MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR DECEMBER 1997

GREECE

Barry finished the first draft (10 pages) of the article which has developed from the Coxes' enquiry, now entitled A Full-time Life in the series At Home On The Road. We cycled down to the post with our bundle of newsletters, made several photocopies of A Full-time Life, bought a smart new brass curtain rod for the front window, and had a farewell pizza and Greek salad in the cafe by the square, with Ouzos on the house. It wasn't easy cycling after that, carrying a 2 metre pole! It was lucky that the 2 dogs who live outside the Icon Factory below the campsite have got used to us riding by and don't give chase now. The afternoon was spent writing letters to the Coxes and the Hunts at MMM, putting up the new curtain pole, and wrapping Christmas parcels for Mum and Alan.

A lovely clear dry day at last beckoned us back onto the road, after a final cycle ride into Kalambaka to post our packets and stock up on currant teacakes. A splendid drive from Trikala across the plain, then over two mountain passes to the coast at Lamia. After another 10 miles along the New Nat Road towards Athens, we saw the monument at Thermopylae, commemorating the defence of the pass by Leonidas and his Spartans in 480 BC, when they were killed to a man by Xerxes and the Great Army of Persians. "Go, tell the Spartans, thou who passest by, That here obedient to their laws we lie', reminding us of the film ('Go Tell the Spartans') set in Vietnam starring Burt Lancaster. Thermopylae means 'Hot Gates', and we could see the hot sulphur springs ('The Baths of Hercules') steaming nearby. The Greeks call the place 'Thermopiles' giving a clue to their therapeutic usage of the springs. After another 16 miles south the road met the sea at the little resort of Kamena Vourla. The EOT campsite was firmly closed but offered a good place for a night on its large quiet car park by the sea.

107 miles. Free night.

Rosie returned along the 'motorway' to Thermopylae and parked outside the service station just past the Spartan monument. We left her there while we set out on our motorbike Alf in bright sunshine to ride over Herakles Road, described in the Michelin Guide as "a superb mountain road running 13 miles from Bralos to Iraklia over the Fournataki Pass, 1935 ft/590 m, winding steeply through an impressive landscape with extensive views of Mt Iti, Mt Kalidromo and Parnassos". (Hercules had burnt his suicide pyre on Mt Iti.) As we climbed to the tiny village of Bralos the weather turned showery, with a rainbow, then colder and wetter, with no sign of Herakles or his road. There was an old sign for a British Military Cemetery in Bralos (British commandoes and Greek resistance blew up a railway line, a tunnel and a viaduct during the German occupation in 1942-3) but it was not to be found.

We descended for a hot drink in Rosie, then rode along the Lamia basin to Iraklia and found the bottom end of Herakles Road, now closed to traffic because a bridge had partly collapsed, though not enough to stop Alf crossing it. Riding over or round further road-closing obstacles, we finally had a glorious mountain road entirely to ourselves as it hairpinned its narrow way up to join the main road near Bralos. Cold and wet but pleased to have solved the riddle of the disappearing pass, we returned for another night on the car park outside the EOT campsite. 32 miles. Free night.

THURSDAY  04 DECEMBER 1997   GR   CAMPING NEA KIFISSIA. Nr ATHENS

The highway to Athens followed the coast for a few miles then turned inland, past a toll post (to fund the motorway which is being built, the roadworks are worse than the free roads). There was a second toll, near the turnoff for the island of Evia (Euboia), Greece's 2nd largest after Crete. There was a road bridge then a gradual build-up of traffic to the outskirts of the capital, where over half the cars in the country live. Impending civilisation was marked by McDonald's, Goody s and AB Hypermarket, all on the opposite side of the motorway, then McDonald's on our side (we had the set menu, 1000 dr) shortly before the exit for Kifissia, a prosperous suburb at the end of the Metro line, 10 miles north of the centre. The well-signposted campsite is quiet, with a lot of garage morts, a couple of apparently resident families (Dutch and German), and a friendly English-speaking woman owner. We settled in and got to know the wildlife - 3 very docile fat—cats.

100 miles. £7.33 inc elec.

Into Kifissia on Alf to photocopy the November log and shop - and how! The Thanopoulos supermarket turned out to be a wonderland of exotic foods (many of them from Tesco). We got our Christmas goodies, bought tins of Tesco soup (but no Oxtail, they're still doubtful about British beef), cleared their shelf of golden syrup (5 x 650g jars), and were pleased we'd made our own mincemeat and Christmas cake (a small iced Tesco cake was selling at 6000 dr - over £13!) Alf staggered back home, wondering why he was putting on weight for the festive season. The rest of the day was spent washing (Rosie, Alf, laundry, etc) and enjoying some treats.

