GREECE

Awoke in the parking area below the Ag Nikolaos Moni to the clatter of horses' hooves. 2 packhorses were being led up the steeply staired path, their packs laden with gravel and sand for building work at the top. Meteora was coming to life: 2 men arrived in a car and set off to open the Moni (this one having no resident monks) and a woman was dropped off with her scales and peaches to sell in the lay-by. We had a kilo for 250 dr (60p). A couple of coaches stopped alongside us for the tourists to take photos, but then moved on to the more popular monasteries. Setting off just before it opened at 9 am, a mule track led to the foot of the Moni, from where an ancient wooden ladder climbed to a window. There was also a large net bag in which goods were winched up, still in use for the material brought up by the horses,

Fortunately, steps had also been cut in the 1930's to this tiny l4thC Moni, with a good view of Rosie parked way below. In his book, 'Roumeli', Patrick Leigh Fermor describes Ag Nik as "ruined and empty" in the 1950's, but it's recently been beautifully restored (work still underway at the top) and the main chapel has famous 16thC frescoes by the Cretan master Theophanes. We recognised Eve under an apple tree and Adam naming the animals, with a lovely line-up as if for Noah's Ark. Also more gruesome scenes of the Last Judgement, with scales weighing the souls of the dead and demons leading the damned off in chains, and grisly depictions of torture and martyrdom, some completely obliterated, perhaps deliberately as too horrendous. The dress code was enforced, despite the absence of monks, with the loan of a skirt included in the £1 entrance fee, but we'd come prepared.

Drove into Kalambaka to find Rosie's brake cable had finally arrived Poste Restante, and to find a campsite. We looked at 5 (and there were 1 or 2 more!) - 2 in Kastraki, 1 on the main road in from Metsovo, 1 on the main road out to Trikala and one just off it, which we chose as being the quietest, humblest and least expensive, though, like all of them, it does have a swimming pool. Odd to hear trains on the nearby line, and even odder to see grey columns of rock, some topped by the remains of 26 Monis (6 now visitable) rising and looming all around. The handbrake cable saga continues: it is not exactly the same length as the old one (the outer cable is too long, the inner one is too short) and needs some modification. B rang Clive, and spent some physical and mental energy on the problem. M rang Peter Underwood again, and got the familiar smooth talking, that he's rung Jeynes who will write to us . . . or will he?

A heavy rainstorm again in the late afternoon. Watched the televised opening ceremony of the World Amateur Athletics in Athens, very dramatic with torches as darkness fell and fireworks for finale, though it did verge on becoming the Vangelis Show. Still unknown if Greece will host the 2004 Olympics, but they're trying hard.

5 miles. Camping £7.77 with electricity.

Into Kalambaka on Alf to search for nuts and bolts and a metalworker, which were all eventually tracked down with the help of a Canadian woman running a hardware shop. A man working alone with his drill, lathe and welding kit in an accident- waiting-to-happen of a workshop by the railway cut and drilled 2 plates to B's specification for £8, parts and labour. B fitted the whole thing together back at the campsite and it looks as if we have a new parking brake, after a year, much patience, persistence and ingenuity. The road test is yet to come.

Heavy rain again after lunch postponed further visits to Monis. Watched a lovely tortoise ambling round our pitch and hiding under the leaves.

Visited 2 more Monis. First St Varlaam (pronounced Baalamb, on the site of a l4thC hermitage established by a monk of that name); larger than Ag Nikolaos and with about 8 monks in residence. Again well restored, originally l6thC. We saw the winch tower and its mechanism, still in use with a new electric motor and steel cable (for supplies). This was where P L Fermor and Joan stayed in the 1950's, described in detail in Chapter 2 of 'Roumeli', with the story that the old rope was replaced 'when it broke'. The church was replete with 16th and l7thC frescoes and we admired the carved, gilded, inlaid wooden iconostasis. Also on view were store rooms, with a massive 12,000 litre water barrel, and the refectory now containing the Moni treasures.

Coffee on the nearby cliffs, watching tourists teeter on the brink to photograph each other in unsuitable shoes, which made us nervous. We could see that the Grand Meteora Moni above was by now quite busy, so we next visited the smaller Roussanou, or St Barbara's, perched on a sheer pinnacle opposite us. Access was across a bridge from an adjacent rock. It is now a tiny convent with a wonderful homely feeling - lots of plants inside and out, pictures, new embroideries, a young nun reading in the church. a friendly woman at the entrance (as they all are), and immaculate toilets. Very feminine. A stark contrast to the particularly gruesome scenes of l7thC martyrdom and judgement in the chapel, whose beheadings and mutilation P L Fermor describes as "More bloody than any I have seen" when he visited the 2 nuns there.

Lovely black grapes on sale at the roadside at 75p/kilo. Rang mum who was OK. M tried the campsite pool as hot dry weather had returned. Finishing touches to the parking brake cable, but we won't really know until next time we park on a hill. Excellent 1992 Christopher Columbus film on TV with that superb Vangelis theme music (again).

