Judit and I have been lucky enough to visit quite a few countries between us. But neither of us had been to Greece. It was therefore a pleasant surprise to be invited to stay in a villa in the Peloponnese for one week in June 2008. We checked out the air lines and the railways but neither was a viable option. It would mean arriving at Athens and then driving for 5 hours to the villa. The obvious and best solution would be to drive all the way. That way we could see a bit more of Romania and Bulgaria on the way.

The following notes are an account of the journey and our impressions, good or bad. We were also trying out our new Garmin Nuvi 250W satellite navigation system. I was afraid that my knowledge of Bulgarian Cyrillic characters followed by Greek characters would hurt my head. The SatNav doing it in "English" would be a blessing. It turned out that almost every sign in Greece is matched with another in Roman characters.

We started from Budapest, where we live, and headed south towards Szeged. From there we crossed the border into Romania. Even though it was about noon, the plan was to stop at a campsite in Timisoara. All references on the internet said that it was the best campsite in Romania. Well, it might be, but we could not find it. Plus there was so much traffic that we got shoved along through miles of road works into another direction altogether.

Therefore, we just carried on. Past the small town of Lugoj, which to a Yorkshireman sounds like lug'oil, and just kept heading south. From then on the roads got worse and worse. The EU (that's you and me) are paying these people to repair their roads. But they are just wasting money and time. For example, a team goes ahead of the main road works and replaces a culvert under the road. But they don't smooth over their work because the road works will eventually catch them up some months later. It is quite a whack when you run over one of those. No doubt in 20 years the road repair team will get there.

As it was, in 90 kilometres of non-stop road works (yes 90 km!) we saw only 2 or 3 teams doing any work. The rest of the road was dug up one side and the other side just dust and rubble. As I mentioned, the EU are paying for it, yet the Romanians, and the Bulgarians, have the cheek to charge us a Road Tax when we enter the country. If I thought it would help I would tell the border guards that I've paid already. But I'm not that crazy.

At about 20.00 we arrived at a place near the Danube called Baile Herculane, roughly translated as Hercules Bath or Spa. It's an old spa town like Harrogate but steadily crumbling away. The only similarity nowadays is the smell of the water. In fact Hercules wins on that point.

The setting is quite nice so thousands of Romanians flock there for a weekend of dipping in smelly water. It really stinks of rotten eggs and vegetables. It's like being in a lift with a vegetarian! The whole town stinks. It took me 2 days to get the smell out of my head.

But we camped there because there was little other opportunity. Romanians and Bulgarians have a different definition of camping. They go off to sites in the countryside which have little wooden sheds. That is camping. So our tent could be found between 2 sheds. But the natives were friendly and we got offered some local palinka and wine by a neighbouring "camper". The man-of-the-hut worked for the Romanian railway and had a pass for 3 months every year to anywhere in Europe. Amazing.

A tour of the town is worthwhile as there are many very grand old buildings dating back to the time when various Kaisers favoured it. But they are crumbling and it does pong.

The following morning we drove past Turnu Severin on the North bank of the Danube. There is a massive dam with two gigantic locks. A most amazing sight. Another wonder was the mass of plastic bottles piled up against the dam wall. Not surprising really, as the Romanians seem to think that the roadside is a rubbish dump. Many times we would see bottles being slung from car windows ... some of the bottles made of glass!

Around 11.00 we arrived at Calafat to catch the ferry into Bulgaria. Some enterprising Romanian lads said they would show us where the cars queue for the ferry. This meant passing all the parked lorries. As this is a fairly normal procedure at any border the lads were a bit peeved when I refused to give them a reward.

Leaving Romania was no real hassle except for the state of the toilets (low type). The border authorities were quite friendly and helpful while we waited for the ferry to cross from Vidin. Much, much better than the memories of the crossing at Ruse a couple of years ago.

After about 90 minutes the ferry arrived and we were squeezed between a couple of lorries. The Bulgarian side was reasonably OK, except we had to pay more taxes, to pay again for what the EU were giving them. If I was heading the EU I would explain very clearly to the so-called authorities of Eastern Europe that EU citizens must not be charged. If they are charged, then any EU grants will be removed. It's not a difficult problem and I blame the EU for lack of guts.

