MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR MAY 2003

GREECE

Barry and Margaret Williamson

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

01 MAY 2003 GR ROOM AT GYTHION

May Day, a public holiday in Greece when everyone goes out for a picnic (or lunch if more affluent), gathers wildflowers, now at their very best, and makes a garland to put on their front doors (or car bonnets - a newer custom).

As we set out down the cobbled lane in Areopoli we heard the sound of chanting from the Taxiarch's Church. A peep in the door showed 3 priests, their vestments in ascending order of splendour, singing to themselves while a few of the 600 inhabitants came and went. Barry recorded the music while photographing the outside of the 18thC church, unusual for the sculpted signs of the zodiac round the apse, with naive angels and a sun. Last time, we'd slept in the tower house next to its bell-tower and been awoken by the bells, something we avoided this visit!

An easy ride south, initially downhill after yesterday evening's climb, down the west coast of the Mani peninsula to the little port of Gerolimenas. More traffic than previously, much of it headed for lunch at one of the fish tavernas there. Also one or two new petrol stations after Areopoli and Maniot-style towers being refurbished or newly built - the Mani is being discovered! Made coffee by the harbour before the climbing - and more climbing - began, north from Alika. At Tsikkalia, after a stiff hot climb, we paused for a drink of water. A couple of visitors from Athens came over to offer festive cookies and told us their favourite country was Scotland. Further uphill to the next village, Lagia, where we made lunch in the shade of the churchyard.

Then down a bit and up a lot to Flomochori, where Alf once ran out of petrol. We were hot and running out of energy but it was downhill to the sea at last, for a rest and a drink at the taverna by Kotronas harbour at 4.30 pm. Refreshed, we decided not to take an overpriced room and rode on another 19 miles to Gythion. The splendid new coast road still ends at Skoutari, then a track struggles up steeply through the village, eventually joining the main road across from the pass to Areopoli. This runs past the Frankish Passavant Castle (the restored crenellations just visible high above the road) and over one last hill, dropping to Gythion's long waterfront, with plenty of rooms and tavernas. We stopped at the first room we came to, negotiated with the inevitable black granny to put the bikes in her living room rather than out on the street, and were ushered to the neighbouring "restaurant", obviously owned by one of her family. Too tired to explore and compare in the town, we ate the simple chicken and chips at a table set up across the road, on the edge of the harbour. This was followed by lovely sticky pastries from the bakery and slept well. Our balcony overlooked the harbour and across to Marathonissi, the little island linked by a causeway, from where Paris eloped with Helen when Gythion was ancient Sparta's port.

Croissants from the bakery for breakfast (disappointing the neighbouring restaurant of last night, where they offered the usual Greek breakfast: orange juice, coffee, bread & jam, yogurt & honey, at too high a price for us). Shopped in Gythion for bread, postcards and fruit at the market, and checked the accommodation in Glikovrissi and beyond at the unhelpful and well-hidden Tourist Office. Just one hotel in the town of Glikovrissi and nothing beyond until Poulithra, which means a short day today and a longer hard one tomorrow. Noticed that the seasonal ferry is now running from Gythion to Crete, thrice weekly (or weakly).

Rode along the coast, past the shipwreck and the free-camp beach where we'd met the Canadian minstrels many years ago, then inland to Skala, with its bridge over the Evrotas, downriver from Sparta. Through orange groves and agricultural villages, Elos and Asteri, where we talked to a gang of fruit-pickers from Pakistan. And so to the small working town of Glikovrissi (=sweet springs) with its one large, empty, expensive hotel. There seemed to be nothing else. We cycled the couple of miles down to the coast to check but there was no alternative - even the campsite we'd stayed on in Rosie is now closed down.

At least the room had a good air-con and a poor TV and we spent the rest of the day there. Fetched takeaway pork souvlaki and chips for supper and were kept awake by the noise in the streets till midnight.

This was one of the longest and toughest days we've ever ridden, through empty wilderness for the final 30 miles, over 10 miles of it on a steep, poorly maintained track of stones and gravel, the temperature in the 90's.