Visited the Great Meteoron (Megalo Meteoro) Moni and wondered what the 6 resident monks made of being bit-parts in Disneyland. P L Fermor had referred to it being inhabited by 2 monks in poverty. We had to queue briefly and follow a group through, but by the time we came down the tourists were waiting all the way up the many steps. It claims to be the oldest (over 500 years) and largest of the Monis, the name Meteora (Rocks in the Air) being given to the rock by one of the founding monks. Obviously recently rebuilt for tourism, it had a large church with later l6thC frescoes and a l7thC Bishop's throne, a domed vaulted refectory now housing the treasures, the old smoke-blackened kitchen, a storage cellar with a collection of rural implements (though we missed the stuffed wolf), and the biggest draw of all, the Charnel House, with a peep-hole in the door to see the shelves of skulls and crossbones of the former inmates. Thought this in poor taste, especially displaying those of a monk who had died only 10 years ago, in his 30's, complete with a photograph of the man above his skull. Any lingering notion of religious mysticism or wild romanticism now banished, we fled what is perhaps a more spiritual experience at quieter times of year.

On matters more temporal, went to Kalambaka Health Centre, where Barry was immediately and efficiently treated again, the 4 stitches being painlessly removed from his head. Another hot afternoon spent reading, writing, baking and swimming.

Long day on Alf into the Pindos Mountains to the west of Meteora, crossing the wide stony riverbed of the Peneios and then climbing steeply through forests and villages. Lunch by a drinking fountain in Kastanea, sampling the clear water, then higher still, over a pass on the shoulder of Mt Tringia and down along the wooded valley of the Aspropotamos ('White River'). Between Dholiana and Kranea, turned up a track for half a mile to reach the lovely l8thC church of Timiou Stavrou, a very unusual fairy-tale building. It was locked and deserted, but newly restored and very quaint with its 12 cupolas and naive stone carvings. And completely isolated, not visible from the road, why is it there? We'd never have known but for the Rough Guide (p 285). On our map the black-top road ended just after Kranea but, thanks to EU money, it now continues through to the village of Ag Nikolaos and we rode on, eventually taking a short cut on a rough road, past flocks of goats and working pack-horses, to link with the road to Kalambaka just before the Peneios bridge. It was still warm and sunny as we descended to the valley, leaving the cool freshness of the hills. Finished with a meal in a grill in Kalambaka (Greek salad, chips, chicken, pork).

Very hot again. Spent morning on the Diary (revised and printed July and got August up to date) and microwaved a chocolate cake with dates and walnuts (a surprisingly good combination). Campsite still quiet, just sharing the swimming pool with 2 families (German and Italian) and flights of swallows skimming the surface for insects. Other inhabitants include a pair of tortoises and a jay, who sits in the fruit trees eating cherries held in his claw.

Visited the Moni (or, as the sign said, 'Nannery') of Ag Stefanos (now a working convent with about 20 nuns), easily reached by a short bridge. This had a rich treasury with illuminated manuscripts, some from the 9thC, medieval embroidery, icons etc, (and lovely air conditioning in the museum). The frescoes in the older l5thC church (St Stephens) were damaged and defaced, those in the l8thC church (St Charalambos') were obviously being restored, with scaffolding still in place and a box for donations towards the painting. This Moni had suffered badly in WWII, looted by Italians who took the bells and machine-gunned and mortar-bombed by Germans from below on suspicion of harbouring guerillas. P L Fermor refers to "the l4thC frescoes, the fragments of which, with the broken woodwork, now lie about the floor in pathetic heaps of rubble". He was shown round by a lame Abbot, whose leg was smashed in the fighting with ELAS guerillas just after the War.

Now it was very quiet, shortly before closing time at 6 pm, and a cleaner was polishing the woodwork in the newer chapel. To our surprise, she opened the lid of a carved box and dusted the pate of St Charalambos! We knew his miraculous head was kept in a reliquary here but would never have found it. The little garden ended in a precipitous drop and an amazing view over Kalambaka and the plain. This is the Moni we can see above our campsite, with an illuminated cross at night. Our visit had a melodic finale when a nun came and beat out a rhythm with a mallet on the wooden semantron. These are long flat wooden beams, hanging in each Moni near the bells, and are beaten in threes in commemoration of the Trinity. One story is that Noah used such an instrument to summon the animals to the Ark, another is that the ringing of bells was forbidden by the Turks. The sound certainly carried throughout the Moni for several minutes, perhaps signifying time for church, supper, or locking the doors? We left, with a sense of peace and a fitting end to a day, matching the delight of waking below our first Meteora Moni to see the packhorses going up.

B rang Comfort Insurance to renew Alf's cover (expired yesterday) and we returned for supper and another good film, 'Mutiny on the Bounty' with Anthony Hopkins as Capn Bligh and Mel Gibson as Fletcher Christian, also starring the Vangelis theme music.

Into the town to shop, photocopy Diary for July, buy souvenir booklet on Meteora and collect a film (the developer asking to see how Barry's head had healed after processing the gory photos!) After lunch the heat built up into a rainstorm which brought the tortoise out. Wrote to mum and had a last swim.

