Peloponnese Part III: Nafplio

One of the really excellent things about heading to the port town of Nafplio is its proximity to the ruins around it. This region was one of the most prolific building sites for the Mycenaean civilisation, and it was possible to view a number of their palaces scattered around the landscape, the most famous of course being that of Mycenae. Several kilometres from the town of Nafplio we happened across the archaeological site of Tiryns, another of the Mycenaean palaces. Almost unknown to tourists, we found it empty and wandered it at will.

The defensive walls were amazing, something noted even in the ancient world, as the first reference to this city is from Homer, with his mention of 'mighty walled Tiryns'. It was said that the hill fort was built by giants, for surely only they could lift such huge blocks. This beautiful site narrowly escaped destruction when Heinrich Schliemann (curse his name!) decided most of the visible structures were medieval and thus useless, and began digging through them in the hopes of finding Mycenaean treasure. Luckily he soon lost interest and went off to plunder Mycenae instead.

Feeling hot and hungry, we headed for the town of Nafplio in search of lunch.
Things never happen the same way twice, and the town was like I remembered but not at the same time. Last time I had been here was with my friend Shyla back in 2014, and we had found the town to be one of our favourites in all our travels. We had dined on Gyros and chilled red wine, and lengthened our stay here simply to enjoy ourselves longer.
Gyros or Gyro is a traditional Greek street food involving rotisserie pork or chicken wrapped in a flatbread with tzatziki and salad. It sounds simple but there was something utterly delicious about them and I had become quite addicted. Due to the ease in which we had found them everywhere last time, I was expecting to soon be dining on them for lunch, but to my disappointment I couldn't find a single place still serving them!
After finding the waterfront restaurants lacking, we ended up in an alleyway for lunch with the most lovely owners who refused to speak anything but French to us! The food was to absolutely die for, including plates of dips and delicious stuffed tomatoes. It was some of the best fare we had in all of Greece. Everything sounded delicious and we ended up getting far too much, not helped by the fact that the owner ordered half of it for us, deciding what we should eat. It left us with little chance of getting a word in, but was very amusing and meant we were getting to try the best they could offer!




















Feeling very full and relaxed after wandering the town a bit more we were planning to head to the famous site of Mycenae which I had of course been to before, but it was so singular I wanted to see it again, and dad had never been. We had planned to only stay the afternoon and drive further on that day to give us less ground to cover, needing to be in Athens for the ferry the afternoon after and not wanting to do the whole drive in one go. However Nafplio was so lovely and there were so many ruins to see around we decided to bite the bullet and stay.
Thus as afternoon hit, we headed for the site of Mycenae ready to tackle more ruins.

Having discussed this site in a much earlier post, I will not do so again, only say that this time it was far less touristy and much quieter than the last time I had visited (a trend I noticed throughout Greece) and we enjoyed it without the crowds. Lions Gate was as impressive as ever, and dwarfed dad with its monumental architecture.


Feeling tired but pleased with our day, we headed back to Nafplio late in the evening, and were just in time to sit by the waterfront with a well-deserved beer and watch the sun go down.
















The next day we headed for Athens, but made a brief stop in Corinth, mainly so I could see the famous canal which I had always wanted to visit. Cutting through the isthmus of Corinth to connect the Gulf of Corinth with the Saronic Gulf, it separates the Peloponnese from the mainland. A long thought out idea, it was begun in the 7th century BC, however was quickly aborted and although many attempts were made over the years, it did not properly begin construction until the late 1800s. Extremely narrow, it can now no longer fit modern ships and thus was quiet and clearly barely used these days, though dad said he could remember in his own travels when it had been a more main transport route, and seen more use. With very little time to spare, we soon headed off to catch our ferry to Crete, ready to meet up with Yannick and Necia and continue our grand adventure!

Peloponnese Part II: Ruins and Waterfalls

July 2016

Heading for the coast, we soon found a beach by a pine forest (the camping there looked like they had a fantastic spot) and we were happily able to get our daily swim in, as we had missed it the day before.
We then headed inland, heading for the Neda falls, which I had seen pictures of for years and desperately wanted to see with my own eyes. As always with the Peloponnese, these waterfalls owed their name to myth. Neda was one of the nymphs that was said to have nursed the baby Zeus, helping to hide him from his crazy baby-eating father Kronos. The falls were extremely difficult to get to, involving some rather questionable although scenic off-roading where we wondered more than once if the car would manage to make it back up the steep loose gravel roads.