Half an hour along the busy 3-lane National Road No 1 into the centre of Athens. somehow finding the hub of the city at the traffic island of Omonia and along Stadiou to Syntagma Square, where we believed the Tourist Information Office was hidden. It had, of course, moved but was eventually tracked down and gave us a good map and directions to Compendium, Athens' best English language bookshop. It was actually the best we've seen since England and Barry soon solved the problem of what to buy himself for Christmas (2 volumes of Evelyn Waugh's 'Sword of Honour' trilogy - they didn't have the third; Graham Greene's 'Stamboul Train'; Robert Graves' 'Goodbye to All That'; Bruce Chatwin's 'Anatomy of Restlssness'; Nick Crane's 'Clear Waters Rising', and, our only find among the collection of 2nd-hand books: 'The Best of Ascent, (extracts from 25 years of an American mountaineering journal). Negotiating the throngs and the one-way system of central Athens, we passed the cathedral and a huge market area, with meat, fish and every kind of food. This led us back to Syntagma for lunch, in Wendy's (very like McDonald's).

Re-energised, we explored Plaka, the old Turkish quarter below the Acropolis, a bewildering labyrinth of tavernas, shops, hotels and ancient bits which underlie the whole district. Content to breathe in the atmosphere of the place (and survive), we didn't try to name the antiquities, but did recognise the 2ndC AD Arch of Hadrian, which separated the ancient Greek city from the Roman additions, and the Roman Agora. Finally we went up to the Areopagus hill, just below the Acropolis, and parked Alf by a seat at the foot of some slippery marble steps cut in the hillside. We scrambled up to admire briefly the view over the Agora to the modern city and slithered back down to enjoy a flask of coffee on the bench. We would not have enjoyed it so much if we'd noticed at once that the little pannier strapped onto Alf had gone in our absence. We stared in disbelief and kicked ourselves for dropping our guard.

The pannier had contained our emergency kit and we'd lost our new pump and tyre levers, spanner and sparking plugs, inner tube and puncture foam, 2 waterproof suits and first aid kit, as well as the pannier bag itself — things which were probably of no use or value to the thief but will be expensive and difficult to replace. This dampened our enthusiasm for the Parthenon and we weaved our way back to the campsite, where an illuminated crib adorned the front of reception.

We'd planned to return to Athens today to take advantage of the free Sunday admission to visit the Archaeological Museum and some of the sites but the weather reverted to rain and gales. The day was spent reading and writing (to mum and Bill & Heather) and watching the campsite men struggle to fell a eucalyptus tree which had snapped in the wind and dropped across an empty caravan opposite to us. Luckily its fall was broken by a smaller fir tree, so it hadn't done any damage. We put the marzipan layer on the Christmas cake and were glad to stay inside.

Still too wet to face the ride into Athens, M made some phone calls: to mum, suggesting Patras as the next PR; Athens 'Lost and Found' (a waste of time); and Peter Underwood (ditto). Later we rode into the centre of Kifissia where we found a Sergio Tacchini sports shop and re-equipped ourselves with waterproofs: a pair of overtrousers each and a light jacket for M (none in Barry's size). "Don't wrap the trousers, we'll wear them" There was also an M & S store with expensive reminders of home (new socks for B). A second visit to the excellent supermarket for meat and fish for the freezer, then home to dry out.

We put the icing on the cake, using 2 egg whites and a pound of icing sugar to get it nice and stiff. B used his hereditary skill to finish it off, M finished mum's letter and had tea with Mrs Camping, enlisting her help to ring Camping Mycenae (whose number had changed) to check whether it was open. It was.

Dry at last, so took Alf 10 miles along the national road, in traffic even worse than Saturday, and by a lucky chance straight to the Archaeological Museum. This was magnificent, 3 floors of the treasures of Ancient Greece, displayed in the usual unimaginative glass cases but exquisite enough to enthrall us for the whole morning, concentrating on the major exhibits, guided by our excellent Michelin book. ('Greek Island Hopping' was also very informative and entertaining.)

The ground floor held the starring collection from Mycenae, including finds from Schliemann's excavations since 1876, with the gold artifacts and face masks (one of which he mistakenly thought was Agamemnon - in fact it is even older). Impressive finds from other Mycenaean sites were the 2 Vapheio (near Sparta) Cups of embossed gold, one with scenes of a bull being lured with a cow, the other showing its capture with nets; and the small restored frescoes from Tiryns (Schliemann again!) which looked remarkably like the 'court ladies' at Knossos. The sculpture on the rest of the ground floor was outstanding, and we could follow the transition from Archaic (huge votive Egyptian-style stone Kouros and Korai from 10th—6th C BC), through Classical (marble, gold and ivory sculptures and bronze figures from 5th-3rd C BC) to Hellenistic (more lifelike statues in marble and bronze, developing into Roman-style art). The bronze masterpieces were stunning: the Artemision Poseidon, and the Horse and Jockey, both salvaged from the sea off Cape Artemision at the top of Euboia. There were Roman copies of earlier (lost) statues from the Acropolis, beautifully sculpted tombstones from the Kerameikos cemetery (outside the Athens city wall), and a touching little statue of a child in cloak and hood carrying a dog which was found and brought from Smyrna (Izmir) in 1922 along with thousands of refugees. Several art students were at work in different rooms, sketching and painting, and a party of young schoolchildren had work-books to complete and were busy trying to draw the Mask of Agamemnon.