We rode north initially, crossing the main Gythion-Monemvassia road, to villages of Apidia, Niata (a break at its Kafenion) and Ag Dimitrios, then turned steeply uphill into the barren, treeless hills to climb, devoid of shade. We ate our lunch in a stony quarry, its barren wall providing the only shade we could find and pressed on, turning onto a dirt road just before the hamlet of Kremasti. This rough track kept climbing and deteriorating (M walked a lot, Barry rode back and forth, checking ahead), crossing the unmarked border from Lakonia into Arkadia (but no nymphs or shepherds to be seen). Late in the day, just about running out of water and daylight, we finally hit the tarmac at Peleta and zigzagged down and down to Poulithra, a long narrow village dropping to the sea, a very welcome sight at 8 pm and dusk. The only hotel claimed to be full (a coach was parked nearby and they didn't want their tone lowered!?), but a kind Greek visitor at the nearby Kafenion directed us along the waterfront to a very good cafe with 5 excellent rooms above.

As we ordered a lovely meal at the taverna along the beach, to the sound of the waves, darkness fell. Chicken souvlakis, salad, bread, a double portion of chips each and all the water we could drink. Cakes from the cafe. Peace! How dramatically and suddenly the situation changes.

Breakfast in the cafe below the rooms (orange juice, coffee, toasted sandwiches), talking to the owner who had worked many years in the US. He couldn't believe the route we'd taken, nor the one we proposed! The weather remains very hot and sunny, with no wind. Another hard day, but at least on sealed roads - up the coast through the old harbour of Plaka to Leonidio, at the mouth of the Dafnon gorge. Here we bought coffees, water and bread, ready for the long ascent to Kosmas.

We brewed up by the bridge well up the gorge, in minimal shade, looking up at the Elonis Moni clinging to the rock-face high above. Eventually reached the Monastery itself and had a picnic lunch on the steps by its little car park. M visited the Moni, founded in the 12thC and now run by 4 nuns, and saw the cave-chapel with the mysterious icon of Maria discovered there (?)

On we rode, up and up, until the Moni could be seen far below. A well graded road, no need to walk, all manageable on the granny gear. Up through the pine forest, nice to have some shade, then the mountain village of Kosmas at the top of the pass, by 4 pm. Its impossibly narrow steep entry/exit street once forced Rosie to turn back on snow and return to Leonidio, but we could cycle through to the big square with its church and water springs.

The only hotel offered a lovely room, with a small cooker and a resident geko. We had nothing to cook though and the only shop didn't even have any eggs (perhaps on Tuesday or Thursday, the man said - depends on his hens!), so it was chicken, chips and salad at the only restaurant, sitting in the square. Talked to a woman who remembered the Germans burning the village (founded in 1592 as a summer-pasture) when she was a child - one of 11 siblings left without food, shoes or clothes, separated from their parents and eventually sent to England. She ended up in Canada before returning in old age. She spoke bitterly of the Germans, Italians and English occupying the place, but the Germans were 'the hardest'.

And we thought we'd had a hard 2 days ourselves!

An easier day, but Barry noted that Margaret's front tyre was bulging in one place - exactly what happened to his front tyre (the same Schwalbe Marathon) in a remote part of New Zealand. We photographed the height markers in Kosmas - 1150 m - then climbed another 100 m or so, past a memorial to the events of 27 July 1943, listing 28 Italian and 83 Greek dead.

A 10-mile steep descent in a valley, crossing back into Lakonia, and a short sidetrip into Geraki for a coffee in the splendid shady square. A light cool wind began to blow from the north and the snowy peaks of the Taigetos hovered in a bright blue sky, visible all the way to Sparta, nestled below them. The road swung up and down crossing the lie of the land. Made lunch in a rare shaded seat in a layby just beore Goritsa, then a final 12 miles or so to the main Tripoli road, the bridge over the Evrotas and a busy couple of miles into Sparta.

The good cycle shop opposite the Post Office supplied a new Chinese (700x28) tyre for £2, an excellent mirror for B (broken in the quarry on the ride to Poulithra) and a bike lock (left one behind, probably in Aeropoli). The Cecil Hotel supplied a nice quiet room with TV and air-con. The Business Pizzeria supplied its usual generous Business Pizza and Business Salad. Civilisation!

An exciting day's ride, crossing the formidable barrier of the Taigetos which gave ancient Sparta such a well-defended position. B fitted M's new front tyre in the little yard of the Cecil Hotel, we bought bread, water and cheese pasties to see us over the 2 passes and set off, temperatures again soaring into the 90's. The TV news had talked of August weather in May and even warned the Greeks about sunbathing and skin cancer.