An early morning visit to the last of the Monis, Ag Triada (Holy Trinity), perched on a tall pillar of rock next to Ag Stefanos. Access, down a rough path then climbing 130 steps carved, partly in a tunnel, in the rock was the hardest of the 6, though preferable to the vertical wooden ladder we saw fastened in a channel on the rockface, used until the 1930's! We were greeted by a kindly young monk, with only one eye and almost blind, who was handing chunks of Lukumi (Turkish delight) round a small group. Speaking a little German and less English, he peered at our money, gave up attempting to count it and invited us to view the chapel and the panorama. The building gave us a glimpse of how the others had been before restoration was complete: plumbers, electricians and builders were at work, rebuilding and plastering.

A few kitchen and farm implements in a dusty case will obviously soon be a museum, the winch room for the net hoist resembled an old wooden shed, in need of renovation, but the frescoes covering every inch of the chapel walls had recently been restored (the Rough Guide describes them as 'black with soot and damp'), That book mentions 3 resident Brothers, the Michelin Guide says Pop 1'. P L Fermor says it was the poorest of the Meteora Monis, abandoned before the War and empty. The panorama from the gardens behind was superb and we climbed to the platform with a set of bells and chimes tinkling on the wind. The stack of new bricks and tiles and the discarded worm-eaten beams showed the extent of the restoration project.

On the way up we'd passed a man selling icons 'hand-painted on 600-year-old wood', so the old woodwork was not being wasted. We felt sorry one Moni could not be left 'ungentrified'. As we were leaving, our Monk (who didn't recognise us) wanted to know our nationality, religion ('Protestant'), if Barry was a 'Pensionist' and how many children. We must have answered well as he pressed a box of incense into Barry's hands then, looking for a gift for Margaret, gave her half a dozen tapering beeswax candles - 'for house' - along with more Lukumi. We were very touched, Barry gave him a nice hug (Margaret was unsure if she should). We'll not forget Ag Triada.

Then into Kalambaka for the weekly veg market and to post mum's package before hitting the road in Rosie. We bypassed Trikala and continued on the main road across the Thessaly Plain, following the River Peneios, through wheat and cornfields to Larissa (famous as the centre of the Tractor Blockas last Christmas, led by another Vangelis). A huge, empty car park between the Praktiker and Eurospar stores on the Larissa bypass made an excellent place for the night, and Eurospar had all we hoped to buy except the elusive Golden Syrup.

67 miles. Free night.

Visited Praktiker to buy an assortment of useful bits, then onto the so-called Athens to Thessalonika motorway (despite a £2 toll, it was indistinguishable from other roads - not even a dual carriageway - and dangerously busy). The road ran through the 3-mile long Vale of Tempe, a gorge cut by the River Peneios between the Olympos and Ossa mountains, but the traffic was too heavy to stop and notice it. Parked at the seaward end of it, below Platamonas Castle, we ate a hurried lunch and used Alf to explore the pandemonium of campsites crowded along the pebbly beach between Platamon and Skotina. Most were full (of Greek families in tents), and we almost gave up before reaching the EOT (Greek Tourist Office) site at Skotina, a vast area of woodland between Mount Olympos and the sea. It had a lot of space and Rosie was soon brought down to cool off in a quiet corner, under and surrounded by trees (oak and chestnut). A brief thunderstorm, finding the electrician to restore our hook-up, watching a Boy Scout troop's campfire and awards ceremony in the gathering darkness and, finally, Rowan Atkinson ('Thin Blue Line') on TV completed a busy day.

39 miles. Camping £10.25 inc elec.

Rest day. Dhobi, domestics, reading, writing, exploring campsite (with Alf and a compass!) B wrote to Clive at Gold with many thanks for the parking brake cable and a nice diagram of how it was made to work (which it does, well).

A quiet morning after a terrific sheet lightning storm had illuminated the sky in the early hours, with thunder and rain. Perhaps we are too close to Homer's "mysterious folds of Olympos", seat of the 12 Greek Gods, from where Zeus unloosed his thunderbolts in "his godlike wrath" against the Titans and Mankind. The peaks are mostly in mist and low cloud with frequent storms, inspiring awe since ancient times (and still scaring Margaret right now).

After lunch rode inland to the village of Skotina and north along the coast to Leptokaria, another little seaside resort for Greeks. Returned on woodland tracks, with a promise of blackberries to come.

We used Alf again to travel further north along the coast towards Katerini, turning 3 miles inland to visit the museum and archaeological park at Ancient Dion, the sacred Macedonian city dedicated to Zeus (Dios) in the 5thC BC. A fascinating site, at the eastern foot of Mt Olympos, much bigger than we expected and still under active excavation. Very understated in our guidebooks, it must be newly uncovered. It grew up around the sacred temples to Zeus, Asclepius, Isis, Dionysus et al. Alexander the Great and his father, Philip II, both came to worship. The Greek theatre, which was built for the Olympiads of Dion, celebrated in honour of Zeus and the Muses, has been restored and is used for performances in the summer Olympus Festival, along with nearby Platamon Castle. The city grew during Roman rule, with a second Roman theatre, huge baths and other buildings, many with fine mosaic floors. The museum contains a selection of gravestones, interesting for the transition from Greek to Latin inscriptions, some bearing both. Most impressed by a superb mosaic, found in the banqueting hall of a house (and transferred to the museum's basement wall) showing Dionysus on a chariot. There are also early Christian finds, the city being abandoned after earthquakes in the 5thC AD and then buried under mud, which helped preserve the statues and other finds. It now lies under open marshy fields, enabling extensive excavation. The river which made it a harbour is no longer navigable but the stream still waters the site. A wonderful, if hot, place to wander.