The 2nd floor was a vast collection of ceramics, from Geometric through Archaic (Corinthian black figure ware) to Classical (red figure ware). There was too much of this stuff which is a specialist interest, like coins (which are in a separate Numismatic Museum). The top floor held the other great attraction, the Santorini frescoes from Akrotiri. We couldn't imagine how they'd survived removal, transport and reconstruction, and gazed in astonishment on the (presumably) originals of the pictures we'd seen reproduced so often: the boxing children, the fisherboy, the antelopes, the blue monkeys, the crocus-gathering women, the liliesand swallows, and long panels with the naval expedition and a river scene. The artifacts included a plaster cast of a bed, made by pouring plaster into the holes left in the volcanic ash. We're glad to have seen the site on Santorini, to put them in their unique context. There are plans to build a museum and return them to the island.

This was followed by finding a McDonald's, the way back and (with more difficulty) the discovery of a route to an LPG/Autogas filling station which was signposted off the main road, one turn-off before Kifissia. We got back as darkness fell.

A last ride into Kifissia for bread, post, and to buy a reading lamp, then we packed up and drove along the National road through and out of Athens, calling at the filling station we found yesterday, near the Sewage Plant, for a fill of LPG (is it a by-product?!) and diesel (the first needed since filling before the Turkish border, 670 miles ago). We were relieved that we didn't need to look for the LPG near Athens Camping again and were delighted to pay the toll and get onto the new motorway to Corinth, once capital of the Roman Province of Greece and only 50 mites away from today's capital, but so different.

We celebrated our escape with a meal at Goody's, then settled by the sea in Isthmia at the southern end of the canal, where we'd spent the night before taking the Piraeus ferry to Crete back in March. Another circle closed.

59 miles. Free night

Leaving Rosie under the watchful eye of the Port Police tower, we took Alf to revisit his old haunts in Corinth, and ours: bank, post office, the baker for currant teacakes, the motorbike shop for a service (of thanks) for Alf. We sat at a pavement cafe in warm sunshine, sipping excellent coffee and watching the street theatre: this is our kind of town. Barry bought a pair of cord trousers and the shopkeeper left us in charge while he disappeared on his moped for a few minutes to have them shortened! The kind of trust which restores our faith in Greek honesty. B also got a light waterproof jacket to fit and a pair of motorbike goggles (sold as ski shades, but they'll serve the purpose).

Returning to Rosie we found she had 2 British neighbours, so we introduced ourselves to Brian and Barbara, in a Kontiki, and Brian and Maria in a small Autotrail, from Droitwich and Bristol respectively. Barbara put the kettle on, we all piled inside, and stayed for about 9 hours until midnight! They plied us with coffee and biscuits, then insisted we shared their meal of pasta and meatballs and lots of red wine, in return for our help with planning their next 3 months in Greece. How could we refuse! Semi-retired, they usually wintered in Spain, where they'd met last year, but were venturing further to join some other friends on a site at Drepano, near Tolo, for Christmas. They'd arrived in Greece a week ago and had no other information on campsites, what to see, how to cope with the language and so on, so out came the maps and guidebooks and the evening flew by, though we didn't manage to convert the women to socialism, let alone Marxism.

On a brilliant sunny morning, we asked our 4 new friends in for a farewell coffee and gave them copies of our newsletter, A Full-time Life and a review of short wave radios, in which our Roberts is the best buy. We feel like a travelling encyclopaedia sometimes. They were all MMM readers and Maria was excited to find they had the issue containing Neighbours on board. We were famous!

Leaving them to explore Corinth and Loutraki, we drove onto the Tripoli motorway, below Acrocorinth, stopping to make lunch in a layby near an ancient stone quarry. We'd never noticed it before, but it made an interesting historic site in itself, the hillside carved into cubes, not blasted and scarred as quarries are today.