In Tripi, the last village before entering the gorge, we made coffee by the water springs, then climbed the zigzags, rode through the 2 short tunnels, and climbed some more. After 12 miles we stopped at the tiny wayside church for a drink, finding it newly painted with a single candle lit. A goat-herd and his dog walked up from the river below to light another candle and let us take his photo, though he declined our water, pointing to the stream below! We'd once been turned back at this point by a snow blizzard, on a day-ride from Sparta.

After another 4 miles (the steepest section), we reached the top of the first pass, the Langhada. A new tourist cafe/shop had appeared, but we ate our lunch at the deserted stall where cherries are sold in the summer. Then a glorious 15-mile freewheel down (stopping after 5 miles for a coffe in the only village, Artemisia), another brief climb, down again, a last 5-mile climb and an 8-mile descent, dropping a final 1300 ft into the chaos of Kalamata, which spreads about 3 miles back into the hills from its seafront and port.

We checked the 2 little hotels by the railway station. The George was better (and the same price) but had nowhere for the bikes, so we took the Byzantio, where they resided in the basement laundry. We ate at Goody's, where the Nigerian Eboes were still trying to sell pirate CD's. B bought 4 (Bob Marley, Elvis, Queen and 'Romantic Duets'). A stroll round the city, destroyed and rebuilt since the 1986 earthquake, showed many houses in the old quarter still left cracked and crumbling.

An noisy night until about 1am, with motorbikes roaring aimlessly round the streets and, with no air-con, too hot to close the windows. We could have carried on to a waterfront hotel, but maybe that's on their circuit too. How and why do the residents stand it?

Now retracing our outward route: a busy 6 miles (beware railway lines), past the airport to Messini, where we again shopped at Lidl. We bought coffees and donuts in the surprisingly splendid square in the centre of the town, then made lunch in the park at Petalidi when we reached the coast. Along the Messinian Gulf to Vounaria, we were overtaken by Gordon & Wendy, returning from a shopping excursion in Kalamata on their scooter. Only 9 days since we left Finikounda, but another world - M had difficulty recognising them. Barry didn't!

Taking a different, hillier route via Kaplani, turning off the main road at Neo Koroni, we reached Finikounda at about 4 pm. Rosie provided a warm welcome - 88 degrees F inside!

Rang the HSBC, following an urgent text from Alan. They need our signature on a form we haven't yet received, in order to pursue our unauthorised payment claim. Asked them to fax a claim form to the campsite: the world intrudes again. Also a nice text from Karsten & Agata, back home in the Fatherland, to say we are still in their minds and hearts. Which is a nice place to be.

A day of unpacking and sorting, dhobi and cleaning. The water left in Rosie's tank smelt a bit brackish, so we drained and refilled the tank and cleaned the filter. Celebrated our return with a peachy trifle. The fax duly arrived from HSBC and we completed the form, to post tomorrow in Methoni.

M sent a birthday text to B, but his phone wouldn't accept the picture. It did accept the box of Turkish Delight (sorry, Loukoumi).

We rode the 6 hills to Methoni to buy some chicken breasts, post the bank form and get the 'Athens News' (none of which is possible in tiny Finikounda). Then a quiet afternoon, making an enormous chocolate and walnut gateau (which lasted us over a week!) and a good dinner, opening a bottle of Lidl's best Advokaat. A nice birthday, except that the electric kettle stopped working. B identified the problem, in the plug at the kettle end of the lead.

Rode Alf to Methoni, to avoid leaving the cycles unguarded while we spent a couple of hours in the extensive castle (free to roam). On a promontory (sea on 3 sides, a moat on the 4th), it has a complicated history, changing hands (Franks, Venetians, Turks) since the 13thC. In Venetian times (the lion of St Mark and carved escutcheons adorn the entrances) the whole town and its cathedral were squeezed inside its walls. On a rocky islet, the picturesque Bourdzi tower (rebuilt by the Turks) is linked by a bridge. Lots of photo opportunities, of the citadel, harbour, islands, flowers ...

We also shopped at Dia and got a new kettle lead before returning, to have lunch and walk the kite on Finikounda beach, bordered by 3 campsites (ours in the middle). There wasn't enough wind, but we had a nice paddle.

