The View From Nestor's Palace

4000 years ago Pylos was established and, under King Nestor, became one of the leading cities of the Mycenean Empire. Pylos' impressive natural harbour is a natural place to establish a kingdom and a visit to Nestor's Palace is a terrific way to appreciate how a King might rule such a place. Most impressive of all at this site is the 3300 year old terracotta tub that still sits in it's original position. Nestor, famed argonaut, and a battle advisor in the Trojan war lived to be quite an old man and so no doubt enjoyed many a soak in his beautiully painted tub. There is something strangely surreal in standing so close to the bathtub of such a legendary man.




The palace is an impressive size and was discovered with a staggering cache of pottery.



We pop in to visit a neighbouring tholos tomb before we wind our way back down to the coast through countless olive groves...

Olive dusting

And just when we thought our allergies can get no worse, we sleep in the thick of an aged olive grove. Irresistably beautiful, but equally torturous for all the ear, nose, and thoat rubbing deemed necessary by the billions of invasive bits of olive pollen that coat our gear and invade our bodies come morning. Ah, but it was every bit worth it for the tuscan-like views, the outdoor olive tree shower, and the charm of sleeping by a very old church in an olive grove.

achoo! sniffle sniffle

Spring in the Peloponnese is full of wild flowers. Everything is in bloom! A feast for the eyes, a nose full of aromathrapy

and allergens. Yikes! Everything is coated in a hazy dusting of gentle olive green and that'd be because olives have blossoms too - millions and millions of them. They tickle your nose and web up your eyes and could just about make you craaaazzy! Camping provides no refuge fom them especially because olives cover every cultivatable piece of land. Allergy sufferers: beware the olive stuffed state of Messinia home to the beloved Kalamata olive. Achoo! Achoo!

Tower Living

Leaving the Deep Mani the road winds up the Messinian Coast towards the port of Kalamata, but before we get there a few impressive climbs stand in our way. The town of Kardamyli also stands in our way at the base of the first 12km climb to Kambos. Last year we had some of our best swims in the warm Ionian sea that laps the shores of Kardamyli. So we take a break to relax a bit before our final climb away from stark and dramatic Mani. The last of the impressive tower settlements on our route has been nicely preserved here. Tourists can freely ramble around the grounds of the old Troupakides-Mourtzinoi tower complex imagining what life must have been like trapped in this self-sufficient fortress. I ponder Mani tower life and then go for a swim

Unforgiving Mani

Unforgiving Mani is described as being at the height of it's beauty when cold winter winds howl through it's barren tower settlements sounding the forgotten song of melancholic byzantine church bells. Many of these medieval gems contain frescos many centuries old that still cling hapazardly to their neglected walls.

Bavarian Cyclist

Meet Chris Wagner Bavarian cyclist whom we bumped into while lazily making our way away from Hades. He has been bike touring since 2000 and was killing time waiting for the ferry to make his way to Georgia via Crete, Rhodes, and Turkey. We joined his camp on the side of the road to gleen some knowledge, hear some stories, and share a Maniot sunset.

Highway to Hades

Over the Langada pass to the parched, thorny, and infertile Mani was where Spartans seeking asylum from the cruelty of the tyrant Nabis fled. Isolated by geography they were left alone for centuries to eek out an existance amongst the rocks and thorns. They also held onto their pagan roots for the longest of anywhere in Greece only being taken in by the Orthodoxy at the end of the 9th century. The pride of the maniots is that they were one of very few regions to resist Turkish domination. With the incursion of Cretans and Epirotes in the 17th cetury the region began to take on quite a different flavour. Arable land was already scarce but the growing population created a good amount of squabbling. This squabbling gave rise to a tribal system and spectacular vendettas between villages, families, and clans. The character of the warring Maniots gave birth to the word mania.

Generations later these maniac vendettas have still left their mark. Tower settlements bristle like porcupine quills at the tops of surrounding hills. Each tower is a family fortress designed to sustain itself when under seige of the neighbours. We wind our way through the Mani's eastern settlements to the end of the road at Kokinoghia where we share a 42 Euro fish (!) and a boat ride to the mouth of Hades which plunges mostly below water and hides under an impossibly rocky cliff to the northwest of treacherous Cape Matapan famous for devouring Greek ships. I still have a very hard time imagining Orpheus making his way to this place to seek out Eurydice. He must have been a very good swimmer.