We couldn't take the shortest route to Mycenae, as the link road from the Nemea turnoff was closed, so on to the next turning and back through the countryside, brimming with orange groves in full fruit. The little campsite at Mycenae was empty, apart from the resident 3-generation family, several cats and some collared doves and magpies. We were welcomed with an armful of oranges and grapefruit. After doing some dhobi, we rode a mile up the hill to the ancient site to check opening times, intending to revisit it free of charge on Sunday.

45 miles. £7.80 inc elec.

On Alf into Argos, where we had our end-of-year haircuts and Margaret was transformed into an Alice. (Still trying to think of a new name for Barry - Samson perhaps!) We bought tyre levers and a spanner for Alf's roadside repair kit, stolen in Athens, and now just need a spare inner tube, as we got sparking plugs in Corinth. Our previous visit to the oldest town in Greece had been by bicycle and we'd skipped the climb 290 m/950ft up Larissa Hill to the citadel which dominates the plain of Argolis. Now Alf took us up to the Byzantine-Frankish-Venetian-Turkish castle, first built in the l3thC on the foundations of the ancient acropolis, from which a stretch of polygonal masonry and a tablet with Greek lettering are still visible. This fortress held out for 7 years against the Franks, and later Kolokotronis, the hero of the War of Independence, had held it against the Turks in 1822. We scrambled round part of the walls and towers, with views across Argos to the sea and port of Nafplio. We also looked at the ruins on the lower Aspis Hill, with foundations of an Apollo Temple and another fortress, then rode on to Nafplio. This was the first capital of modern Greece (1827-34), where Kapodistrias, the first Governor, formed his government but was assassinated in 1831, to be followed by King Otto of Bavaria, who moved the capital to Athens. Now it's the best preserved Venetian town in the mainland and a tourist resort, crowned by the Palamedes Fortress, and reminding us of Rethimnon on Crete.

After a coffee and toast we rode about 5 miles east to the Assini promontory, between Drepano and Tab, and climbed round the few remains of ancient Asine, mentioned by Homer, but now just a pile of stones barely resembling Mycenaean ramparts. In a little church rich in incense we learnt that yesterday was St Spiridons day and admired his icons. There were good views of the coastal plain of orange groves, backing Tolo and its sandy beach with several closed campsites. Eventually we found Camping Triton II at Drepano, just as described by the 2 Brians - by the beach, with excellent facilities and a few overwintering couples. There's the rub! We talked to an English pair (one very much the ex-marketing manager and his partner) in an American SunSport RV who did a lot of self-promotion but didn't offer to put the kettle on. We got home as darkness fell and enjoyed our solitude (and a minced beef pie). We also met a young couple from Australia and an our-age couple from New Zealand.

It poured unrelentingly, from the sky, down the paths, onto our lines of washing, dispelling thoughts of free visits to Mycenae and Tiryns today or of cycle-touring the Argolid peninsula in the coming week. So a peaceful Sunday was spent reading and diary-writing, warmed by the thoughts of gales and snow in much of the rest of Europe, and later by some cock-au-van and apple flan.

Still it rains, and we spent the day preserving some of the fruit which the campsite family keep presenting to us. Every day Granny knocks on the door with a couple of huge grapefruit in each hand, or one of the grandsons brings oranges round or a pile of tangerines mysteriously appears on our outside table. They are all complaining about what a good year it is for citrus fruit, a bumper crop after all the recent rain, as that means they are getting a very low price from the orange buyers. We've heard of similar problems with the recent olive harvest. We donned our wellies and walked through the village to the local shop for more sugar and eggs (lovely big ones sold loose in paper bags at 40 dr (8p) each). Then we made 7 jars of 3-fruit-marmalade (orange-grapefruit-lemon) and 2 pots of lemon curd, using the pressure cooker in the absence of the microwave. It all set well, with the tang that only freshly picked fruit can impart.

The TV reception is poor here, in the hills remote from any large town, so we are re-viewing some favourite videos and reading. B has already finished 3 of the new books from Athens, M is working through a backlog of magazines with a view to leaving them for Mick and Flo, and we've dug out Leonard Cottrell's 'The Bull of Minos' to re-read the chapters on Mycenae and Tiryns with renewed interest.