A circular ride to Koroni, out on the road via Vasilitsi which climbs high above the coast with long views over the blue sea and Finikounda bay. Koroni was another strategic Venetian outpost on the route to Cyprus and the Holy Land, known with Methoni as 'the eyes of the Serene Republic'. Now it's a little tourist resort, busy on this fine Sunday. We ate our sandwiches in the park by the shore, beneath the castle walls (inside are private houses, gardens and a nunnery).

Returned on a more inland route, climbing through vineyards and olive groves, via Harokopio where we paused for coffees before the hairpin climb. The eventual descent to sea-level made it all worthwhile.

Back home, B dismantled the air-con unit to see why it wasn't working, cleaned its contacts and plug and it now runs fine. Encouraged by this, he dismantled and cleaned the fan heater and rewired it to blow cold or hot, instead of hot or hotter. All appreciated during this heatwave.

Meanwhile, M defrosted and cleaned the fridge/freezer and did some mending, to the curtains and oven gloves: both puppies are now called Patch!

We wrote a postcard of the Mani to the Gastouni photographer Maniatis (O man of Mani), a letter to Comfort Insurance concerning policy renewal and green cards, and a letter seeking an insurance quotation for Rosie to send to a few other companies, selected from the MMM.

Barry also worked on the 'Camping Karpouzi' piece, which might eventually reach the magazine.

We cleaned the cab out, including windows and carpet, and went for another walk on the beach while it dried out (in no time, this weather). Still not enough wind to raise a kite or sail.

Lovely French/English film on TV in the evening, 'Chocolat' (appropriate, as we work our way through the birthday cake and a box of Lidl's brandy liqueurs!)

We motorbiked into Methoni to post yesterday's letters, then towards Koroni on the lower road, hoping to find the track to walk to the end of the peninsula at Cape Akritas. The first turnoff, down a long steep and finally dirt road to Tsapi, proved to be a dead end, finishing at the beach by Camping Tsapi (whatever our map might say). Back up to the main road, along to Vasilitsi and another turnoff to Faneromeni, which looked more promising. However, the track became too difficult to ride, and too far from the headland to walk on a very hot afternoon, so we gave up and turned for home. Next time?

Back at the campsite it was somebody's birthday and late in the evening we were invited to join the noisy ouzo party. 'You know what the Greeks are like' said Gordon. We do, which is why we declined the offer!

Took advantage of the continuing heatwave to clean and shampoo the whole carpet, then a cycle ride while it dried.

We rode inland from Finikounda, up to Evangelismos where German/Dutch/English second homes are springing up at random across the hillside, then a loop into the real villages, where strangers warrant long stares and incomprehensible greetings from aged crones. We passed a van selling vegetables, parked in tiny Kallithea, with a queue of one cat (waiting for the fishman, perhaps). Round lanes absent from our map (nor on that of the road-sealers), we eventually reached Zizani, which luckily had an English-speaking woman (from Athens, visiting her old mum) who directed us to Kaplani, from where we knew the way back.

On the ride we saw our first tortoise of the year, a lovely big one sunbathing in the road, and moved it to a safer place. (The snakes we leave to fend for themselves.)

The short but pleasant ride to Methoni, along by the sea and over 3 little headlands giving a total of 6 small climbs. We shopped at Dia, phoned Mum and got a short haircut each: in this heat, the shoulder-length curls had to go.

In the afternoon we did the dhobi and tackled the problem of our water tank, still dispensing water which smells stale. (We're only using it for washing up, taking water direct from the camp kitchen for drinking and kettle-filling). The tank was again emptied, filled with a solution of 'Puriclean' and left to soak overnight. B also drained the hot water system and removed and cleaned the taps.

Cycled back to Methoni to collect the weekly 'Athens News' and ring Mum again (following her message re Saga Insurance's address). Then we had to empty and flush out the water tank again and replace the filter - at last it is running fresh and clear from our taps.

We did a final load of dhobi, cleaned and packed up, ready to leave tomorrow and talked to Gordon, whose wife has gone to Ioannina (a 7-hour bus ride) with Despina, to visit the latter's daughter, at University there. He used to work in car production in his native Midlands and, for some years, in Los Angeles for General Motors. He regrets ever leaving the US to return to UK, and vows to stay in Greece for the rest of his life.

Goodbye to Camping Thines, after a lot of manoeuvring to escape its confines. It had been very good for the price (half what most sites are now charging, with a good water supply, dump and laundry), but we could have used more space.