Taking in the Taygetos

On the outskirts of the village of Olive is a small church that sits atop a hill beside the sea. This church of Saint Nicholas, is surrounded by good pasture for grazing sheep and looks towards the forbidding snowy peaks of the the twisted and wild range of mountains responsible for forging the legendary character of the ancient Spartans. From our perch on the patio of our little church we study the spiny Taygetos range as it meanders it's way down the third finger of the Peloponese. Severe and isolated this peninsula known as the Mani is the most southerly point in continental Europe and really couldn't be a more poetic place to house Taenarus the ancient entrance to Hades.

As we take this all in the sun eventually bores a hole between the clouds and the peaks of the Taygetos and blazes before us like a giant demonic eye. We all watch as the sun's spectacular gaze sinks below the distant purple range. Putting it all together, Paul turns to us and ponders, "we're riding the highway to Hell, aren't we?".

Laconian Oranges

Citrus is full-blown right now in the Southern Peloponnese. The whole valley that spills south of Sparti towards the Gulf of Lakonikos is ordered with olives and fruit trees. The orange trees that line the coastline are doubled over under their bounty of oranges and blossoms. The fruit is so plentiful that it almost seems there could never be an end to the season. Could this be why the only fresh juice available in Greece is orange juice? They're one step ahead of Belize where every orange grown in the country goes straight to concentrate and then straight to flavourless English breakfast tables.



Under the cool presence of Lakonia's snow capped Taygetos range, we take a pause from our pedalling to quench our lazy thirst with sun-ripened oranges fresh from the tree . As we near the port of Gythio we understand why this region gave birth to Helen's epic love affair that led Mycenae to 10 years of war with Troy. The contrast between the harsh and craggy interior where Helen lived and this gentle green seaside destination could loosen up the sternest of Mycenaeans.

Village Life

Sometimes it's nice to just stop and enjoy village life. When offered coffee by hospitable strangers this is the best opportunity to do just that. In the village of Finiki we stopped at a shop to resupply to eat further down the road. Curiosity got the better of the locals s we had seriously strayed of the beaten path. "Where are you from?" "Here have some bread!" "Do you know about our church?" "Hey Gianni come over here and meet these people from Canada!" "I'm giving you some peanuts from Kalamta." "Can I offer you a coffee?"

As we slowly drank our cold frappes we learned that the shop we were sitting in front of got it's start as a crate of candies sold in the street. The business eventually grew into the main shop in Finiki. The founder, now 74, is still spritely and still goes out to work in his orange and olive groves. He never sits still.

While drinking our coffee I observed a troop of children coming and going from the house on the corner in front of us. They had beautiful dark skin and looked different from most Greeks. I was curious about why they weren't in school. We were told: "They're the children of migrant workers from Bulgaria - Gypsies." "They don't go to school because they don't have their shots."

I thought to myself, or because they're gypsies. I was fascinated by these beautiful and delightfully happy kids. One of the girls spoke some virtually accentless words of English. Amazed at where such English might be coming from without going to school in such a tiny village, Basil learned that she had a relative who spoke some English. The conversation was going along quite nicely until the pretty little thing rendered Basil completely speechless by innocently and quite clearly asking him, "What is...........Motherfuckingsonofabitch?" I guess there is no Greek equivalent for that.

Watch out for Honey Bees!

Greek bees can't rest as no stretch of untilled land is untouched by Greek wild flowers right now. Wild flowers creep out of the most unlikely places creating a surprisingly beautiful palette of colours.

Seductive Monemvasia

There is one entrance to this living Byzantine town on a rock. Lovingly restored by merchants, hoteliers, and the very rare resident, this gem, which is well hidden from view on land, only has 8 residents. In the 6th century, the town began it's life as a Byzantine settlement and as the port to Mystras. It remained under Byzantine rule for 700 years. After this it was occupied very briefly by the Franks, the Papacy, and then for longer by the Venetians, the Turks, and again briefly by the Germans. The town has never been without residents and today has a population of 8 people and at least 200 cats. Winding your way over cobbled streets through tasteful shops and cafes or tumbling your way through the weedy ruins of the upper town to take in a spectacular sunset feels like living in a storybook. This is probably why it is considered one of the most romantic places in Greece. We went for one day and stayed for three.

What's on in Greece

The wildflowers this time of year continuously stop me dead in my tracks. It seems that the higher we get in the mountains, the more spectacular the display. Here are just a few close ups of some of the daily dazzlers