaged by winter storms and was almost blocked by roadworks, but we squeezed through and parked down by the beach. The track to the seasonal municipal campsite was still flooded. We walked past the little town hall (where we were married one sunny July afternoon) and collected a package from the post office (the new Lonely Planet guide to the Ukraine, along with a map, ordered from Stanfords in London).

After lunch, we drove the final 7 miles over two low hills (107 ft and 56 ft) to the fishing village and summer resort of Finikounda, one of our favourite winter haunts. We were warmly welcomed to Camping Thines (= Sand dune) by Yannis on his tractor and were soon settled into our quiet corner.

Arriving here on Valentine's Day was appropriate timing, since it's a place we fell in love with on our very first visit. Along the beach lie 5 campsites (one to the east and 4 to the west of the village), 2 of which remain open through the winter. Camping Thines, run by the very friendly Tomaras family, is our base and here we may remain until Easter, taking a break after travelling continuously since July 2004!