It's not a lot of money you have to hand over. The problem is that one man in one tiny little box is writing out the paperwork for each and every vehicle. At a relatively quiet crossing, like the ferry, the time wasted is probably just 30 minutes. At other borders it takes hours.

We had a long run that day. South through Montana, Around the Sofia Ring Road which was pretty awful at rush hour. It looks like everyone is building offices and stores alongside the ring road. But the ring road is not finished. In fact in parts it looks like it is not started. Other than the ring road, the Bulgarian roads were in pretty good nick.

We would have liked to camp in the area but our maps were out of date and we could not find a site. So we kept going South towards Blagoevgrad. But after another hour or so we turned East towards Rilska (or Rila).

Here is a great campsite at the side of a white water river, in a forest clearing, with a bar and a barbecue. It was quite a shock when we opened the car doors as the sound of the river was like an English Electric Lightning on reheat.

To be honest the facilities were primitive, but the taps ran all day long, the toilet (low type) was on permanent flush and the sound from the river was deafening. But it was great and we received a very warm welcome as the first guests of the season. I think we were the very first guests. Kristina, the 10 year old daughter, hated the camp dog Nora, even though Nora was a real sweetie.

We spent 2 nights there because we visited the famous Rila Monastery. Very impressive. For me the low-light was stepping from the Defender (Ian's Land Rover vehicle) onto the car park surface. Hundreds of different size stone slabs, set at every angle with 3 inch cracks between them. I twisted/bruised my foot. That was to irritate me for the whole holiday. I suppose I could complain to the head of the Greek Orthodox Church ... but maybe not.

The SatNav was certainly showing us where we were in Romania and Bulgaria, even though the Eastern European maps were just main roads. Interestingly, when we turned off the main road for Rila Monastery the road which did not exist on the screen suddenly appeared. Does this mean that the roads are there but you have to buy a "detailed" map for them to show on the screen?

Onward into Greece. Up to now the Garmin Nuvi 250W SatNav had been a blessing. Although the roads were few and far between on the map it worked perfectly. In Western Europe it will take you from door to door amazingly accurately. Because Eastern Europe SatNav maps are pretty basic I had bought a Greek SatNav map.

I wanted to go from the northern Greek border to a lake about 30 km West. The "Fastest" route on the SatNav said I should go South to Thessalonika and then North to the lake. A round trip of 175 km. Strangely the "Shortest" route was the same. This strange behaviour of the Greek map was to amuse us many times during our holiday.

Unlike many motorists, we ignored the SatNav and set off in the direction of Kerkinis Lake the old-fashioned way ... by eye. To our amazement, as soon as we got off the main road the SatNav immediately recognised where we wanted to go. Strange.

We even found the plot of land where Margaret and Barry had spent a night but, being midday, we settled for a drink from the refreshment stall, or Kantina as the locals call it.

Onward through our first Greek hills. It was a long run down towards Thessalonika, past miles of paddy fields growing rice. Finally we hit the motorway that would take us West. This new motorway was almost excellent. I say "almost" because the planners had forgotten to put in any Service Stations, Filling Stations, Toilets or Lay-Bys. Luckily we had a full tank and a Defender tank can take you around 500 miles. But pity any poor soul who did not know. We drove on the motorway the distance from London to Leeds without a single stopping place. Probably 25% of this was uphill in one long drag.

The motorway eventually just stopped near Grevena and we made our way South towards Kalambaka to visit the sites of Meteora. But first a nice meal, a hot shower and a few cool beers at the first real campsite of the holiday. Camping Vrachos in Kastraki.

If we were reviewing campsites I think this place deserved a good 8 out of 10. Clean, and tidy, places to sit if it rained (it did rain), a restaurant, free barbecue areas and free gas stoves. We even got a free book about Greece and an icon painting, when we left.

We stayed 2 nights at Meteora because we needed a full day to appreciate the wonderful monasteries on mountain tops. I'm no church-goer, but these things did warm my heart. Amazing old buildings placed in the most unbelievable positions on the mountain cliffs. Seeing is believing.

It was the sights of Meteora that made me realise the Greeks are crazy about churches. There seems to be a church every few miles down the road. Some are on mountain tops, some on islands in the sea, some in the middle of forests and others sprinkled around to fill the gaps. Every 20 miles or so is a sign to a monastery. To fill in the smaller gaps there are thousands of "model" churches placed at the side of roads. Probably every kilometre or so.