We drove the familiar route, through Harokopia, then up the west side of the Messinian Gulf to Kalamata, parking at Messini's Lidl on the way to shop and make lunch. Sadly, they'd finally sold out of the marzipan and chocolate goodies which had been reduced since Easter!

Driving from Kalamata to Sparta, hairpinning roads clinging to the gorge-sides of the Langhada Pass, we couldn't believe we'd just cycled it - we certainly passed no-one else crazy enough to try. Crossing the border into Lakonia, soon after the summit, we dropped through the harsh mountain terrain into Sparta, where Lycurgus had decreed 'It is men, not walls that make a city'. Thucydides predicted that 'distant ages would be very unwilling to believe its power at all equal to its fame' and he was right. The modern city, laid out in 1834, is unappealing and clogged with unruly traffic, but the campsite tucked between Sparta and Mystra, run by Pete Kapetaneas and his Dad, is another world. With snow-capped peaks looming above it, empty orange groves to settle in and the astonishing Byzantine ghost-city of Mystra winding up the hillside to a fortress, just up the road, we love it. The Castle View campsite, a little nearer to Mystra, is the same price but much more crowded (they advertise - Pete doesn't, content with the income from the shop/bar/taverna/ petrol station, and none too keen on campsite maintenance!) We felt at home at once.

78 miles. £11.42 inc elec.

In which we cycle 18 miles, a favourite 2500 ft climb to Anavriti and back via Mystra

One ride we had to do before the weather breaks (now forecast): the hairpinned road which winds up past a quarry (now abandoned) to the mountain village of Anavriti and on to the Monastery of Faneromenis. From there, a rough walking track (the E3 for hikers) descends to the bottom of the gorge and the tiny church at Sotiras, where we lit the customary candle. M walked the steep track up the other side until we reached the lane with drops rapidly into Mystra, for a long brake-burning freewheel to the campsite. A splendid ride, which didn't feel as tough as we recalled - those few days on the road recently made us ready for anything.

Back home, Barry worked on 'Camping Karpouzi' and M on this diary, neglected since the cycle tour. As we say about writing a travel book - the problem is, you have to stop doing it in order to have time to describe it.

Motorbiked into Sparta to collect the post from Mum and Alan, and to find an Internet place. We had an hour at the one on the main street above a video shop, clearing the junk and reading the incoming emails (Martin & Clare describing their break-in while on a French motorway service station for the night; Ian & Nina after a month when they all had a flu virus - but not SARS; Karsten & Agata with thanks for the photos; a humorous circular from Andrew Hague; a request for more info from Campton Insurance - which we answered.)

After lunch, a motorbike ride into the surrounding hills: to the north-west B found an alternative route to/from Georgitsi (part unsealed) which we can cycle. A second foray, to the north-east, ended after the climb to Hrisafa, when the sky darkened and rain began to fall. Despite Alf's best efforts, we didn't make it back before the thunder, lightning and downpour began. The weather has certainly broken, but it remained warm and once back we soon dried out.

We opened Mum's packet - a card for Barry, letter from Travelbag, CTC mag, and the card and Macca tapes from Peter Frankland which missed us in Thornton by just a day! Something new to read and to listen to - great.

Fine again and slightly cooler (80's instead of 90's) after the storm. Another favourite cycle ride, the steady climb through quiet hill-country, the tiny village of Karavas and the larger one of Kastorio, then the zigzags for a final climb to little Georgitsi, with its incredibly steep stepped streets. A picnic in the shady park before dropping back to Kastorio, where we bought coffees and phoned Mum to thank her for the mail. Returning, we took a slightly shorter but harder route, using the part-dirt road found yesterday, through Logastra, which brought us out in Magoula very near the campsite avoiding Sparta. A good way to come.

We did another insurance enquiry to Saga, now we have their address; bought 10 raffle tickets from the CTC; and opened the packet of mail from Arundel Drive. There were the usual bank, Vodafone and Turners statements, but nothing about new tenants (an Email in April had told us the others were leaving on 9 May). Personal letters/cards from Daphne in S Africa, Jeff Mason, Bill & Ruby Johnson in W Australia, and a super packet from Barney & June in Morocco with lots of cuttings from the 'Guardian' and elsewhere.