Going was slow, and we almost turned back a number of times, but stubbornness prevailed. Finally we parked only to discover the falls were a hard 2.5 walk away, up the mountain on little more than a goat path. Bathing suits and towel at the ready, we began to clamber up the path, dripping in the sweltering 38 degree heat. My unsuitable jandals soon proved to be a total annoyance and so, channeling my kiwi spirit, I scrambled the rest of the way bare-foot, Hobbit style.
We reached a lower waterfall and stood wondering if this was it, when a lovely local came up to us and told us the way up, telling us to please, please go, as it was too beautiful to miss. He also warned us of the slippery bridge so that we took care, and whistled when we were halfway up to get us to turn the correct way as there was no signposting. I am in love with the kindness and pride that the Greeks take in their own country.




















At last we saw it. Roaring pale blue waters, with only a few people braving the icy cold water to swim. Having made it this far I of course had to take a dip! I swam right up to the falls and stuck my head under the roaring falling water, but didn't stay there long as it was somewhat terrifying with the hole just behind and I couldn't help but think of being sucked in or grabbed by something! The pressure of the water hitting my head and the noise was simply incredible, and it was utterly worth the effort to get there. (Thanks dad for humouring my desire to see the falls and obligingly taking photos!)

After the falls, exhausted and my legs physically shaking, we headed down and towards the Temple of Apollo Epikourios, a UNESCO world heritage site. Designed by Iktinos (the same dude who planned the Parthenon) it stood proudly on the steep slopes of a mountain. It must have been magnificent to behold as ancient Greeks toiled up the steep path to leave their offerings and prayers. However our own sight of it was rather different as for the last decade it has been covered by a huge tent in an effort of preservation, as the foundations were beginning to collapse from run-off rainwater. Although apparently not a permanent solution, the tent had been there for over a decade, so obviously other preservation ideas are slow in the making.


Inside it was extremely striking, even with all the scaffolding. It was a far cry from the Parthenon with its throngs of people, here we walked in silence, the only ones to see its wonder.
The site was long forgotten and left to ruin, until it was noticed in the 1700s by a French architect, however when he went for a second look he was - quite unfortunately-  murdered by bandits. Later British excavations ended in their usual way - shameless plundering with all the friezes hacked off and sent to the British museum (where you can still see them to this day!)
 As well as walking around the temple structure there was also an informative video on the restoration work. They used enormous cranes to carefully lift entire columns up in the air to move and restore the base beneath them before lowering it back. The precision involved and watching those enormous pillars slowly swinging upwards was horrifically nerve-wracking to watch!

It was late in the day and we still had no accomodation, so we headed off in the general direction of some medieval villages we wanted to visit, hoping to find somewhere to stay along the way.  we made a quick stop in pretty Andritsena to admire it, before deciding we could push on just a little further. We stopped at a medieval town called Karytaina, hoping we would be able to find something there. Built on a hill, the stone houses tumbled down from a castle perched at the top. It was extremely pretty and felt more Italian than Greek. 

There was a single sign in the village proclaiming rooms, so we went and rang the bell and sure enough, a friendly Greek lady soon had us comfortably situated in little rooms. 

Having had a long day, we soon retired for the night, set to explore the little town in the morning. We weren't disappointed, as the little cobblestoned streets winding their way through the village were simply gorgeous. 

However our stomachs were protesting, so we went to the village cafe which was run by the mother of the owner of our rooms the night before. Their menu was limited, but we ended up with fresh orange juice and coffee and a toasted sandwich each - which was strangely enjoyable for breakfast. The mum was a lovely elderly lady who spoke only very broken english, but strived valiantly to exclaim to me 'Chocolate! Chocolate skin! Chocolate! Beautiful!' whilst pointing at my arms. I felt rather flattered by her enthusiasm for my tan. 

We soon headed off for the other little medieval towns around, making quick stops in Stemnitsa and a few other little towns, wending our way through old Arcadia. Said to be home to the ancient god Pan, the region was green and old and wild, and felt like the relic of a world almost completely lost. Signposts for ruins beckoned on all sides, and I could easily have spent far longer there, exploring the mountains and rivers and ancient sites. 