After viewing the wonders of Meteora we headed West to Ioannina over the Pindos mountain range; 6,000 feet plus. The climb made my trusty Defender puff a bit. What with less air at altitude, plus less air because it was hot, the old turbo was really struggling. We stopped at Metsovo to walk around a very pleasant mountain town. The local church was worth a visit and we were surprised to find the floor covered in bay leaves. But my Greek was not quite up to asking why.

The SatNav had given us fun on the mountain passes. At one point it directed us to turn left onto a non-existent road that would have taken us 1,000 feet to the valley bottom! At another point it wanted us to enter a motorway. But the motorway was about 500 feet below us in a tunnel. Even in Ioannina, it wanted us to swap sides on a dual carriageway ... we resisted the temptation.

Ioannina was very hot after the relatively cool mountains. We also had a warm welcome from the receptionist at the campsite. She spoke perfect English and gave us lots of advice. The campsite was suspiciously like the overflow parking area for the Ioannina lake rowing club. By the time you had walked to the toilet and back it was time to go again. But it was clean enough and luckily had high-types. Twice a day we had the thrill of being buzzed by aircraft on final approach to the local airport.

It rained during the night and because of the poor drainage we were soaked, but the morning sun soon dried us out.

Ioannina has a pleasant old castle with Turkish remains. It was also our first real Greek town. Here were the street cafes and eateries. I was quite surprised at the luxury of some of them, clearly frequented by the local posing set. But further along the street was the real thing, selling real food at a quarter of the price. Excellent.

Our first stop on the way South was to look at Dodoni amphitheatre and pile of rocks. I received a not very hospitable tongue lashing for daring to enter the amphitheatre. The young graduate archaeologist was very angry that we were disturbing the team's efforts. In reality, out of 20 young students only the workman on the crane seemed to be doing anything. And I paid 6 Euro for that.

Then to Arta to visit the old castle and an ancient bridge. Well worth a break from driving. Shortly after Arta we came to the sea for the first time before heading back inland towards the new bridge at Patra. The plan was to stop at a campsite on the North shore of the Gulf of Corinth. This time I should have listened to the SatNav because we found ourselves on the bridge itself. After that, road signs were very confusing and we were soon heading the wrong way towards Athens. At a toll both I checked with a fairly official looking man (he had a clipboard) and we were told it was OK to do a U-turn on the motorway just before the toll booth, so that we would be going the direction we really wanted.

This time the SatNav was perfect and found one of the campsites I had entered into the memory before starting the journey. The benefit of the Garmin was the ability to upload (or is it download?) points of interest, or POI, from the internet. The camp was Kato Alissos Camping (high type). Although not easy to find without a SatNav it was quiet, peaceful and well appointed. A nice shower and a cool beer from the camp shop made a pleasant evening. The special attraction was a 1,000 year old olive tree whose branches provide welcome shade.

Greek beer is either Alpha or Mythos. According to the locals, the big breweries had muscled in and killed off the other Greek beers. In protest I always resisted the Heineken and Amstel.

Next, the big day. We were going to Olympia. Another highlight was when the lady at the cash desk told us "Today is free." I have no idea why she was in the cash desk, but we were grateful. In fact, why do they need a cash desk if entry is free? Olympus was really very interesting, especially after seeing parts of it on TV when the Tibetans made their protest.

On the small roads heading South we visited another archaeological site a long way up a steep dirt road. That's what Defenders are for. The site was so tiny that it really did not deserve a signpost. But the road up the hillside was lovely.

Kyparissia Camping was the stop for the night. This time the SatNav excelled itself. The map even showed the "streets" inside the campsite. Nice place, scruffy beach, scruffy little working harbour. Not bad at all. But it rained again. However we were dry before we had finished our breakfast.

It may seem at this point that we were just rising, driving and sleeping. That's not quite true. However, we did have a very strict appointment at Kalamata airport. We had to meet our friends from their plane from Yorkshire.

Shortly after leaving Kyparissia we saw 2 amazing sights: a rather stupid Walt Disney type castle at Agrilos. White and pink and standing out like a "pork chop in a ... etc". Further down the road at Filiatra was a 30 metre tall copy of the Eiffel Tower. There were no notices explaining why.