Into Sparta on Alf, who has a broken spoke. We left him with the Yamaha agent for a couple of hours while we posted our mail (to Saga and the CTC), checked the price of digital camera smart-cards (much more than getting one mail-order from the UK), and bought a couple of brackets to improve our cab-door security (well, actually the nice Greek ironmonger gave them to us free of charge - there are 2 kinds of Greeks, those bearing gifts and those to beware of). Got a good OS-type map with contour lines of the Taigetos range, from a lovely photographer's, the old-fashioned sort with supplies for taking slides, b&w film, developing, etc (his son runs Sparta's alpine club). No smart cards there! We also had another hour in the Internet place, to check our Emails (just one more in, from Comfort Insurance) and sent replies to Martin & Clare, Bill & Ruby and Karsten & Agata (Globusreiter indeed!) Back at the Yamaha garage, Alf had one new spoke (free of charge) but the owner recommended a complete set of new spokes in both back and front for safety, so we booked him in for Friday morning. The corrosion occurred whilst Alf was in Camping Aginara's salt-water encrusted, unventilated surf-board shed for a year and more.

Back at the campsite, M phoned Turners, where the news wasn't good. The house is empty since 9 May (being advertised, but no takers yet). Mrs Shaw recommended some repainting of the 2 main bedrooms and hall-stairs-landing, and touching up in kitchen and bathroom, and will get a decorator's estimate. At least she has finally got us a refund on the contents insurance which we cancelled (it cost more than the value of our contents!) Also phoned Advantage to order a 64 mb smart card for the camera, then cooled off with a nice swim in the empty pool. Odd neighbours come and go, in tents from Greece, motorhomes from Germany or caravans from Holland, but mostly just stay one night to visit Mystra before heading for the coast. We love the peace.

In which we write, clean and bake on a showery day, while M is attacked by a bee or 2

The weather has now turned much cooler, with cloud obscuring the surrounding mountains and some showers. M worked on updating this diary, with April printed for copying, and baked a carrot cake - in the dark, the microwave lightbulb needs replacing!). B washed the outside windows and cleaned Alf, ready for his operation tomorrow. He wrote a long reply to Barney & June, to be posted with a pile of enclosures to rival theirs - cuttings from the 'Athens News', a copy of our MMM Morocco article, a copy of the 1997 newsletter covering Turkey and a copy of 'Camping Karpouzi' which is now in its final draft. We also wrote a pile of postcads - to Ian & Nina, Charley in NZ, Dick & Audrey in California, Mum, and B's brother Michael on the occasion of his birthday (the twice-yearly exchange of greetings).

M rang Stacey at HSBC Cards to ask about our complaint and was pleased to learn the unauthorised payment is being refunded, with an extra £20 credit to our account to cover phone calls as well. This helped ease the pain of having stepped on a bee in the grass on the way to the phone box, wearing open sandals. It retaliated by stinging her left big toe in 2 places.

We left Alf at the Yamaha garage at 9 am, to have both wheels rebuilt with new spokes and a new sparking plug. The morning soon passed - successfully seeking out a microwave lightbulb and the 'Athens News', photocopying and posting our mail, another hour in the Internet place. We had new Emails from Paul & Genny Walsh (cruising in the Med: Venice, Istanbul, Kusadasi, Athens ...) and a reply from Bill & Ruby Johnson (Australian cyclists), and surfed the web for info on Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Croatia etc. Hungry after all this sedentary exertion, we had lunch at Goody's before collecting Alf and riding him to Lidl, a couple of miles along the Gythion road.

Back at the campsite, M rang Turners again and accepted the decorating quotation provided they could get on with it immediately. Martin & Clare had responded to our Email with a text message giving the address of the NFU (with whom their motorhome is insured), so we directed another insurance query to NFU and wrote a reply to M&C, enclosing 'Camping Karpouzi' and suggesting Martin might like to illustrate it with a cartoon or two before submission to the MMM. He could become their non-resident illustrator! Also wrote to Turners, enclosing a cheque for the decorating and hoping we soon had some new tenants to admire it.

The weather remains unsettled, too risky to go into the mountains on foot or bicycle. We cycled the short distance into Sparta to get fresh bread, then M worked on the diary, up to date at last (5,600 words today), and B gave the bicycles some loving care. Both have shiny new reflectors fitted and are clean, greased and adjusted. We enjoyed listening to the Macca tapes from PBF's internet recording, with fond memories of the best side of Australian life.

Cooler and overcast, but no wind. Decided to cycle the mountain road to the north-east which we motorbiked last Monday, hoping to get beyond Hrisafa, where the thunderstorm turned us back.