There were no signs to explain the many ruins we saw, no barriers in place or railings, nothing to lend context to what we were seeing. It felt almost like they had been dug up and then forgotten again, lost to that ongoing struggle of funding in archaeology.
We tarried as long as we could, but new we needed to be making headway that day, so after cooling ourselves down by putting our feet in a nearby river, we headed for the town of Nafplio.

Ancient Olympia and the Peloponnese

July 2016

We regretfully left the islands behind the next morning, heading on a fast ferry to Patras, mainland Greece. The area we would be travelling in is called the Peloponnese, and many Greeks consider it almost separate from the rest of mainland Greece, with its own cultural identity and a history of strong independence . Considered the birthplace of much of Greek mythology, the Peloponnese literally means the island of Pelops - the tragic hero who became king only to have his entire line cursed - the main cause of his infamy - causing terrible grief and strife for his descendants as it was the main reason (due to the unpleasant ancient concept of tisis: divine retribution)) that the Greeks attributed the misery and tragedy of later heroes including Menelaus, Agamemnon and Orestes.

With such important mythological roots, it was interesting to note the feel of the Peloponnese. It felt ancient, full of ruins and forests and mountains. The Mycenaeans flourished and grew from here during the Bronze Age, becoming one of Europe's first complex and major civilizations, thus it was no surprise that as we headed into the mountains we were soon rewarded with numerous signs pointing to archaeological sites. We followed the first one we saw, and ended up at a beautiful Mycenaean settlement, complete with tombs!
 Two lovely Greek caretakers were on site, and seemed very excited to see us, though they spoke no English. There were no other tourists on-site and thus they proceeded to give us a tour of the area, pointing at things, gesticulating their meanings and speaking away at us quite happily in Greek.
 It was a really interesting site and seeing their genuine enthusiasm for the place and their excitement to explain it to us was really special. It was interesting to see that unlike later civilizations, the Mycenaeans did not keep their living and dead separate, instead burying infants and children beneath their floors of their houses (you can see a small infant grave within a living space below). Adults however were buried separately, and I found this distinction interesting.

As always with Greece (though Croatia was worse) the road signs were difficult, and though we followed a few more in search of the tantalizing archaeological sites they promised, we didn't find them. As it was nearing lunch time, we decided to hunt for trout farm we knew was on the way somewhere instead. We ended up searching for far too long, however we did eventually find it! Tired and hungry, we sat ourselves down in the peaceful and idyllic paradise by a rushing stream in a little forest.

Dad was finally able to get his trout, washed down with a lovely white wine. However it was dessert I was more interested in. I'm not a big fan of figs but this one had been almost candied, creating an extremely soft, sweet and syrupy dessert. Delicious.

Late in the afternoon we finally arrived at our intended destination for the night, Olympia. We were feeling very tired and decided to go to the archaeological site the next morning to feel refreshed and hopefully avoid the heat of the day. However our evening was not wasted, as we headed to the archaeological museum which had the items found in the area on display. 

Am I the only one reminded of childhood modelling clay figurines here?

I especially enjoyed this statue, who was probably piously resting on his hand, but looked more like he was having a nice chat on his cellphone. 

After a nice rest at Hotel Kronio, we headed for Olympia. On my last travels in Greece I hadn't managed to get to this famous archaeological site, and so was really looking forward to seeing it. It's main claim to fame is of course as the original site of the Olympic games, however there is so much more to Olympia than that. 

The sanctuary of Olympia is a collection of temples dedicated to a plethora of ancient gods including to Hera and Zeus, as well as a number of treasuries from different city states. The site itself is pretty huge, and includes workshops, a stadium and many other buildings. I however, was most interested in the temple of Zeus, built in the 5th century and known for once holding one of the ancient wonders of the world, an enormous ivory and gold statue of said deity. 

In its ruined state, toppled pillars lying in the grass looking like dominoes pushed over by some careless giant's hand, it was difficult to imagine how it must have once looked. However seeing the size of just the pillars themselves was staggering and gave an idea to the enormous scale this temple must have been built on. 