Judit insisted on visiting Nestor's Palace. This turned out to be a 2-dimensional pile of mud bricks costing 8 Euro. If you are an archaeologist, it may be interesting but I am not enthralled by 2 feet high mud walls. The highlight for me was a donkey quietly finding his way home and ignoring all modern forms of transport ... lovely.

Pylos was next, but that didn't appeal either. It seemed to cater for the "nouveau riche" who had just moved out from Western Europe. Those who know me will also know that my hackles rise when I meet that type of person. So we moved on to Finikes Camping (in Finikounda). Barry and Margaret mention it so many times and we understood why. We had a very warm welcome, permission to use the small English language library, a key to our own toilet (high type) and any information we could possibly need. In addition to that, the place was quiet and the staff were delightfully helpful and friendly. Rating: 9 out of 10. Nobody gets 10.

We spent 2 nights here. Bit of swimming, bit of eating, drinking and generally relaxing. Nearby was the small town of Methoni with a magnificent castle. Once again, free entry. Fabulous setting.

Sunday morning and time to head for Kalamata airport to meet friends Pat and Mike. Then it was South down the middle finger of the Peloponnese to the tiny village of Rigklia near Stoupa (in the Mani Peninsula). The road was fantastic. One of the most picturesque we had come across.

Pat and Mike had the use of an English friend's house. Very nice it was too. We even had a small pool. Thus started a week of lazing around, eating, drinking and generally getting brown. One evening we saw what appeared to be a firework falling into the olive groves a couple of miles away. It was a brilliant white light. Next night we were looking out to sea and another brilliant light sped across the sky. It followed an almost horizontal path and covered an angle of some 80 or 90 degrees, and took several seconds to pass before dying out. It was clearly a "shooting star" but the biggest and brightest any of us had ever seen. Probably the previous nights "firework" was the same sort of thing.

We had a couple of rides out to the local area but generally we just relaxed. One journey was South, down the finger of the Mani to visit the tower village of Vathia. On the way back we stopped at Areopolis. What a lovely little town. We noticed a good crowd outside a souvlaki restaurant. That's always a good sign so we entered and found a table. The lighting was low, there was smoke in the air from the massive charcoal grill and the radio was gently playing Greek music. But best of all, the Chef was singing away at the top of his voice, fag in mouth, chest covered in a vest while he turned the souvlaki. For some reason I thought that he may be preparing chicken or pork kebabs, so I asked. The chef's wife did not speak English so I had to do the old wing flapping or grunting routine. With a cheeky grin she said one word: "Pig".

And very nice it was too.

The restaurants in Stoupa were very good. Probably the most interesting was one that we called the Pork Butcher. A whole pig, roasting away quietly. On ordering pork, we had a large sheet of greaseproof paper placed in the middle of the table. Then came the carved and chopped bits of meat and crackling. Fingers not forks. Greaseproof paper not plates. A very tasty and memorable meal.

One evening I decided I would show Mike how good the SatNav was. I asked it to take me from the house to the village one kilometre South. True to form, the Greek map took me 5 km West, 3 km North, 6 km East and 5 km back towards our villa before heading off to the destination. Don't ask!

It was in Rigklia that I noticed the loss of water from the Defender's cooling system, plus an ominous splodge of oil on the concrete under the gearbox. Along with the twisted foot, they were to become a feature of the holiday.

The water problem was easy to diagnose but not cure. The plastic header tank had a split along the seam. The oil was more difficult to diagnose because it was splattered everywhere under the Defender. I eventually made a guess at the O-ring (oil-seal) at the front of the transfer gearbox. A visit to a local garage got no real response, so I topped up the water and prayed that there would still be some oil in the gearbox.

After one week we left our little paradise and took Pat and Mike back to Kalamata. From there we headed East for Sparti (Sparta). If the other mountain road was picturesque, this one was dramatic with hairpin bends and deep valleys, plus tunnels through the cliff face. In addition we were able to see the destructive effects of last year's forest fires. Around us were blackened mountain tops for mile after mile.