After a picnic, rode back to Litohoro, the gateway to the Olympus National Park. The range has 9 peaks, all over 2,600 m/8,500 ft. Above the town, a forest road hairpins for over 10 miles, turning into a track before reaching Prionia, with springs, a car park and cafe at 1,100 m/13,600 ft. Still very green at this height, with a stream and pine trees, but distinctly cooler and more humid. From here it's 2.5 hour walk (on the E4 of course), climbing another 1,000 m, to a mountain refuge hut (where meals and beds can be booked) and a further 2.5 hours' climb to the summit of Greece's highest peak, Mytikas, at 2,917m/9,570', which is still under snow and requires some mountaineering skills. It appeared popular with the young and hardy, and horses could be hired for the first stage to the refuge. Perhaps another day . . Back at our base camp, we watched the video of Blessed Brian's 3rd attempt on Everest and hoped it would be his last.

Rode to the nearby Crusader Castle of Platamon (1204), well sited on a hill overlooking the sea, guarding the road north from the Vale of Tempe, and reputedly on the site of ancient Heracleion. A huge piece of military architecture, it was used by the Franks, Byzantines, Venetians and Turks, and was inhabited until the 19th century. Now being rebuilt, entry still free, with good views of the coast if you 'climp' on the walls at your own risk.

Joined the throngs of Greek holiday-makers and day-trippers in the Vale of Tampa for a picnic lunch (but not for a cruise in the 'Love Boat'). Here the River Penelos, which we'd followed from Kalambaka, cuts a 3-mile ravine, though the valley will be more beautiful once the tunnel is open and diverts the noise of the National Road. The path from the road to the footbridge was lined with stalls selling fruit, roasted corn-on-the-cobs, icons and souvenirs, to take your mind off the warning that the bridge was under repair (no sign of that) and should not carry more than 10 people at a time (no chance of that!)

Then we did find a quiet and scenic route by taking the minor road following the river to the Ossa coast, through Stomio, Karitsa and Kokkino Nero. Dense beech and oak forest covers the hillsides down to the sea, and there are small cheerful resorts with free basic campsites, mainly for Greek tents. Returned the same way along the newly laid corniche road.

A shopping trip to Katerini, the only town between Larissa and Thessalonika, with a smart new pedestrianised centre. It did feel more prosperous than the towns further south. Found the post office, bookshop (2 more for our Greek collection: 'The End of Atlantis' by J V Luce and 'Hellas' by Nicholas Gage), supermarket and a new sparking plug to help Alf climb mountains. A good lunch in Goody's. (Almost fish'n' chips).

Then reading and writing (M is finishing Wunderlich's 'The Secret of Crete', exploding Arthur Evans's myths; B is coping with P L Fermor's 'Mani).

Further exploration of the tobacco fields and foothills of Olympos, Alf climbing well in the sunshine. The track inland across Kato Olympos, which might have led us to Olympiada and from there up to a ski station, was closed. Instead we had to continue to Dion and then through intensive tobacco farms to the village of Vrondou. From there mountain tracks took us to 2 interesting sanctuaries, popular with Greeks out for a pilgrimage and a picnic on this holiday (Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin). The shrine of Agia Kori, at the bottom of a small gorge built over a spring, was busy with people lighting candles, filling bottles with the holy water and leaving her handwritten notes. A mile or two away was the l4thC church of Ag Triada (Holy Trinity), built out on a rock overlooking a wooded clearing where several groups had come to relax, with radios and barbecues.

We were lucky to find it open and have a look at the frescoes before a black widow arrived to tidy the candles, waft the incense around and firmly look the door. Perhaps she disapproved of us eating our lunch on the bench outside? We then cut across country to meet the road inland from Katerini, which we followed to A Dimitrios, skirting the northern edge of the Olympos range, getting glimpses of snowy peaks through the cloud and mist which always envelop it. Returned via Katerini and the National Road, losing count of the number of campsites along the shore beyond the railway line. It appears that a new coastal road is being laid, as well as the motorway and service roads and bridges which are being built. Will they ever finish one?!

Drove along the dangerously busy and narrow toll road to Katerini, after which it became a proper new 6-lane motorway (free of tolls, but also of petrol stations, causing some anxiety). Half way to Thessaloniki turned inland to Veria (diesel at last) and then another 10 miles to Vergina. This is ancient Aigai, which was capital of Macedon before it moved to Pella but remained the royal burial ground, site of the Macedonian Royal Tombs of Philip II (father of Alexander the Great) and others of the dynasty. A huge burial mound has been excavated and 3 large tumulus tombs uncovered by a Greek Professor in 1977. Entry is down a tunnel into the vast air-conditioned area, excellently laid out and explained, with the amazing facades and sealed marble double doors of 2 tombs visible down flights of steps.

