A funny thing happened on the way to the airport a couple of weeks ago. Breakfast, before we left on the last leg of our Greek road trip, was had on Gythio waterfront. A shop selling prints and C.D’s caught our beady tourist eyes. Popping into the shop I immediately bought these 4 postcards. A beardy chap invited us to follow him to another location. He was artist and photographer George Hassanakos, our destination was his workshop, showroom and studio.
Without a care for our bulging suitcases we bought more A3 prints of his photography. His workplace was fascinating, as all creative spaces are. Needing to start the journey to Athens we left him, reluctantly. In an effort to keep us he offered to call the airport and delay our flight. We demurred from his vivid suggestions, the ideas of a wildly creative mind and set off.
The large prints survived our journey to the U.K, just a quick hop to Australia for some of them now. We are all the proud owners of prints signed and annotated by the artist. Funny the unplanned things that happen on the way. Unplanned but never unwelcome.
Our Greek road trip involved Hannah as our driver. Dai, an actual Navigational Officer. Yianna his Greek/ Australian wife and reader of all Greek road signs, and myself the google map reader. A car, full of people to get us to the right place at about the right time. Which we very much achieved despite many Kafenio stops, immense geographic beauty and a fair amount of mirth.
Things that we all lost in translation were the overviews of two of our overnight stops. One ‘ delightful and traditional’ townhouse had rooms decorated in the style of a high-class bordello of the ‘ Belle-Époque’ period. Concentrating on the harem end of the femininity scale.
The other intriguing townhouse surprised us with a very contemporary style, which in any language would best be described as ultra-modern swingers rooms. Along with all our other bookings, on the homemaker end of the scale, they were very lovely welcoming places to stay. As four weary travellers we could not really live up to the Town House interior design as fully as we could have.
Luckily one was booked by the English team and one by the Australian so the only thing to do was laugh.
Dai and I were at school together 55 years ago. We often reverted to our 11-17 year old selves.
When you see a pair of gold plated boots, a photo opportunity could not be ignored when we were in that juvenile mindset.
Have boots, will travel.
This was the start of our last Greek journey. Hannah had planned the route to take in one of the sinking bridges of the Corinth Canal. The rest of us had not listened to her.
We arrived at the sinking bridge.
Everyone apart from Hannah was in disbelief that such a thing could exist. Hoping for a passing boat there was much discussion.
But checking my trusty marine navigation app nothing was on the canal. We set off for a Kafenio, they cure all travel woes, actually all woes. We turned the car round on a dust bowl building site and headed off. But as we headed back to the bridge it had disappeared! Two unregistered boats were about to pass.
I took a video of it rising, sadly we had missed the sinking bridge sinking. The nattering at the end sets the scene. Disbelief all round. 4 mins long.
All the colours of my day. We took a trip to Monomvasia. Two reasons. Someone had said it was ‘Worth a look’. And secondly I remembered reading about the fortress town, in an old edition of National Geographical, such an old edition that the pictures were in black and white.
The understatement of black and white images and a throw away remark had not prepared me for the vibrancy and beauty of a town hanging on the slopes of a rocky island close to mainland Greece.
Our day started very grey, torrential rainfall and a waterspout accompanied the bitter, but essential phase of coffee in a taverna.
Arrival to Monomvasia brought turquoise sea, free parking and a cheap bus ride up a steep hill.
Every corner of the town was a visual treat. Old houses still awaiting some twenty first century tweakments, or not. I do love a dishevelled building in the right circumstances.
A taverna for sale had a laconic sitting tenant with no expectation of being disturbed any time soon. Monomvasia is in Laconia.
For a touch of blue with both meanings of the word, I realised yesterday that I really regret getting rid of all my dads old National Geographics when I cleared my old home 30 years ago. There is something magical about discovering a fantastic world of colour hinted at in monotone.
September is a month in flux. A roadtrip in September is fluxxflux . But some things stay the same. Breakfast and bedsheets. Waking up to a new day to gently observe the summer slipping quietly away.
Both subjects far too rich to be dispensed with in my briefer travelling ponders. Just so much wonderful stuff to ponder but no time to ponder on a road trip. Even on travelling days we like to do in excess of 10,000 steps.
For the first time in a while we have reliable wi-fi, which has enabled me to download images from my digital camera.
The digital camera is less prone to overheating so I am very glad to have had it on this trip. Which has swung from very hot to torrential rain in the blinking of an eye. My phone has overheated and failed at critical Google Map moments but so far we have hit every location or ferry appropriately.
For now I am going to share the thumbnail images of the market in Nafplion. I have yet to sort through them but they are so bright and wholesome. A Saturday morning well spent. There were one or two essential visits in mind when we planned this trip. For me Nafplion market was one of them.
The day we followed a hand-drawn paper map around Stemnitsa and a little bit beyond
Breakfast to fuel adventures in the sun. Leaving Stemnitsa for a Sunday Drive.
First stop, a monastery, where celebrations were ongoing to celebrate the birth of Mary, mother of Jesus.
Amyalon Monastery
Next stop Dimitsana for excellent ice cream and a wander about.
Then an adventure of 10 km of hairpin bends to take us down through a ravine to some ancient ruins and a crystal clear river. So cool on a hot day. But thunder and lightning were about which made the drive back spectacular.
Forcing us to take refuge in an excellent Kafenio for early supper while we waited for the deluge to pass.
So long Nafplion and the fabulous Fougaru Arts Centre. Oh the drama of not noticing a low level water feature and wading to the cafe, as wet as a fish.
Hello Stemvitsa and wedding trucks.
And dancing brides.
From the coast to the mountains. Another fabulous day.
Many happy hours spent wandering streets and catching up on our steps after a 15 minute crossing to mainland Greece.
The Cats of Greece pose, well executed.
I can feel warmth towards Greek cats knowing that it is not my back yard they are relieving themselves in. Travel makes me more broadminded and tolerant!
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
Any number of swear words. I like to think I use them wisely and to make a point. But they slip out a little more often than they should, because I am a grandparent to impressionable small people.
Enough of my swear words.
The word I have used a lot today is luck and lucky.
For many more reasons than I need to go into here. Specifically because we took a ferry to a beach which looked like this four years ago
The owner made the decision to get rid of sunbeds, restrict trading to one taverna and have a well cared for public toilet.
The result for us was a quiet, peaceful beach approaching the end of the summer season.
Untroubled by mass tourism we swam and chatted on a near deserted beach. The water was crystal clear and we had a wholesome late lunch in the one remaining taverna.
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