The road eventually put us at the top entrance to the ruins of Mystras. This is very dramatic. Fantastic views over the plain and town of Sparti. We spent most of the day exploring Mystras and it was well worth it. (You see, I am not a total Philistine.) In the late afternoon we found another of my pre-selected campsites, behind the KMOil filling station. Clean and tidy, with its own swimming pool frequented by the locals.

After a peaceful, if hot, night we started our Northern journey. First Tripoli, then the ancient site of Mykines (Mycenae) before driving through Argos and Nafplio towards Kastraki Campsite at Tolo.

The ancient Greeks had some very bright guys. Euclid, Archimedes, Aristotle, Pythagorus, etc. Yet when the Greeks found the massive stones in the walls of Mykines they said that a giant with one eye in the middle of his forehead, Cyclops, must have built the wall. What were these guys smoking ... Moroccan Woodbines?

On entering Nafplio we saw a sign for the Land Rover dealers. They were closed but we "understood" from a local that they would be open in the morning.

Kastraki Camping was in a lovely setting, right on the beach. But it was let down with strange bureaucracy, no paper in the toilets, no toilet seats and, strangest of all, a charge of 20 cents to use the shower. Not to use the hot water, just to use the shower. I found one that dribbled cold water for free and that was OK for me.

This was the most disappointing campsite of the whole journey. Pleasant but ruined by lack of enthusiasm. We were watching the European football on the TV one evening when the bar-tender told us to turn it off when we left because he was going to see his girlfriend. He was a bit peeved when I demanded a beer before he left. You know the sort of thing: bottle banged down on the bar followed by a sideways look when I asked for a beer mat. At least I enjoyed the moment.

We returned to the Land Rover dealer at Nafplio at 09.00 to be told that it was shut down. Clearly we had not "understood". So we made our way to a Suzuki garage. The nice boss was helpful but not keen on having a scruffy old Land Rover on his forecourt, so he called in a couple of lads from a local garage. They were based in the village of Lalouka a few kilometres away and they were amazingly kind, generous and friendly. They were also very efficient and found a scrap header tank from an old Ford Escort to replace the leaking Defender tank. They were unable to sort out the O-ring but topped up the oil for us. Spending a whole day in a service station was not to Judit's liking.

That evening we roamed around Nafplio but soon found it to be frequented by the posers of this world. The day before I had bought a pair of those dumpy plastic "beach sandals" that have become so popular. I think they are called Crocs. They cost me 4 Euro. But in Nafplio they were on sale for 44 Euro. Needless to say we moved on sharpish and found a restaurant near the campsite, where we enjoyed a sunset meal at good value for money.

On our journey towards the Corinth Canal we saw our first road accident. A truck had managed to topple over on a corner spilling his load. It was surprising to be the first accident because the Romanians, Bulgarians and Greeks only know one position for the gas pedal ... flat to the floor. I am sure that the politicians of this world should be taxing these people for wasting fuel, NOT the law-abiding people like me.

I will digress a moment to point out that not everyone who drives a 4x4 is an idiot and poser. The "gay 4x4's" may be gas-guzzling their way through Chelsea. But on our journey we were going up mountain passes in low gears almost every day, yet the Defender returned a fuel consumption of 39 mpg. That's about 8.5 litres per 100 km. Not bad for an old diesel that spends most of its time off-road and is as aerodynamic as a kitchen cabinet. Remember that, when you are stuck in a flood or a snowdrift and a Defender comes to your aid. You will be asked if you like 4x4's. A wrong answer could be fatal!

The Corinth Canal is surprisingly short at 6 km. But it looks even shorter as you can see both ends from a road bridge. It is an amazing sight to see quite large vessels taking the shortcut and saving a 200 km round trip.

After a bite to eat we headed towards Athens before turning North towards Thiva (Thebes). Every overloaded truck in the world seemed to be struggling up the mountain roads, eventually turning off to use the motorway while we used the old road to go to Delphi. The Defender was also struggling again with altitude and high temperatures and it took ages for the turbo to have any effect.

The SatNav again had a laugh with us. I checked for the shortest route to Delphi. It wanted me to go back to Corinth, along the southern shore of the Gulf, over the Patra bridge, along the North shore of the Gulf and arrive at Delphi; a distance of 300 km. We decided that the direct road of 70 km would be better.

