So I woke up early in what turned out to be "To Spiti tou Diavatou" even though we had crossed the whole of a mountain called Voulgara in the dark. I can`t tell you much about it. Before it got dark there were holly trees in flower. There is a Christmas carol entirely dedicated to the religious connections of the holly – to Christianity- even though it has been important to so many Northern religions. The carol – as most brits will remember- says: And the first tree in the greenwood it was the Holly…holly,holly,And the first tree in the greenwood it was the holly.
And the carol has a verse for all the phases in the life of the holly tree..."The holly bears a berry as red as the blood." Symbolising the sacrifice of Christ for our sins. The carol also mentions that "The holly bears a flower as white as the milk" and this white flower symbolises a whole load of stuff.. virginity of mother, wedding of Christ to his church and so on. The reason I`m going on about this is that the holly trees were in flower.. not all of them because Holly is a tree that has separate sexes.. and these flowers were indeed pure virginal white.It is the first time that the symbolism in the carol was so clear to me, because it is the first time..that I have noticed these flowers. It may be the first time I have seen them, also, but so often we see things , but we don`t really notice them.
What else about Voulgara? Jolly steep up hills and jolly scarey ledges. Streams that make your feet jolly wet. Yes, I walked all the time. Its bad enough riding George along the edges of crevasses in broad daylight. At night you`d have to be totally crackers to do that.
So you`d expect I`d sleep late. But my sleeping bag was not only wet.. not damp..wet -but it stank. How could that be? It had rained since we left Rendina, but intermittently. My toilet roll, wrapped in an old supermarket plastic bag was dry. So why was my sleeping bag, wrapped in a 40 quid absolutely waterproof travel bag, soaked and smelly.?
Because,unbeknown to me, said absolutely waterproof bag had become not waterproof before we got to Rendina. "No need to put sleeping bag, tent, mattress on radiators" I thought airily while at the hotel. "They are all dry because protected by 1 million % waterproof bag."
So they stayed in the plastic non waterproof travel bag for three days of extreme heat (remember how hot I had the room at the hotel) and boiled in their own juices.
You try staying asleep, even after walking 28 kms in the dark over quite a big mountain, and ending up in a church where a load of the old ladies who look after the church had had some kind of party and got drunk and thrown fairy liquid and olive oil and incense about the place in an orgy of wild cleaning, in a wet sleeping bag that really really stinks.Bet you couldn`t.
The morning was gorgeous. George was in a lovely place to graze.
What to do while the sleeping bag dried? My project was to find and photograph a Barbie insect on a Barbie flower. And I found one! I did! It was perched on a flower of the colour graphically described by Aegistos as BLOG PINK. Barbie insects, quite rightly, feel that they were put on earth to glimmer and dazzle. They don`t move much, and when they do move it is slowly and not far. So I confidently faffed about focusing and getting the right angle and just the right…when whizz! The little bugger was gone.
The search for the Barbie insect on Barbie flower continues. But I think, that possibly, you get only one chance for such a classic shot- and I blew mine.
I did manage to photograph another super insect though. This I had seen only in motion up til now. They are like little red hot coals moving through the air. You can`t see their wings as wings, because they move so fast. By following one of these little fireballs I managed to see what they are like when they come to rest. The combination of black and red, is exactly the combination of colours in a fire, and that's why they look as if they are little burning coals when they fly. Another interesting thing was some blue birdnest orchids. These strange things are parasitic on other plants, hence no green leaves or anything.
While I was hanging about in this very odd place..3 roads meet here, there are parked dead lorries, a childrens` playground you`d only let kids play in if you wanted to get rid of them, and the church run by the drunk grannies- there is also a place that is going to be a taverna soon. I met the chap who was building it. Of a house for travellers there was no sign.
The guy who was fixing up the taverna was very friendly.
"I don`t suppose you`ll be travelling on today" he said "So you are welcome to stay in my building.. there`s a fireplace with wood, its dry and clean"
At first I couldn`t think why he thought I wouldn`t be travelling on, but when I demurred, and said I was about to set off, he said
"The weather is going to be very bad,very soon"
But I really thought I should get on the road. My plan was to get to Nereida, and from there follow the track to Mavromata which goes over Mt Martsa, and crosses the river Tavropos.
Got to Nereida easily enough, though I arrived in a state of shock and distress – you see they were building a new road.. apparently it will go to Fourna and elsewhere,, but just look at the collection of photos of the unnecessary destruction being wrought on that particularly lovely mountain side. I KNOW you need asphalt roads I know that communications are very important. But what I don`t understand, can`t understand and won`t understand is why the roads are built with such a horrendous lack of respect for the place, the environment, the future, the past.. everything. Why destroy 500 trees when you only need to destroy 20? Why make a road so wide?.. 40 people live in Nereida..engineers have computers and information about the behaviour of different surfaces, so why cause landslides on such a catstrophic scale? I could go on and on, and probably will, but later.. but really- when I got to Nereida and had to ask someone to move his car so I could get past, the absurdity of the whole thing was made manifest. A person parks in the middle of the road because he is pretty sure no one is going to use that road. And here we tax payers are getting stuck with a bill for god knows how many million euros to build a two lane highway from nowhere to nowhere. And the cost to the environment? Just look at the photos.
Getting to Mavromata was less easy. I should have paid more attention to what people told me. I asked three separate people for directions, and each one told me how to find the road and then muttered something like "you`ll have to cross the river, of course"
I should have been alerted, but being a dope I wasn`t.
Soon the promised rain came. Brrrr.
It bucketed down. I know it was raining cats and dogs because I trod in a poodle.
After a long time and after a steep descent we got to the river. Where the track appeared to stop. Washed away. Water was cascading down from every side. The river was boiling. Readers, I wimped out. The water wasn't that deep but there were huge boulders and stones and I just didn't want to risk George. So we walked back the twelve or so kilometres to Nereida. I say we, because, George, being Greek, was in a state of considerable outrage at being so violently rained upon, and was also absolutely sure that, if a landslide didn`t get him from one side of the track, then some incredibly athletic predator would get him by climbing up the sides of the ravine. Since there were PLENTY of places to fall to our deaths, I decided to walk.
George almost managed to kill himself even so. He had decided that the edge of the crevasse was marginally safer than the cliff above. Suddenly something scared him. He leapt forward, knocking his beloved owner for six, and then bolted.
The angel that looks after stupid people protected me. Instead of lazily and dangerously walking along with George`s reins hooked over my arm, as I normally do, I was holding the reins. All I had to do was open my fingers to let George go. I ended up with bad rope burns on my left hand and a seriously wrenched shoulder. If I`d had the reins over my elbow I suppose I`d have broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder at best.
George, panic stricken, pounded off into the mist.
"He`s going to go over a cliff and he`s got my new computer with him" I thought.
Then I heard him pounding back again. Of course it was even scarier in the mist on his own than it was in the mist with me. The photo shows his great relief at finding me.
I was, of course, desperately relieved to see him too. (marsbar eating fest followed)
The walk back to Nereida was exhausting. But it is surprising how a small perfect thing can make everything bearable.
On the side of the track were two bright red wild strawberries. (I couldn`t photograph these particular strawberries because it was raining too hard, but I have added a photo of other strawberries I ate another day.)Beautiful. I gobbled them up. Didn`t even offer one to George, though he is partial to strawberries. They tasted of paradise.
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