The Pelopennese, Greece
From CycleSheffield
Jezuz Panneezas it’s the Peloponnesus!
The Significant Other having a great interest in all things Greek, and having been learning Greek for several years, it was time to check out the cycling in the Peloponnese.
Once again, we thought we would try to get there the sustainable way. Much internet searching and interrogation of the Man in Seat 61 ensued, and we discovered that it’s quite possible to get there overland either through Italy or the Balkans, and not even take too much time over it, but over £300 per person one way? Phew. Plus we wouldn’t be able to take bikes without a lot of hassle, so Easyjet it was - £20 per bike each way and carbon off-set £8.00
Easyjet fly to Athens from both Luton and Gatwick, and if you’re travelling from Sheffield the thing to do is fly out of Luton and back into Gatwick, because of the timings. Luckily both Midland Mainline and Easyjet make that very easy to book because of the way they sell tickets, as single journeys. Midland Mainline however did not make it all that easy to book bikes – the same old story, as the train we wanted to catch, the 08:36, (or 08:53 if you believe the internet) did not have bike reservations available. As we were taking bike bags anyway, this meant we had to plan to bag up our bikes on the platform at Sheffield, lug them on and off the train at Luton and take them up to the airport on the bus – not easy when there are no trolleys at the station either.
Needless to say there were no bikes on the train and we could have left them un-bagged and cycled up to the airport – as it turned out we only had enough to time to bag up one bike at Sheffield before the train came in, due to believing the internet - a cock-up with my planning - so we lugged one on and wheeled the other.
No matter, with the luggage checked in there was only the scrum for seats on the plane to contend with. With superb forward planning we had booked the airport hotel at Athens for the night (you can get a reasonably cheap rate if you go in via the Athens Airport website well in advance) so all we had to do was wander over the road with our trolleys, hand them over to the lackey on the door, and have our bikes delivered to our room whilst we considered the cost of champagne (too expensive for us) We didn’t quite have enough time to get the metro into Athens so a couple of beers in the hotel bar had to suffice.
In the morning, a quick schlep around to the airport station had us waiting for the train to Corinth. Athens has come on since the Olympics and the station now has both the metro and heavy rail which allegedly takes bikes, although it seemed politic to leave ours in the bags. At Corinth we had a couple of hours wait for a change of trains, although we could have hung around the airport and had a quicker change for the Peloponnese train. However, we had a coffee, put the bikes together and had a quick and scary introduction to Greek roads, and re-bagged then in time for our train to Kyparissia.
4½ Hours later we disembarked (the fare for this journey by the way was 6 euros 50 cents or about £4, so you can put THAT in your beard and smoke it Sir Richard!) to be greeted by our friends Penny & Rob, who had sensibly upped sticks from the Sheffield area and bought an olive farm which they are gradually converting to organic status (the difficulty with that not being the agricultural aspects but Greek Bureaucracy). Our next two nights would be in the Yurt that is usually used by WWOOF’ers – (see http://www.wwoof.org/) P+R are excellent company and we had a very nice time indeed, exploring nearby Kyparissia in the daytime and visiting the local friendly (Irish!) taverna in the evening.
Our batteries recharged, it was time to set off on the road. However, herself was feeling a little fragile after the night in the taverna and we were a little late setting off, so our first day cycling was a bit truncated but we made it to the excellent town in Pilos with its fine natural harbour. The cycling along the coast was mostly flat, and although we were on the main road traffic was not heavy and there was an ample hard shoulder for us to lurk on. Greece has a tradition of slow-moving traffic, whether, donkeys, moped riders or old women in black carrying bags of sticks, and whilst traffic in towns could be chaotic we always felt there was a place for us out on the road. This meant that even when the main road literally disappeared into road works (none of this lane closure nonsense you get in the UK) we felt confident to carry onto the rough surface and dodge around the giant road-scrapers with everyone else.
Our hotel, the first one you come to as you come into town , had lovely views of the natural harbour (Much naval history abounds and the catering facilities meant we could stroll into town and buy breakfast as well as sampling a few beers and eating in the excellent local taverna.
However, that late start meant we had some catching up to do to reach our next destination of Kardamyli. The morning, saw our first major climb before dropping into the busy Kalamata region, We saw what looked like a minor road leading along the coast into town, but were put off when we realised it actually lead into a huge camp for migrant workers. Again the main road saw us through and before long we were settling into a harbour front taverna for lunch.