On that road we found another Kantina and stopped for a cool drink. It was the only time I felt under threat. Two local lads started pestering us for some money. "Hey rich, give me money." That was fairly blunt, so being a good Yorkshireman I gave them a lesson in bluntness. Nevertheless it was an uncomfortable moment.

Delphi was probably the highlight of the trip from my archaeological point of view. A most beautiful setting with a wonderful museum. Visit it.

However, Delphi Camping was not the best. Yes, it was clean and tidy, even hair- driers in the toilets. Yes, we had the most amazing view from our tent. It was a panorama to die for. But it was a very long walk to the toilets (high type).

Worst of all, the campsite catered for parties. They had a coach load of German students in when we visited. They were not hooligans, but German seems to be one of those languages that cannot be spoken quietly. It was the noisiest campsite we visited and the first time we used our trusty earplugs. Singing "Deutschland Uber Alles" in a Greek campsite seems to lack a certain taste and understanding of recent history.

Our recommendation is to miss this campsite if at all possible. We were told that in July and August they have 6 parties, all at the same time.

Delphi was memorable for another reason ... the hot wind. The temperature was 44 Celsius, and the wind made it worse. Quite amazing. I have only felt wind like that in Baghdad when it was 50 Celsius.

Greek food is very good. Greek street food is great. Even though there are very few stops on motorways, enterprising caterers have set up caravans on parallel roads next to the motorway fence. We had a memorable 'gyros' on the motorway heading North after Delphi.

Mindful of the gearbox problem I did not want to hang about. It was dripping even if we were standing still. So we found ourselves just south of Thessalonika at Agiannis Camping. This was the real Greek experience. People had permanent caravans on site. Some had gazeboes, lawns and bathrooms. At first glance it was untidy, but in reality it was well organised, It had a pool and a very well stocked bar where we watched one of the Euro 2008 football matches. The pool is on top of a sand cliff and the pool surround is already leaning towards the sea. It may not be there next year if the cliff erodes further.

In the camp was a party of female American teenage churchgoers. They were quite upset about the toilet facilities (high type) but in reality the place was worth a good 7 points.

Now it was time to head home. But first we found a garage and the guys there had an O-ring. On fitting it they said that there was a large space for the O-ring, so they fitted the old one and the new one side by side. It seems to have done the trick.

We skirted Thessalonika, stopped for a very mediocre 'gyros' in Serres and then to the Bulgarian border. In a temperature of 45 degrees we pushed our way through the border. We had to get a bit stroppy with a few Bulgarians, who seemed to think that they could drive to the front of the queue. Judit lost her rag and got out of the Defender and stood in front of them all. Meanwhile I expected a bash on the nose. Luckily my Bronze God appearance must have put them off!

It took 2 hours to pass into a fellow EU country. That's what we are all paying for.

We wanted to get to the North of Bulgaria but the messing around at the border and the heat made us stop off at Rila Campsite again, where we were met with great warmth by the family. A wonderful cool evening with fresh trout, chips and a salad for dinner. A glass or two of Bulgarian beer helped to wash it down. We were pleasantly surprised to be given a free short drink that is a local speciality. It's the nearest thing to Creme de Menthe. It had a green colour with silvery flakes in suspension. Very good.

The next leg of the journey turned into a long distance rally. We drove all the way back to Budapest. It took us 19 hours and we arrived home at 04.00.

Was it all worth it? Yes. Every minute.

Should you buy a SatNav? Yes.

Should you buy the Greek map? No.

Were campsites good? Yes, apart from a few gripes.

Would we go again? Definitely Yes.

Google Map of Greece showing the route and the campsites that were used.
At the Rila Monastery in Southwest Bulgaria, between Sofia and the Greek border.
Ag Nikolaos, one of the amazing Meteroa Monasteries.
Ian at Meteora, in one of the six Monasteries open to the public.
Judit enjoys a Greek Salad.
A Greek Idyll - while the road waits patiently in the background
A Venetian Fortress in Greece: remnant of a forgotten empire.
The souvlaki chef in the kitchen of a Greek taverna.
Waiting for customers at a Greek fish taverna.
On the walls of the Byzantine fortress at Mystra, high above the Spartan plain.
Greek grasshopper with an inquisitive expression.
The view over part of the site of Ancient Delphi.