I could almost imagine the shining statue of Zeus (standing at almost 13 metres tall) seated in his gigantic pillared home, before its eventual destruction. How this architectural masterpiece met its demise is something of a debate, as some records tell that it was carried off to Constantinople, before being destroyed in a great fire. Others claim that it was destroyed along with the temple itself in a fire in 425 AD. Whatever the case (though fire seems definite) no trace or copy of it remains, and we only have ancient descriptions of it to know what it must have once looked like.
Suffering from the heat, we wandered the full extent of the site, before heading for the coast in the hopes of a swim.

Kefalonia Part II: Fishing villages are my new dream home

July 2016

After landing in the port town of Sami, we checked into the little hotel we had prebooked. We only had one night there and then we would be taking the fast ferry to Patras on the mainland.The owner of the hotel was a lovely friendly lady who happily printed our ferry tickets for us, which saved us a lot of trouble.
As we had only an afternoon to explore the northern side of Kefalonia, we headed directly for the town of Assos, which we had seen on our travels in Kefalonia before, but not had the time to stop.

Assos was a lovely little sea-front town that spread across the narrow isthmus of the jutting peninsula. Driving down the steep cliffs to get to the town which lay just at the waters edge gave us beautiful views. Although it was a tiny town, it had apparently once been the capital of Kefalonia, due to the large Venetian fortress up on the cliffs above. The impressive structure was built in the sixteenth century to protect the townsfolk from marauding pirates and invading Turks (these seem to be a common theme in Greek history). One of the largest castles in all of Greece, it could once hold all of the townsfolk, boasting two hundred houses and sixty-five public buildings, though most have now fallen into ruin and and been reclaimed by nature. We soon discovered a wide and beautiful causeway which wound all the way up the cliffs to the castle itself, allowing for lovely views on the beautifully shaded walk. Unfortunately when we reached about half-way, we realised not only was the shade ending and we had no water, but we were running out of time.

The view of a little bay and the village itself from our promenade was enough to convince us it was time for a refreshing dip in the clear sea. I noticed on the beach a german couple who had been on our ferry on our way to Ithaca a few days before, small world! Considering they were speaking German and we had never talked, I simply noted them with amusement and moved onto more important things, like swimming.


As we were short on time, we headed off to the fishing village of Fiskardo, which Lonely Planet had raved about in such glowing terms that I felt we really couldn't miss it. Fiskardo proved to be one of my favourite towns in all of Greece, and I cannot say how glad I am that we visited (if only we had more time and could have returned!) We parked a little back from the town as parking was, as usual, limited and atrocious.
We wandered down to the sea-front, to follow the coastline into the village itself. Our first view of Fiskardo was of strikingly gorgeous waters and brightly painted Venetian houses.

To our right were these incredible waters, and then I turned my head to the left and just along the seaside path were roman tombs! It was like a match made in heaven. Water and bones, what more could one want!

Leaving the tombs behind, we headed into the village itself. A lady on the path had a little stall and was making anklets as I watched, her fingers deft and fast. As I had been looking for one all over since my last one from Capri a few years before had finally fallen totally to pieces, I decided this was a good chance! I hadn't wanted one of the mass produced ones touted at the other shops I had seen, but knowing it would be handmade seemed good enough for me. She didn't have the exact colour and beading I wanted, so she offered for me to return after dinner and she would make the two I would like. My own unique anklets made for me! I happily accepted (though I later ripped the bells off them after driving Yannick and Necia just slightly mad). 

 The village itself was gorgeous, with tonnes of cheery restaurants bustling with people (although not over-crowded) and full of yachts anchored for the night. We passed many beautiful old houses (in dire need of restoration) on our way. Just look at that Juliet balcony!

Very hot, we headed for a drink at an Italian restaurant called 'Cafe Tselenti'  just in from the port, and tucked away in a shaded square. It was much too early for dinner still, but we were craving an ice cold drink, and it looked nice and cool. After sitting ourselves down we realised it was actually one of the places recommended in Lonely Planet, and we would soon find out it was with good reason. The waiter was extremely friendly and seemed to speak every language under the sun, happily slipping into French as soon as dad opened his mouth. We ordered beers and relaxed in the shade, embracing the atmosphere of the bustling village. I even had a cat companion asleep next to me! What more could one ask for. 