Dry enough to retrieve our bicycles from the shelter of the gent's toilets and ride uphill for 2 miles to revisit the ruins of the city-fortress. This was Homer's Mycenae, 'Rich in Gold', home of the warrior-king Atreid dynasty and from the 16-12th centuries BC the richest state in the Mediterranean world, trading with Crete and Egypt. All its legends, of Agamemnon and the Trojan wars, and its more recent history, of excavation by Heinrich Schliemann in 1876 and the British School in the 1950's, makes the wild hillside very atmospheric and there is plenty to see among the rubble, though you need agility, a head for heights and a torch for the underground cistern. We had the site to ourselves and climbed up from the Lion Gate and First Circle of Royal Tombs (where Schliemann found his treasure and assumed it to be the graves of Agamemnon & co, but they are older - l6thC BC) to the Palace, the Postern Gate and Cistern, the North Gate and back to the Lions

They may be headless, but probably the oldest sculpture in Europe. Outside the walls are 2 beehive tombs from the 15-14th BC. The more recent, now re-roofed, is believed to be the communal royal tomb of Clytemnestra et al (Agamemnons wife who had him murdered by her lover on his return from Troy, the assassins in turn being killed by Orestes, son of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon). The older tomb, whose roof has fallen in, is also being reconstructed. Nearby is another circle of royal shaft graves, l7thC BC (even older than Schliemann's) whose discovery in 1952 caused Cottrell to add an Appendix to his book while it was at the press. The lovely crystal vase in the shape of a duck was among the gravegoods. The new museum here is not yet open, but will show some recent finds and those now in Nafplio. We assume the Mycenaean collection of treasures will remain in Athens. After a swooping freewheel back to Rosie (and a free meal), we cycled back up the hill, past tavernas and souvenir shops (mostly closed and quiet now), to the beehive tomb just below the main site, known as the Treasury of Atreus, a 13thC tomb, though not Agamemnon's as once thought.

Hugely impressive, dug out of the hillside and grassed over, we entered down the long, high tapering path, beneath the colossal lintel into a majestic dome 44 ft high, a precise conical vault built of skilfully laid courses of stone blocks. Unlike the others, this tomb had a smaller room off to the right, hollowed out of the rock, and pitch dark. (The funeral chamber of the head of the family, or a treasury?) We used the torch to find our way to a couple of stones at the back and then sat in the darkness, unable to see anything away from the entrance. After 20 minutes our eyes had opened wide enough to see and it was very strange being able to see other visitors peer in, strike the odd match or feel their way a few steps in, throw pebbles to see if there was water or a steep drop, nervously call out in case of an animal or snake, quite unaware of our presence. It was as if we'd become invisible. The spell was finally broken by an American with a flashlight, who retreated in embarrassment at disturbing our meditation.

Back home, M made a delicious lemon sponge cake to fill with lemon curd, and B got to work with the Superglue and 2 self-tapping screws to mend the fridge door handle which had broken. He also removed the front rooflight cover, which had been cracked by low branches at Kifissia and needs more drastic surgery with the fibreglass kit.

Rain, icy north winds, wintry scenes on the Greek TV with snowploughs clearing the roads we travelled in the north near Kavala, Drama and Thessaloniki. We're getting off lightly in the Peloponnese, though it's much colder than our previous two Decembers. The World Service reports the coldest weather in Moscow for 100 years, at -30 degC, with homeless people freezing to death throughout eastern Europe, and there is snow in London, with gales and snowdrifts in the south-west of England, roads blocked, schools closed . . . so no complaints. The evening news reported a plane from Kiev had disappeared as it was coming in to land at Thessaloniki airport and a search has been launched in the Mt Olympus region. We spent a cosy day indoors reading, writing, mending, cleaning the bathroom and watching Clint Eastwood again in 'Unforgiven', an exceIlent study of ageing in the context of gun-slingers, cowboys and sheriffs, and his best western.

Awoke to see a VW Kombi had arrived last night, but they left before we'd finished our grapefruit - high speed travellers! We braved the rain to ride Alf to the Marinopoulos supermarket near Argos for a few essentials. The multi-packs of biscuits contained seasonal free gifts: 3 glittery Christmas tree ornaments which we hung from the aircon vent near the door, and 5 little candles in the shape of snowmen, Santa, etc, which are ideal to decorate our cake. (Why have they come all the way from non-Christian China?!) The square loaves from the nearby bakery were the biggest yet, 2 kg apiece, each yielding 6 chunks of bread for our freezer. After lunch, we made some pastry and baked 2 dozen mince pies, which should keep for a week (?), and a delicious ham, cheese and egg pie for immediate consumption, hot today and cold tomorrow.

FRIDAY  19 DECEMBER 1997   GR   CAMPING MYCENAE. MYCENAE

Dry, though still very cold. We finally got down to the self-assessment tax return forms, sent to us last July, which have to be returned by the end of January. David Butterick had drafted them for our approval and signature, and we agreed his figures but were puzzled as to why he'd given non-resident status to Margaret but not to Barry. B wrote a covering letter querying this and we took the whole lot (forms, Barry's P60, etc) into Argos to photocopy before posting the packet to DB to sort out. Also bought Alf a spare innertube, so all the items taken in Athens are now replaced. We take no chances now and padlock the pannier whenever we leave the motorbike, though away from the capital we think it's hardly necessary.