A couple of miles to the Hrisafa turning from the Geraki road, then a steady climb of about 1,500 ft for 8 miles, arriving in the village as the church clock chimed 11.30 am. A break in the little square overlooking the steep hillside, where the kids kicked a ball about while their elders were busy below, carrying churns of milk (from sheep or goats) and killing a chicken for the pot.

Then a steeper, hairpinning climb of another 1000 ft or so above the village, past a couple of old churches and the cemetery, and onwards and upwards through scrubland. The sign in Hrisafa had promised 'Agriani, 10 km' but we'd almost given up on there being another village in the rocky treeless mountain wilderness when we rounded a bend and saw a big church with a small collection of white-walled houses arranged below it. Many were abandoned, but not all. We ate our picnic (French pâté sandwiches!) in the shelter of the church wall - the wind was getting up and dark clouds gathered over the mountains, but today there was no storm. We turned for home, mostly an easy downhill freewheel with one last stiff climb as we crossed a gorge.

Rain set in 30 minutes after we got back to the campsite, good timing, as ever on our bicycles.

Rode Alf into Sparta to shop, post letters (to Martin, the NFU, Turners) and collect the 64Mb camera smart-card which had arrived. Checked our Emails (nothing new apart from junk) and bank balances (no payment from HSBC) and searched the web for travel insurance quotes. Found nothing to beat Endsleigh except a cut-price firm (Travel-Insurance-online.com), who doubled the number they first thought of when we phoned. Many firms had a 90-day limit and a penalty for being over 65.

After lunch we set out on Alf to ride the 15 miles up to the Taigetos mountain refuge (at 1550 m), for an alpine walk. As the steep road climbed and twisted its way up from Paleoanagia, Alf got slower and hotter, struggling noticeably on a route he's managed easily in the past.

Eventually, before the end of the bitumen, we stopped to let him cool down, drank our flask of coffee and reluctantly turned back. He spluttered to a halt a couple of times, revived by cleaning the sparking plug of oil and carbon, and we limped back to Sparta. At least we knew a good man!

We left him at the Yamaha Center and got a taxi for the short ride back to Paleologio, where we stuffed and microwaved a nice loin of pork to cheer ourselves up.

M phoned Stacey at HSBC and was assured the credit would appear on our next statement. Also had a swim in the pool. B wrote to Friends Provident (ironic name, that) and replied to Travelbag. We returned to the Yamaha Center to find Alf much improved and declared 80% fit. (To be 100% he'd need an expensive new piston). Xristos's son wouldn't take any money for cleaning out the cylinder and even gave us a litre of good oil - a 'Type A' Greek indeed. All he asked was that we send him a postcard and T-shirt from England when we get back! (But see later!)

Alf was a lot better, back to the campsite, so we took him for another run up the Taigetos (do or die!) This time we made it to the picnic-parking area, from which you can walk up to the Refuge on a marked path (1½ hours) or take a rough 4WD track. Alf and Barry handled the track well, riding it to within 2 km of the Refuge, when it became too eroded after the winter-melt. We parked Alf and walked the rest of the way up to the hut belonging to the Alpine Club of Sparta. From here at 5000 ft the track to the highest point in the Taigetos, Profit Ilias (over 8000 ft), takes 2½ hours each way - we did it once in July, but the peak is in cloud and across snowfields at present. We enjoyed the mountain air, the views, the utter calm and peace, the birdsong in the pine trees, even saw a bunch of processional caterpillars setting out on their life's journey.

Alf excelled himself, running cool and well the whole way back.

Another change in the weather, dark clouds, rain, a thunderstorm crashing overhead in the afternoon. Very glad we're not in the mountains today.

We spent the day reading and word-processing. Wrote to HSBC to thank them, then a letter to Mum (enclosing the April diary, 'Camping Karpouzi', the 'living in a box on wheels' article, Hotel Cecil's leaflet on Sparta, and reply-paid envelopes to HSBC and Travelbag). Nipped into Sparta to post this before lunch.

Then we wrote to Steve Andrews, ordering a pack of water filters to go to Mum's, updated the diary, and wrote to Abbey National. Two tall young Dutch men arrived in the early evening on bicycles and set up their tent alongside at our invitation. We provided them with an outside light and asked them in for coffee. On a 2-week tour of the Peloponnese (after a charter flight to Kalamata), they had ridden from Leonidio, via Kosmas, today - a ride we'd recently completed in 2 days! We were mutually impressed. Both work in Town Planning in Holland and are incredulous of Greece's total lack of it! A rainy night.

