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!)
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.
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.
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