After lunch, the campsite granny came bearing a tray of gifts: a sample of their red wine, a glass of their olive oil and a big dish of olives, inviting us to buy more of anythng we liked. (Oil at 1000 dr per litre, wine 600 dr, a good price). We're not too fond of eating olives and have plenty of oil at the moment, but we bought 3 litres each of red and white wine, which will be good for Christmas Gluhwein, cooking and entertaining. We were invited to have Christmas dinner with the family if we're still here, very kind, though we hope to have moved on by then.

A milder, dry day which we used for vehicle maintenance and spring cleaning. Barry repaired the broken rooflight cover with fibreglass, painted the doorstep and Alf's carrier with rust protector and a coat of black gloss, lubricated the TV aerial and rooflight winders Margaret was equally busy inside, cleaning and polishing. Granny called again with more gifts - a bag of walnuts, some lemons and tangerines, 2 beetroot and 2 aubergines, all from her garden, and later a bunch of assorted greenery for 'sprucing' up our home! Her grandchildren were busy decorating the bungaow and reception, with a tree and everything.

The beetroot had Margaret searching the recipe books, to find it could be chopped and cooked with onion and herbs in 10 minutes in the Hi-dome pressure cooker and the liquid used for soup (Borsch). It made a lovely clear claret-coloured consommé which, in turn, went into a corned beef hash along with the cooked beets - a very tasty supper. Sad news of the twin air tragedies today - 5 air force men were killed this morning when a rescue transport plane crashed north of Athens while taking part in the search for the missing Ukrainian airliner. This was finally found today (after 3 days of searching), in a gorge 700 m up in the Pieria range on the slopes of Mount Olympus in thick fog and sleet, with the remains of 71 bodies.

A fine day, an early start, a 100-mile circuit on Alf taking in 4 ancient sites, a museum and a meal: an excellent way to celebrate passing our first 1000 days on the road, the winter solstice and free-entry-to-ancient-sites-day (rained off for the last 2 Sundays).

We started at the small nearby site of Iraion, whose walls in the distance resembled Mycenae, but moved quickly on as we'd visited it on our bicycles 2 years ago. Homer's 'Wall-girt Tiryns' we did explore again, especially the parts roped off because the Cyclopean walls were starting to tumble. On a spur only 20m high, it has views across to Argos, Nafplio, the coast and a sea of orange groves all round. It was first excavated by Schliemann and the German School are still working on it. Most impressive are the gallery in the east casemates and the flight of steps down inside the western ramparts to the postern gate. We struggled through the undergrowth from here to see the recently unearthed cisterns which are roughly fenced off. We'd seen frescoes from Tiryns in Athens Museum and it was good to imagine such splendour among the l3thC BC ruins.

Next stop was Nafplio's Old Town and the Archaeological Museum in an old Venetian warehouse in Constitution Square. Here was a small but fascinating collection of finds from the Argolid, including Tiryns and Mycenae - surprising bronze armour and weapons from Dendra, a fresco known as 'the lady of Mycenae' and some astonishing idols from there, and animal masks from Tiryns. A flask of coffee in the sunshine, admiring the square with its 2 old mosques - one now a cinema, the other, the site of the first Greek parliament in 1822, being restored. Then to Epidavros, the sanctuary of Asklepios (god of medicine) with its marvellous 4thC BC theatre, the most perfect in Greece. Work was continuing on restoring the other buildings there, the temple and rotunda, but they didn't look much different since our earlier visit, 2 years ago. After 3 sites and a museum we enjoyed a good meal in the little resort and fishing harbour at Palea Epidavros, 6 miles way. where we'd once spent a free night in Rosie. Then a look at the Mikro Theatro there, much smaller but with a sea view. We completed the epic ride northwards up the coast to Corinth, checking a campsite at Almiri which our book claimed was open all year (deserted) and another at Isthmia (also closed). After a reviving drink in Corinth's Goody's, we rode the old Nat road back to Mycenae, arriving just as it went dark and heavy rain began. Perfect timing, a perfect day.

A final day of getting ready to leave. Margaret did the dhobi and diary, Barry did a multitude of outdoor jobs. Granny brought us more lemons, tangerines, beetroot, a cabbage and a chocolate bun from the baker's to share! She asked if we could pay for our first week, as she was going to Argos tomorrow for new shoes and the dentist. It's good to know the money is needed. She explained the cash from selling fruit goes into the bank to pay the loan on their 'new' van (a 410 D Mercedes panel van still with it s previous Dutch owner's graphics on the side), and her son had just returned from another trip to Athens in it, supplying 5 shops with fruit. He spoke of going to Bulgaria to sell their olive oil!

Later we walked to the village shop for more eggs, needed to make Delia's chocolate log, which required 6 for the cake and 2 for the choc mousse filling! Very indulgent, it worked well and we put half in the freezer for New Year.