 A few beers later, we decided the place was so lovely and we were so comfortable we might as well get dinner there. We hadn't had a different cuisine in a long time, and it looked like a lovely and refreshing change. The restaurant had been owned by the Tselenti family since 1893 without changing hands, so we knew we should be in for some pretty fine cuisine (and we weren't wrong). Our first tip-off that this would be a good night was when the table next to us ordered some kind of starter of meatballs in tomato sauce. The smell coming off the plate was so indescribably delicious that we both looked at each other and said, "we are getting that".
 Smelling that tomato sauce and watching them eat it was almost torture! So for the first time ever, I ordered something simply based off what someone else had ordered - I can't actually describe how phenomenal the smell was. Everything about the dish was just as perfect as it had smelled, down to the delicately flavoured rice - something I wouldn't even be very interested in eating usually.

Everything on the menu sounded delicious, so much so that we decided to simply get two mains and halve them between us so we were able to try two! After much indecision we ordered pork with gooseberry sauce and a deconstructed gyros with beautiful chicken and chips dipped in a delicious sauce. Every single element was fantastic (as was the accompanying rose).
 It wasn't the food that made the evening for me however, nor the gorgeous town itself or the lit up square, it was the ambience. The music that the restaurant played all night, was simply fantastic. The owner had an entire wall of CDs inside the restaurant and was clearly playing DJ for the night. Beautiful classical music floated outside (where we were sitting) and every so often we could see him standing over his wall of CDs, choosing the next one.
I think what really made it for me however, was when I went to the bathroom and noticed on the wall a very old portrait of man - who looked very similar to the owner! It was so clear that they were related, and I wondered if he was the original ancestor who set up the restaurant.

We would have stayed far longer if we could but we had an hour drive back to Sami, and then our 8am ferry in the morning, so we knew it was time to leave. Fiskardo and cafe Tselenti have a special place in my heart, so much so that it's almost one of those places I don't want to go back to, because - as Aslan would say - things never happen the same way twice. 

Ithaca and Odysseus: The Island Behind the Legend

July 2016

Tales of the mysterious and clever warrior king Odysseus from Ithaca had captured my imagination as a child and helped cultivate my curiosity for archaeology. It was an island that was swathed in the poetic mists of time, and somewhere that was firmly on my bucket list. The fact that I was finally heading there had me hopping with excitement (and the nefarious GPS Circe in hysterics).
















Ithaki as it is known to the Greeks consists of two wide parts connected by an isthmus, with very few roads and mountainous enough to make much of it still untouched by civilisation. I am well aware that my own perceptions of the island are coloured by my love for the old stories, but I still hold firm when I say it was perhaps my favorite island out of all the ones I visited, and the one that I would most like to retire to, living on that azure seafront with olive groves behind me and a beautiful kitchen. One can dream right?

Due to its small size, we had booked an airbnb for the town of Vathy, which was a little harbour town built around the sea shore, and was just as cute as it sounded. Officially the capital of this small island since the 16th century, the buildings along the waterfront all had that traditional Venetian style, adding to their charm. Our own little house about a ten minute walk back from the waterfront was also very cute, as were the owners who, being typically Greek ate dinner very late. We discovered this when late one night as we were settling in to sleep I heard a knock on the door and opening it in my pajamas found them on the doorstep giving me homemade apple cake! (it was delicious by the way).


As usual our first priority was to go swimming. We soon discovered a little bay tucked away from the road and surrounded by pine trees. It was a tiny cove and fairly busy, but in the mornings we had it to ourselves, and even during the day there was always space for us.












The archaeology was of course something I was really excited about in Ithaca, so without much delay, we set off to find it all. We had long ago decided by then that if we saw a sign pointing to something archaeological that sounded interesting, we would follow it and see where we ended up. So when we saw a sign for the "School of Homer" I was beyond intrigued.
This dark entrance in the rock was clearly man-made and lead to a darker and longer cavern which I couldn't explore as it fell deeply away into cold water. Maybe it was once a well source?


The site had unfortunately fallen into total disrepair, earthquakes had brought about rockfalls and crushed much of the walkways and boards protecting the pits which had been dug in the excavations. It was a shame to see it in such a sad condition, and it was difficult to know what we were even looking at. After this site we spent rather a lot of time trying to work out where exactly the famed palace of Odysseus was, as signs within the nearest town had shown a scale model of the palace and comparative photos of the wealthy palace they had excavated.
 We failed miserably and swore to return when we had more time. After researching at home, I found to my great amusement that the misleadingly named 'School of Homer' site was in fact the very same! Also known as Agios Athanasios, it was excavated in the 1990s where they found evidence of of ancient walls and a palace from the Mycenaean period, when Odysseus was supposedly the king of Ithaca. However the earthquakes had damaged it so much you could no longer safely reach further up the cliff, where the main site was located (though if I had known it was just there, I don't think that would have stopped me trying!)