In the main chamber of the Great Tomb was a marble sarcophagus containing a gold coffer (or Larnax) bearing the 16-pointed starr of the Macedonian kings, inside which were the cremated bones presumed to be of Philip II (assassinated in c 360 BC) along with a gold crown of oak leaves and acorns. In the antechamber was a smaller gold Larnax containing the bones of woman wrapped in a gold and purple cloth and an exquisite gold diadem of flowers and bees, presumably his last wife? A stunning collection of funerary objects were put in the tomb, many of which we saw later in Thessaloniki Museum, along with the coffers. The smaller nearby 'Prince's Tomb' contained the cremated remains of a youth of about 14 in a silver urn along with other valuable grave goods and may be that of Alexander the Great's son, who succeeded him briefly but was murdered, along with his mother. The third tomb is not yet fully excavated but contains one of the earliest known Greek paintings, of Persephone being carried off to the Underworld by Hades. The whole place made a stunning impression, the tombs so vast and elaborate for the 4thC BC.

The surrounding countryside is obviously full of tumuli and underground tombs, with one, Romeou's Tomb, 3rdC BC, visible for free, a few steps leading down to the Ionic facade with the doors removed and a marble throne still inside the inner chamber. Further up the hill were traces of a small Hellenistic palace, 3rdC BC summer residence of the last Macedonian king, Antigonus Gonatus, and the site of the theatre where PhilipII was killed, but little to see except the view over the hot Macedonian plain.

A large free car park in the centre of the village was a long walk from the tombs and from the Palatitsa palace and therefore empty, and a good place for the night.

72 miles. Free night.

Drove through peach forests and canning plants to Lefkadia, site of 4 more Macedonian tombs. These temple-like underground tombs are of similar construction but each has a unique facade and decoration. The Great Tomb of Judgement (double-storey and the largest found), built for a General in 3rdC BC, is protected below a modern bunker and now closed to the public because of cracking and damage due to damp, but the keeper took us 150 metres along the road to the second Tomb of Anthimion, where a majestic flight of steps led to a huge set of modern doors which he unlocked and took us through to show us the amazingly preserved architecture and painting of a facade never intended to be seen again after its burial. Riding Alf, we found two smaller tombs in the immediate area which were closed to the public, though we scaled a fence to peer into one (called Kinch's Tomb, after its Danish excavator) at the roadside. Used Alf to visit the nearby hillside town of Naoussa and the Agios Nikolaos woodlands, with many Greeks enjoying the holiday Sunday in the park under the plane trees by the springs below a mountain gorge.

Thence to Pella, where the capital of the Macedonian kings was moved in the 5thC BC, birthplace of Philip II and Alexander the Great (382 and 356 BC). Here Euripides had written and died (in 406 BC) and Aristotle tutored young Alexander, in the largest town in Macedon, linked to the sea by a 14 mile canal which was destroyed by the Romans. The ruins cover a vast area along the main road and both sides of the road to the village, mostly foundations with a few re-erected columns. Some mosaic pavements remain, the best are in the nearby museum (separate entry fee and a keeper who moved us and Amos off the car park at 7pm but pointed us at a space behind a nearby taverna).

Amos was a young man from Crane Moor (near Penistone), travelling alone in an old (M reg) Ford Transit-based home-converted van, and far more interesting than the site of Pella! He'd studied archaeology at the London School, had previously travelled through Turkey and Iran to Pakistan largely by bicycle, worked as a cycle courier in London and on various archaeological digs in the UK and Australia, and had left Britain 2 months ago driving via Hungary, Yugoslavia and Macedonia en route to Thessaloniki to meet a friend (who hadn't turned up). He was aiming for Turkey and had the good idea of eventually following the route taken by Alexander the Great and making a TV programme about the journey. (He did have some London contacts, including a cameraman from the Ffyona Campbell Walks series.) We talked all afternoon, evening and the following morning exchanging travellers' tales, mutually inspecting and admiring vans (his was lovingly fitted out, with cork-tiled floor and he had painted blue and yellow cupboards and added external grilles to the windows, all done on a shoestring). We invited him to share our sweet'n'sour pork supper (with Amstels all round), and enjoyed the company of a member of a totally different generation.

Walked into Pella village with Amos to find a baker's, saw most of the ancient remains through the boundary railings, decided against paying for the small museum and drove on to Thessaloniki, leaving our new friend to visit Vergina. We knew Salonica (as the Greeks call Thessalonika) had no campsite but Amos had recommended a large free car park right by the Archaeological Museum, so we optimistically entered Greece's second city rather than taking the ring road to avoid it (we should know better - we had visited the place briefly and spent a night there returning from our summer drive to the Black Sea in 1991).

The traffic chaos was made even worse by a road closure and diversion in the centre but somehow we found the way along the waterfront close to said free car park - so full we would barely have parked Alf, let alone Rosie --so escaped onto the road towards the airport and Halkidiki. A few miles out there was a complex with McDonalds, its Greek competitor Goody's, the French Continent Hypermarket, BHS, etc, which offered a vast parking lot, our home for the next 2 nights.

