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.