Our next archaeological site was an old settlement where there wasn't much left at all to see, apart from steps and walls. I soon learned that the dastardly Heinrich Schleiman had been here too (where has he not ruined!?) and was very amused to learn he had grandly proclaimed this to be the palace of Odysseus, before waltzing off to destroy Troy. The fact that this site was far too early for such a thing to be possible clearly escaped his notice, for he had found pottery within which were surely human ashes, and thus must be the remains of Odysseus and Penelope, or at least their ancestors! Oh Heinrich, you fool.

We had apparently arrived on a festival day for Vathy, as the owners excitedly told us. They suggested we go down in the evening into the town to view the festivities, and the owners wife excitedly told us about a famous singer who would be coming (she was very disappointed when I had no idea who he was). We enjoyed the procession and chanting and so on all the same, having no idea what the festival was for, only that it was religious and of course all in Greek.

We soon discovered a little Carrefour of all things as our local supermarket, and so decided since we had a house to do a little cooking for once, and check out the local restaurants the following night. We had also discovered  - to dads glee - the very same chocolate he and my mum had eaten a few decades before when hitchhiking across Greece and being forced to eat completely melted chocolate. The brand was still around, and I felt it was only fair to try it. The milk chocolate with whole almonds was especially delicious! Good choice parents, I shall follow in your footsteps and eat Greek chocolate.

The choice of places to explore on Ithaca was extremely limited due to the small number of roads on the island, however we did manage to head up to the mountains the next day, giving us extremely beautiful views over the island. We climbed as far as the roads allowed us, visiting the tiny village of Exogi, where many of the houses were abandoned and falling into disrepair. 

It was such a gorgeous mountain village, and it felt sad to see it so visibly fading. The views from the top however, were simply breathtaking. 

Our dinner that night was stand-out. As we had eaten at home the night before, we decided it was time to see Vathy come alive as darkness fell (a phenomenon particular to the Greeks) and eat out. We wandered the waterfront and enjoyed the ambience until we came across a little place called the Siren (a literary reference to Odysseus perhaps?) tucked just back from the waterfront (and thus one of the few places that felt less touristy). Little lights were slung in the trees and it looked simply delightful, so perhaps it was aptly named, as we soon sat ourselves down.


I had lamb for the first time I could remember in goodness knows how long, and enjoyed it very much. We washed down our delicious dinner with a rather lovely white wine from Santorini, and it was from here that my enjoyment in white wine started to grow (something i've never been overly fond of).

Our ferry back to Cephalonia (or is it Kefalonia? Confusing Greek spellings!) was in the afternoon of the next day, so we enjoyed our usual morning swim, packed up our belongings and went to the Carrefour to grab picnic ingredients before heading closer to the ferry. We had seen a sign for an archaeological museum in Vathy and decided we had just enough time to check it out in the morning before heading off. However, like so many of the signs we had tried to follow in the past, it was wonderfully signposted for the first few directions, and then promptly disappeared. The only building we found that could have remotely been the museum was this one, which looked like it had been abandoned sometime during the Cold War. Always keeping us on our toes Greece!

Giving up on our museum search, we said our goodbyes to the little town of Vathy. It was difficult to know we were leaving as it had become one of my favourite places. But new adventures awaited, and the picnic called, so off we went.

Just around the corner from the ferry dock we found this lovely bay, and it even had olive trees for shade! There were tonnes of fish in the water which made swimming enjoyable, and afterwards we enjoyed one of our bottles of Rose from the winery, nicely chilled by our car glove box. It went rather well with our biscots and feta and camembert. Picnic feast!

Then it was time to take the short ferry around the corner back to Kefalonia, ready to explore the northern end. It was hard to say goodbye to Ithaca, as although it's such a small island, two days didn't feel nearly long enough. Out of all the places I went in Greece, Ithaca is the one I would like most to return to. So many dirt roads, beaches, hikes and ruins are just waiting to be discovered, if only I had the time.