We enjoyed a McDonald's lunch (the last seen was in Lauterbrunnen in November!), Margaret spent a happy hour in the Continent (McVitie's Digestives!) and then we left Rosie to recover from the trauma of Salonica and went back in on Alf to familiarise ourselves with the city and its sites. Philip II's daughter, Thessaloniki, married Kassander (one of her half-brother Alexander's generals), who founded the city in 316 BC and named it after his wife. Always on the trade route from Europe to the east, it became the capital of Roman Macedonia, on the Via Egnatia linking Brindisi with Constantinople (via Albania). This year it is the Cultural Capital of the EU, so we might have expected more in the way of signposts for foreign visitors, or even any at all! Their absence, coupled with the busy one—way system, made it very challenging.

Back into Salonica on Alf to visit: ELPA, who knew where to get LPG; the Tourist Information Office, who had very little; the bank, who had plenty; the bookshop, who had nothing for us; and the city landmark, the White Tower, who had well- hidden toilets on the fifth floor and a good view from the top. It is a medieval tower where the city wall meets the waterfront, and was used by the Turks for executions when it was known locally as the Bloody Tower, and painted white and renamed by the Sultan in 1826>.

Into Salonica again on Alf to visit the Archaeological Museum, our main reason for venturing into the City of Culture and Chaos being to see the spectacular Vergina treasures. These were impressive, unique, even breathtaking, and well labelled in Greek and English. The collection, the richest trove since Mycenae, could have been more sensitively displayed, with the finds in situ in reconstructed tombs (or even better left at Vergina), but most things were there: the gold, silver, ivory, bronze and iron grave goods (weapons and banqueting and bathing vessels), the 2 gold caskets, beautiful and smaller than expected (though not now containing the cremated bones which were once on display), the gold crowns of exquisite craftsmanship, Philip's ceremonial shield, a gold case for bow and arrows, the prince's silver funerary urn, etc.

Another outstanding collection was from the contemporary Derveni tombs, c 330BC, near Salonica, including a huge bronze wine crater used as a burial urn. The third special group were finds from 121 graves of the 6th and 5thC BC at Sindos, again including gold filigree jewellery, weapons and helmets with gold leaf face masks. These treasures of ancient Macedon, only recently discovered, are now politically important in proving that Macedonia is essentially Greek, and not Slav.

After all this museum musing, we needed another McDonald's before touring the other historic sites of the city: the Arch of Galerius (triple Roman arch from 4thC AD in honour f the Emperor at the crossroads of the city); the Rotunda (built as a mausoleum for Emperor Galerius, who stubbornly died in Sofia instead), later used as a Christian church, then a mosque with added minaret, now being restored as the University church of St George; the Ishak Pasa Mosque of 1484, also used as a school and hospital for the poor but now locked; the nearby church of the city's patron St Demetrios, built over the Roman baths (now the crypt and recently excavated) where he was imprisoned and martyred. It's a large 7thC church, containing a tomb with his remains brought back from Italy in 1980, but mostly rebuilt after the great fire in 1917 and the earthquake of 1978 which destroyed many of the Byzantine churches.

Sated with history, we left the house where Attaturk was born and Aristotle's university for another time and returned to Rosie for some more shopping and an early evening departure. We filled up with LPG at the city's only autogas station, which supplies gas-driven taxis, and then followed the excellent road to Halkidiki, hoping for a free night along the way. We'd seen nowhere suitable by the time we reached the campsites near Metamorfossi and Nikiti, along the coast between the Kassandra and Sithonia peninsulae (first 2 of the 3 'fingers'), so settled on Camping Mylos, worming our way in among the olive trees (now full of green fruit) and slept well.

67 miles. Camping £9.75 inc elec.

Relaxing at the beachside campsite, reading, dhobi, baking (fruit and cheese scones). Our little Kenwood kettle (bought last year in Sparta, and the third we've been through in 2½ years!) gave up, giving off noxious fumes of burning plastic, so the spare one we got in Huddersfield Boots last summer was extracted from under the bed. It's guaranteed for 2 years - we'll see! Watched an excellent late film on TV, Peter O'Toole as an insane Nazi in 'Night of the Generals'.

A clockwise circuit of the Sithonia peninsula with Alf and a picnic (c 70 miles). At the top of the east coast the little harbour of Ormos Panagias offered a 'Berg Athos Fahrt', with 3 crowded trip boats just setting out to view the Holy Mountain from a discreet distance. Athos is the 3rd peninsula, a unique theocratic state of 20 monasteries and 1500 monks (no roads, no tourists, males over 18 allowed to visit only with special permit, and no 'female mammals' since the year 1060!) We rode down a good road, through hills of pine trees with misty views of Athos, past rocky inlets towards the tip, but with few places of any interest, just little Greek resorts which are being discovered by German package tourists.

At the foot of the west side, at Toroni Bay, were the ruins of an ancient fortress and some early Christian remains on the shore, being worked over by a Greek-American team in wetsuits who were bringing up tiles and coins, but little for us to see on land. Beyond here was the high-tech resort of Porto Carras, Greece's largest holiday complex planned by the wine, oil and shipping tycoon John Carras, which we hurried past, pausing in the fishing harbour of Neos Marmaras, named when the peninusla was resettled in the Turkish population exchange of 1923.