Talked more with the Dutch cyclists, Bas (Sebastian) and friend, who are having a rest day to visit Mystra before riding to Kalamata. We were all entertained by the vast Womo (complete with in-house car), firmly stuck in the soft wet ground under the weight of its own pretensions. The Germans, who had studiously ignored us for a week, worked for 2 hours, digging trenches and laying planks to get out. We did enjoy driving off with a wave and without any problem!

Made lunch in Lidl's car park, then headed north out of Sparta, climbing over the Laconia/ Arcadia border to Tripoli. East from there, through empty mountainous terrain into the province of Argolida, then steeply down to the coast and orange groves of the Argolic Gulf. Past ancient Lerna (Neolithic/Bronze Age, settlement since 4000 BC), over the railway line by Mili station and along the shore. At Nea Kios, a couple of miles before Nafplio, we parked by the little fishing harbour, walked round by the boats and makeshift fish market and stayed the night.

79 miles. Free parking.

We drove into Nafplio, parked by the port/railway station (a huge new free car park, built since our last visit), and walked round the attractive city. It was the first capital of modern Greece (1829-34) when the Bavarian Prince Otto became Greece's first (puppet) king, and where Capodistrias, the first Prime Minister, was assassinated by a vengeful Maniot. Between the sea and the fortress-topped headland, it's unusually elegant for a Greek port, with good shops and cafes, especially round Sindagma Square. We found the English bookshop for the 'Athens News', peeked in the Ottoman mosque in the corner of the Plateia (now converted into a little cinema and today entertaining a school party), and were pleased we'd previously explored both castles and the museum, leaving us free to go!

Continuing east via Ligourio, we stopped for lunch at Epidavros in the enormous coach/car park by the stunning ancient theatre and Sanctuary of Asclepius: one of the major tourist sites in the Peloponnese (again, glad we'd already visited it, in the quiet of winter and before entrance reached e6.00). We drove on to the coast at Palea Epidavros to check out the 4 seasonal campsites along its stony beach. Access was difficult, down a very narrow lane between orange groves and across a ford, but we found a place on the largest of the campings. Disappointed - it was overpriced and crowded with a coach-load of young Germans in tents - we biked round to check the other sites but they were no better. Nor was there a ferryboat to the island of Aegina (as promised in our brand new Cadogan Guide to the Greek Islands!) The Port Policeman explained it stopped running 2 years ago, due to lack of custom - this will come as a surprise to the tourist office in Nafplio, just 20 miles away, who had told us it ran 2 or 3 times a week!

At least we got a few free oranges.

32 miles. £12.14 inc elec.

After packing a picnic, Alf was reluctant to set off. Checking him over, B found the new sparking plug, supplied by the Yamaha Center in Sparta, was the wrong one. Luckily the Shell garage in the little port of P-Epidavros had the right one - so we bought 2.

The road SE to Galatas was mountainous and tortuous, a very slow but scenic 30 miles. The island of Poros is separated by just 350 m of water and we took the landing-craft across with Alf. Ate our lunch on the waterfront at Poros and checked on ferries, which do run from here: to Methana-Aegina-Pireus or to Hydra-Spetses (the Argo-Saronic ports). The Flying Dolphin catamarans don't take cycles or motorbikes but less frequent, slower cheaper ferry boats do.

Back to the mainland and over the headland to follow the south coast of the peninsula. Had an interesting episode with a Ford pick-up driver who got our usual signals when he passed us much too close. He replied in Greek over his loudspeaker system - the one he uses to sell his Karpouzis and Aginaras round the villages! We stopped in the first village, Thermisia, for petrol. Past the first (and only) campsite all day, Hydra's Wave, and on to Ermioni, where we were invited to the junior school painting exhibition by the artists! But it was now after 6 pm and rain threatened so we headed back to Kranidi and north on the faster main road, climbing up high past Didima and its caves (which we must visit), eventually dropping down to our coast.

Late back, ready to eat and rest, but the campsite restaurant and the neighbouring hotel had other ideas for Saturday night: fireworks, amplified Greek music till the early hours... Tomorrow we leave.