We packed up and bade farewell to the family. Granny wanted us to stay for Christmas, but we wanted to spend it in our own way and leave them to their family celebrations. She gave us a final gift of a bowl of the sweet-bits which she'd got ready for the Orthodox service (very tasty - we identified chopped nuts, raisins, barley, pomegranate and tiny silver mints mixed with honey and sweet herbs). Initially, we drove to the supermarket near Argos, where we made lunch and bought our Christmas chicken, Cheddar cheese and other treats.

Then on through Nafplio and Drepano to find a peaceful place by the sea, near the hamlet of Iria. Just us, a friendly stray dog, the moonlight on the water and the lights of Tolo across the bay.

31 miles. Free night.

Feeling settled and safe enough to leave Rosie and explore, we cycled 10 miles around the area, into Iria village (a church, a tiny cafe, little else) and back towards Drepano as far as Kandia. The fields were thick with lettuces and artichokes, there were no shops (the nearest being Drepano), a couple of closed campsites, hardly anyone around.

After lunch we made a creamy trifle and the stuffing for tomorrow's roast chicken (apricot, peanut, rosemary and lemon: very tangy) then read and retired early to conserve the battery for all that good TV tomorrow (?!) We found some dog soup mix left in a locker, so the stray which is faithfully dogging us here went to bed happy, in his burrow in the sand.

Happy Christmas, our way —

Phoned mum, who told of strong gales in Lancashire breaking her roof tiles and Alan's greenhouse, but otherwise all is well. In glorious Greek sunshine we cycled 10 miles and 1,500 ft steeply uphill, declining a lift in the back of an astonished farmer's pick-up, to Kanapitsa (a church, sheep pens, but sadly no cafe), then free-wheeled 10 miles back with super views of the coast where Rosie (and the dog) waited.

After a snack lunch we cooked the Christmas dinner - stuffed chicken, apple sauce, crisp bacon rolls, roast potatoes, carrots, sprouts and gravy, followed by trifle and later we cut the Christmas cake. All this was excellent, the chicken came oven ready (minus head and feet, in fact without giblets - a pity, as we'd promised them to the dog, but we gave him some bits). Margaret didn't make a pudding this year because of the absence of a microwave (the pressure cooker would use too much gas and cause too much condensation).

The biblical epic on TV was the story of Mary and Joseph, from their early meeting and courtship. Mary's father was crucified for criticising Herod when a spy was at their table (fact or fiction?)

Cycled back along the shining coast, over the hill to Vivari and on to Drepano where we bought bread and eggs and ventured to Triton II. Brian and Barbara, Brian and Maria, and a young Australian pair, Neil and Kendal from Perth, were on the beach and we all gathered at the tables they'd set up by the entrance for coffee and biscuits. Barbara had organised a communal Christmas dinner with 2 turkeys the previous day and they all looked exhausted. The gates were guarded by New Zealanders Dave and Lizzie on one side and the Brians on the other, taking the best pitches with sea view and space to sit in the sun. Behind them rows of dark stalls with bamboo roofs led to the exemplary showers (with piped music as well as hot water!) kitchen, etc, with the Phelans in a SunSport RV on the field by the house. The owners were away on Samos until New Year but the ground looked too soft to drive on. We left saying we'd return in Rosie, but without enthusiasm. Brian and Maria went snorkelling, complete with gloves, and everyone was pretending to be on holiday, sunbathing in shell suits.

We relished the ride back (20 miles round trip), the chicken and apple sauce sandwich lunch and the usual Boxing Day Pie for dinner (all the leftover veg, stuffing, wine and gravy baked under a suet crust). The TV offered the perennial children's favourite, Jack London's 'White Fang', which we've now seen in German, French, Italian and sub-titled Greek, but it's a good film. Margaret started to complain of toothache in the evening.

The tooth which had started to ache was now causing pain and some anxiety, being the one from which the nerve was extracted in Sparta in April 1996. We drove to Nafplio, parked on the harbour and went in search of a dentist but most everything was closed. The woman in Tourist Information (remarkably open) was of little help, suggesting one address but confirming that none would open until Monday. We strolled round the town and raided the bank, grateful that modern technology obviates the need to find one open and queue, and returned to the harbour where lorries were loading oranges and beer onto Russian cargo ships.

After lunch we rode Alf up to the citadel of Akronafplia, on a spur above the city, below the Palamedes fort. There was little to see of either the ancient polygonal walls or the Frankish fortress, the indistinct paths overgrown with prickly pear cactus. Rain set in as we descended, Margaret's tooth was throbbing and the best the TV had on offer was Dudley Moore in 'Santa Claus'. A low point! We moved along the coast to a huge empty car park next to the town hall, separated from the sea only by the railway line, which was quiet enough for a shepherd to drive his flock along it, and had a peaceful night, aided by Niflamol capsules.