Back at the camping we were invited to watch the Camping Mylos Olympic Games at 6 pm prompt on the beach - a delightful event organised by the children, about a dozen Greek and German, working together and using English as a common language. They introduced the events in all 3 languages and crowned the winners with coronets of olive leaves, applauded by an audience of proud parents. They had running, long jump, piggy back racing, swimming, diving, and wrestling in the rubber dinghy and enjoyed themselves greatly. They said it was an honour to have us there and it was very relaxing, sitting in the evening sunshine on the warm shore.

Rang mum (3 earlier attempts having failed this week) with PR address for Alexandroupoli. She is well, busy and going to Harold's tomorrow for a week.

Barry extricated us from the campsite with some tricky manoeuvring and we took a lovely route along the coast then inland, climbing very high on narrow but empty roads through dense forest, emerging on the coast again at Olimbiada, eventually joining the main coast road for Kavala near Stavros. Lovely weather, cooler now at night. Found a good place to park by the beach soon after the Amfipoli turning, with plenty of space near a couple of other motorhomes. Walked along the seafront and rang Alan, who has a Recorded Delivery (about the mortgage?) for us to look forward to. Rowan Atkinson's 'Thin Blue Line' (our only regular TV treat since we don't count the daily episode of 'Baywatch'!) followed by Michael York in Nevil Shute's 'A Far Country', a good story, a late night.

74 miles. Free night.

A relaxing day on an even quieter beach 7 miles further along the new coast road towards Kariani. We watched a few Greeks having a swim or snorkelling, trident in hand, to bring up octopus which they beat on the rocks in time-honoured fashion. We settled for boiled eggs, and caught up on our reading, diary writing and photograph-sorting. We didn't stay the night there, as a violent electric storm filled the evening sky. Feeling exposed on the empty beach we retreated to last nights pitch, with more buildings and trees about, which seemed and was safer.

14 miles. Free night.

A lovely drive to Kavala, following the undeveloped coast on a new road well provided with parking places and access to empty beaches. The Kavala bypass is not yet finished so we had to go through the town centre, past the port (regular ferries to Thassos and Samothrace, plus seasonal ones elsewhere) to a good Sunshine Club campsite about 3 miles east, in an olive grove with its own beach. Very nice apart from the squatters' toilets.

After lunch we nipped back into the town to get Thassos ferry times and explore. Once known as Neapolis, Kavala was the port of ancient Philippi, and important in classical times (terminus of Via Egnatia) where St Paul and Silas landed en route from Asia Minor to Philippi, Paul's first mission in Europe. Later under Turkish domination for over 500 years, till 1913, and occupied by Bulgaria in both World Wars, it's still the centre of the Macedonian tobacco industry and we could smell the warehouses.

40 miles. Camping £1050 inc elec.

Into Kavala to explore the old town (the Panagia Quarter), within the ramparts on a promontory above the old fishing harbour to the west and the caique-building yards to the east. Steep, narrow, cobbled streets winding between Turkish houses lead up to the Kastro on the ancient acropolis. Entry was free and we clambered round the walls, with lovely views of the town and across to Thassos, an hour away by ferry or less by the Flying Dolphin hydrofoils. The huge Roman-style aqueduct which spans the town was actually built in the l6thC under Suleiman the Magnificent, to bring spring water to the citadel. The Imaret (a many—domed Turkish alms house and school run by Islamic monks for 300 poor men, and the largest Moslem building in Europe) looked derelict except for the bit converted into an expensive restaurant.

The nearby house where its founder, Mehmet Ali, was born in 1769 was open to visitors, and very interesting. Son of a rich Albanian tobacco merchant, he became Pasha of Egypt, founding the dynasty which ended with King Farouk (and was father of Ibrahim Pasha, defeated at the Battle of Navarino). The house is now in the care of the Egyptian Govt, and an Egyptian custodian showed us round for a tip. The ground floor was kitchens and stables, with the living quarters and the harem upstairs. He had 7 wives, and their bathroom, toilet and bedrooms were on view, typically Turkish, all wooden screens and stairs.

After lunch we Alfed 10 miles inland to Philippi, named after Philip II though most remains are Roman and early Christian. It was the site of the victory of Antony and Octavian over Caesar's assassins, Cassius and Brutus, in 42 BC, after which it became a Roman colony. The museum was closed but there are substantial ruins either side of the main road which gave us an excellent and inexpensive viewpoint with the Roman Agora and early Christina basilicas to the south of the Via Egnatia, 4thC BC theatre (restored by the Romans) and the Roman crypt where St Paul was imprisoned to the north. He came in 49 AD and preached for the very first time, resulting in his detention with Silas. However, he kept a special affection for his first converts, returned 6 years later and kept writing Epistles to them.

The nearby village, where St Paul baptised the first European, is called Lidia after her, and we walked through a field to the 'Baptistry of Lidia', a delightful place by the river where a small bridge and seats have been built alongside a chapel, presumably for modern christenings. Charming in the late afternoon sunshine, and a small group of Greek men, chatting and fishing, insisted we took a few fresh figs from their bag. A new experience: pale green outside and full of pink pulp and seeds. Another 10 miles inland, through tobacco and wheat fields, was the town of Drama a nice park for drinking our coffee, but nothing Dramatic.