That bottle of beer might have been a mistake though, when I realised what lay ahead of us, for beyond Kalamata is tourist-ville for five miles, followed by a climb that just keeps on going, and not helped by half the road surface having been removed. Then we dropped into a ravine before another punishing climb, and with evening drawing in no time to stop before the last climb of the day. Finally we swooped down into Kardamyli, with the kind of descent that makes you wonder how on earth you are ever going to get back out again! If we had split that day’s ride it would have been very pleasant, but it was too much to do in a single day.
No matter, we again had a two night’s rest, and settled into Elena’s Rooms, Elena being about 180 years old, (& the former housekeeper of Mani expert Patrick Leigh Fermor (known locally as “liffermor”) and her son Yiorgos being the local villa magnate. This area has become very popular with brits buying properties particular in the villages up in the hills, and you can see why. The walking in particular is very good in the area, and we were impressed with the clearly signed and laid out paths. Two nights here with a room looking out over the sea enabled us to try the only place to eat in the village twice, and down a few more beers in the surprisingly swanky new local bar.
Bearing in mind our experience of the ride two days ago we set our sights low and headed for Areopolis, the next town down the coast a mere 30-or-so miles away. The road started off flattish past the holiday resort of Stoupa, but soon started to climb with great views of the coast. We passed Oitilo, the transport hub of the region, and swooped down to sea level before the long climb back up into town. Areopolis despite an unprepossessing-looking main square is a very pleasant town with an older part hidden away. We were the only guests in the Mani Hotel, (It’s decidedly off-season in March) and were able to check out the coffee in all the towns cafes – the good, the bad and the downright disgusting! The town boasts one excellent restaurant as well, although being a carnivore is recommended.
The next day we set off for a tour of the Mani peninsula, without doubt the high point of the trip. The southern part of the peninsula really is wild and woolly, reminiscent in part of some of the wilder parts of Wales and Scotland, and covered with tower houses, some of which has been restored and offer beds for tourists, although we were a bit too early in the year for that. A terrific climb took us over to the east side of the coast, through the village of Lagia, and again hurtling down to sea level. We spun along the coast for a while, and could see the coast road heading off around a headline, but it was time to climb back over to the other side of the peninsula. This was a nice surprise - after some climbing and twisting we had a steep pull through a village and were just expecting the road to turn and climb again when we were over the top and into a valley that lead us out and back to Areopolis.
The next day saw rain arrive, the tail end of the storms that had hit the rest of Europe, and we had craftily decided to do our travelling that day. Although we could have gone to Kalamata and got the train back to Corinth, as the train line that travels up the eastern side of the Peloponnese is undergoing heavy reconstruction we decided to try out the bus & coach service. This entailed changing at Githio and Spartia, and although the conductor on the local bus to Githio looked askance at us we got the bagged bikes on no problem, and at the bus station we were charged a massive 3 euros extra (each!) to take the bikes 200 miles or so. All went smoothly until we arrived at Corinth, where the bus charged past both the Corinth motorway turn-offs and pulled in at a service station some way further along. The driver was able to inform us that this was as close to Corinth as we were going to get, so there we were, in heavy rain at dusk (no mudguards in the bikes of course) facing a busy dual carriageway and with not much idea of where Corinth was. Coaches came and went but no-one was going into Corinth, so eventually we decided it was time to put the bikes together, grit our teeth and deal with it. In the event the ride into town wasn’t too bad, traffic not too heavy and we got ourselves booked into the first hotel we came to, the Hotel Apollo which is of course right opposite the train station we would have arrived at had we chosen the train option.
Corinth is a great place to buy designer clothes but a crap place to eat, especially if you prefer not to eat charred flesh. On our last day we took a train ride to DiaKofto and took the "Odontotos" ("The train with teeth” – the rack and pinion railway) up the spectacular gorge to the ski resort of Kalavryta a town noted for the dreadful massacres that took place there during the second world war . On the way up we shared the train with a large group of Greek pensioners, but on the way back we had a carriage to ourselves. A recommended side-trip – opinions vary on whether you can get your bike on the train although it looked to us as though there was room.
This done it only remained to take the efficient Suburban Railway back to the airport, and arrive back at a cold & overcast Gatwick and long trip home. Gloom!
Simon Geller 26 March 2007