15 miles. Free night.

We parked Rosie back on the harbour and rode Alf up the winding road to the Venetian fort of Palamedes which dominates the town from its hilltop, 700 ft above the sea. Floodlit at night, it appeared to float above the town after dark. We had considered climbing the 857 steps on foot, but rain threatened and we saved our energy to climb round the huge citadel on arrival. It's a powerful complex of 8 independent bastions linked by secret vaulted passages, dating from 1686. The parapets gave a superb overview of the old and new town, the bay. the Argolid plain and the whole coastline. By the Governor's quarters and St Andrew's chapel was the cell where Kolokotronis (hero of the Greek war of independence) was imprisoned before being pardoned - by other Greek 'revolutionaries'. Several Greeks had driven or walked up for a post-Christmas outing, with free Sunday entry. After lunch we decided to move onto the campsite at Drepano and use it as a base to find a dentist and to tour the Argolid peninsula, so B manoeuvred Rosie reluctantly into a stall, whose low roof didn't allow access to the roofbox or the TV aerial. Barry did link us to the tall aerial of the unoccupied caravan next door, and we settled in, as far from the others as possible. The Brians were out for a walk and the New Zealanders and Aussies spoke of social exhaustion from the enforced celebrations!

9 miles. £8.88 inc elec.

The campsite owner recommended the Drepano dentist and we were there early. He was assisted by his wife, both Dutch and speaking excellent English. He took 2 X-rays, diagnosed an abscess in the roots, removed the gold crown only by cutting a hole in it, drilled out the filling, cleaned the root canals and put a dressing and temporary filling in. It was a painful process but the throbbing toothache ceased at once. Back at Triton we used the site washing machine.

After lunch we cycled to the nearby small resort of Tolo which felt very out-of-season, on to Nafplio, where most shops were still closed, and back along the main road, a 20 mile circuit. In the evening M accepted the invitation to play Trivial Pursuit, drink wine and eat snacks in the Kon-tiki, leaving B to read in sane and sober peace. Brian and Maria, Australian Kendal and Margaret formed the winning team, with Brian and Barbara, Australian Neil and Germans Jens and Claudia as the less than gallant losers.

Planning a day's circuit of the Argolid peninsula on Alf we were up early, packed a flask of coffee, then found his back tyre was flat. After Barry had mended the puncture, we took him into Nafplio and eventually found 2 new tyres - the rear one to fit soon and the front to carry on the roof until needed. Back to Triton for lunch, then a shorter ride following the route we'd cycled on Christmas Day and beyond, through Didima as far as Kranidi (5 miles from Portoheli) where we finally drank the coffee and turned back as darkness fell. It's dramatic terrain, steep limestone hills, pine woods and olive groves and very empty.

In the evening Brian and Maria came in to lend us some videos (a strange assortment - wildlife films on New Guinea and Siberia, travel in New Zealand, Catherine Cookson's 'Black Velvet Gown', programmes about psychopaths and serial killers, and 'Student Prince', a comedy about the Queen's fictitious 4th son at Oxford - we watched them all over the coming week). They couldn't stay to enjoy our coffee, biscuits and company though, as they'd drunk too much brandy with some resident Germans. We decided to avoid both the Germans and tomorrow's campsite party, being organised by Barbara, despite the pressure to join in.

While Barry fitted Alf with his new back tyre, Margaret cycled the mile into Drepano for her 2nd visit to the dentist at 10 am. He drilled, cleaned the root canals, changed the dressing and refilled it temporarily, explaining that he couldn't put in the permanent filling until all the bacteria had been killed. Only then would he be able to take an impression for a new crown, which would take a week to arrive. This process was painless, except for the delay and expense involved, and M agreed to return on Friday to see if it was clear of infection.

M used a few of granny's olives to make a pot of anchoiade, then gave the rest of them to the Brians for the party. After lunch we cycled inland in warm sunshine, along the maze of unsignposted lanes through the orange groves and hamlets around Tiryns, covering 35 miles. We bought coffee and lovely cakes in the square at Agia Triada and somehow found our goal down a rough track behind a church: the archaeological site of Dendra, where a cluster of Mycenaean vaulted tombs were excavated in 1938. We'd seen the finds in Nafplio Museum, including the bronze armour of 1450 BC, weapons and pottery. We saw a sign pointing up to the Mycenaean acropolis of Midea but had to turn homewards, again arriving at Triton after dark.

We spent the evening watching one of Brian's videos and slept soundly through the beach bonfire and party at the other end of the site.