Day round Thassos, 1 hr 45 minutes away by ferry, the most northerly island in the Aegean and closest to the Greek mainland. We took Alf on the 930am boat, £6 each way for the 3 of us. Very calm sunny crossing, followed by aerobatic herring gulls, the younger ones coming all the way, diving for the fish we could see jumping in the ship's wake. Hilly, with pine trees right down to the sandy shores, its called the Green Island, and a popular package place, with a good road round (60 miles), producing walnuts, honey and olives.

In ancient and Roman times it was important for its white marble (still being quarried), gold and silver. Today oil has been found and we saw one rig. Landing in Prinos, we went clockwise, eating our picnic in the capital, Thassos Town, after climbing up to see the ancient theatre and acropolis and various remains below (temples, agora, marble walls and gates, submerged jetty) from 7th-5thC BC. Aliki, on the south coast, bore traces of another ancient city, and Limenaria Bay had magnificent ice cream. Detoured inland to traditional village of Manes, then took the 6.15 pm boat back. A Goody's meal in Kavala rounded off the day.

THURSDAY 28 AUGUST 1997 GR CAMPING IRINL, KAVALA

A successful shopping trip: supermarket, photographs and new heads for the Braun electric toothbrush (at the third attempt). Then a campsite afternoon of dhobi, baking, etc. Joined in the evening by a pair of Dutch cycle-campers who shared our coffee and choc crispies and good conversation in excellent English. Eva and ?, mid-twenties, both strikingly tall, blond and handsome, from Friesland had left home in May to travel round the world. They had cycled through France and Italy as far as Pisa, then by train to Ancona and ferry to Patras, cycling from there via Athens, Delphi, Ioannina and Kalambaka, following our recent route but on minor roads when possible, of course. They have 2 years to see the world after working and saving hard. They are also heading for Istanbul, but then take a plane to India and eventually Indonesia, Australia and America. We were impressed by their research and thoroughness, with good bicycles well laden and a whistle each to fend off dogs, but only averaging 30 miles a day when riding (with many days off). A 7-week deadline is needed for the kind of motivation we had for our cycling.

On the road to Xanthi, just before the river forming the Macedonian/Thracian border, we passed the Dutch cyclists and stopped to make a coffee for us all. Perhaps we'll meet again at the only campsite in Alexandroupolis? Then we drove on, bypassing Xanthi and stopping for lunch on the shore of Lake Vistonida, separated from the sea by a narrow strip of land. It was signposted as a 'Heronry' and a 'Monument of Nature' but we saw mostly large flocks of Coot and small gulls (probably the Slender Billed gull, as they occur in the Mediterranean while the similar Kittiwake is Atlantic). Turning off the main road towards the coast we spotted half a dozen Pelicans on the lagoon, then at the lake in Fanari we watched in disbelief as a colony of Flamingo waded, took off and landed - unmistakeable through the bins.

We'd just passed an EOT camping, so returned to it on impulse and found it spacious, shady, quiet, with good facilities and its own beach with views of the distant islands of Thassos (visited) and Samothrace (to be visited) and mountain at the end of the Athos peninsula (can't be visited by female creatures). Settled down to write the diary (M) and clean, oil and pump up the bicycle (s). Our new Boots kettle is proving unreliable already, and Barry gave it a formal warning as to its future conduct by breaking it down into small pieces.

54 miles. Camping £10.50 inc elec.

A sunny morning, 2 bicycles, quiet lanes rolling between fields of cotton to the salt lagoons between Fanari, Arogi and Messi which support hundreds of Flamingo - what more can we ask? Enjoyed cycling 20 miles, through the 'Wetwangs' of 'Flamingoland', to the end of the coastal path lined by Greek caravans. (Yes, strangely it reminded us of the Yorkshire Wolds and Hornsea coast!) This was the first time in many weeks it had been cool enough to think of pedalling again and it was really good to get back into the (recently oiled) saddles.

An afternoon of sorting out and other jobs - one roof box is almost empty now. Heavy rainstorm in evening and disappointment that 'Thin Blue Line' on ET2 was replaced by an absurd airplane disaster movie.

Cooler and fresher, with the temperature on waking below 70 deg F for the first time in 4 months, a sign of summer drawing to a close (or is it?) This morning's news is that Princesss Diana, Dodi El Fayid and their driver were all killed in a car crash in Paris some time after midnight. What a senseless, pointless end. Cycled another 12 miles, back to the heron sanctuary on Lake Vistonida, bordered by the main road to Alexandroupoli. We were rewarded by a small colony of about 30 Dalmatian Pelicans, swimming together near the edge. B used his telephoto lens to catch them taking off, as they sensed our presence at the waterside and retreated to the middle of the lake. There was a new bird hide on stilts, but we were sad to see gun cartridges on the ground near the 'Monuments of Nature' reservation sign.

There were again lots of Coot, and on the seaward lagoon various ducks and herons, Recognised Grey Heron, Great White Heron and Little Egrets, standing along the border of reeds or taking off. The air was also full of swifts, swallows and smaller birds feeding on the midges, taking on fuel for the long flight ahead. Another relaxing afternoon of writing, mending, cooking and listening to the World Service, with its extensive coverage of Princess Diana's life and death.