On the way to Musaki (Musak to locals) I saw their tourist attraction. There is a kind of Disneyland.. zoo, fairground entertainment and food. It seemed to be attracting busloads of school kids.
Then I saw a great big cliff. There were several loonies stuck like flies all over it. Climbers, real ones. Not the kind that buy the clothes and then sit in a café, but real bonafide nutters. I was impressed. Near to where they were trying to kill themselves there was a restaurant/café in as lovely a riverside site as you could find anywhere. It appeared to have lots of customers. Certainly I would have liked to be a customer.. but what to do with George?
I continued on my way. I saw several adverts for a mill that sold animal food. Things were looking up for George too.
And at the shop Vasso sold us what we wanted at a very (low)special price. She also let us camp in a field opposite her shop.
Then I went into the town.. I urgently needed a bank, down to my last 5 euro note.
When I had a fistful of cash I went to a café and had a coffee and an icecream. I could afford such an indulgence in Musaki, where normal people live. They don`t rip each other off. There aren`t special places for tourists, so they don`t rip us off either.
So polite so friendly so kind.
They are in the process of building the obligatory vast white elephant hotel.. a sign said there would be 1,300 beds.. or some similarly absurd number. I had a brief vision of 1,300 climbers belaying from the top floor, or making a flying fox from the swimming pool to the carpark. No. Climbers.. real ones, don`t stay in hotels, they sleep out in subzero conditions and never wash.
At Rendina they told me most of their customers were hunters. 1,300 hunters? Imagine the noise with the 1,300 hunting dogs and the ..no.. it must be yummie mummies from Athens and Larissa to bring their tiny tots .. playgroups in the paddling pool while their mums go shopping…in Musaki… no. So WHO is going to stay there in such vast numbers?The usual lack of studies seems to have affected Musaki with its madness too.
The way out of Musaki is along nasty asphalt. I ended up passing through Pili and ending up on the kind of road I`ll do anything to get off. So I did. Eventually I ended up in a place called Ano Paliokarya. MAGIC!!
Mr Dimitri told me where I could camp. Unfortunately he said, this was not a touristic area.
Thank goodness.
He hadn`t got much food he said but he could make me an omelette and a salad. He could see I was hungry and tired he said.His café also functioned as a grocers shop. There was the usual chocolate, loukoumi, toilet paper etc on sale.
I parked George, set up my tent and returned.
“How many people live here?”
Mr Dimitri had travelled the world as a sailor. He was proud to use English.
“Five boys” he said.
None of these boys was under 80. I met them because every evening they gathered at Dimitri`s place.
“They don`t go home before 2am” he said.
They watched telly and, as I saw, had fierce arguments about politics.
The next morning I went for a walk around while my stuff was drying from the dew.
It was quite beautiful. Look at the lovely stonework to protect the road. Look at how the newly asphalted road does no damage to anything.. not Dimitri`s shop.not the trees, nothing. The road IS very narrow. But there are mirrors so you can see if there is anything coming.
From Dimitri`s shop to the steep sides of the gorge there are some steps. Fantastic steps. But I don`t think the health and safety inspectors better see them…
At about midday we set off. We went along the little asphalt road which became a little grassy track through some of the most touristic countryside I have seen in Greece. Stunning. And just me and George and Nature.
All good things come to an end and after a couple of hours we were on an asphalt road going to Stournareika. Never heard of it? Neither had I. Because I was very tired indeed, I had decided that if there was a hotel at Stournereika I would stay in it. There was.
There was a place for George and a corn merchant. Perfect. If you go to Stournereika stay at the Archontiko Krommyda. Ask for room 21. From its balcony you look down on walnut trees and you look out on the loveliest view you could hope to see.Don`t worry its not a touristic place.. nothing is too much trouble and they really try hard to please you. They are hospitable and kind.
Then I saw a great big cliff. There were several loonies stuck like flies all over it. Climbers, real ones. Not the kind that buy the clothes and then sit in a café, but real bonafide nutters. I was impressed. Near to where they were trying to kill themselves there was a restaurant/café in as lovely a riverside site as you could find anywhere. It appeared to have lots of customers. Certainly I would have liked to be a customer.. but what to do with George?
I continued on my way. I saw several adverts for a mill that sold animal food. Things were looking up for George too.
And at the shop Vasso sold us what we wanted at a very (low)special price. She also let us camp in a field opposite her shop.
Then I went into the town.. I urgently needed a bank, down to my last 5 euro note.
When I had a fistful of cash I went to a café and had a coffee and an icecream. I could afford such an indulgence in Musaki, where normal people live. They don`t rip each other off. There aren`t special places for tourists, so they don`t rip us off either.
So polite so friendly so kind.
They are in the process of building the obligatory vast white elephant hotel.. a sign said there would be 1,300 beds.. or some similarly absurd number. I had a brief vision of 1,300 climbers belaying from the top floor, or making a flying fox from the swimming pool to the carpark. No. Climbers.. real ones, don`t stay in hotels, they sleep out in subzero conditions and never wash.
At Rendina they told me most of their customers were hunters. 1,300 hunters? Imagine the noise with the 1,300 hunting dogs and the ..no.. it must be yummie mummies from Athens and Larissa to bring their tiny tots .. playgroups in the paddling pool while their mums go shopping…in Musaki… no. So WHO is going to stay there in such vast numbers?The usual lack of studies seems to have affected Musaki with its madness too.
The way out of Musaki is along nasty asphalt. I ended up passing through Pili and ending up on the kind of road I`ll do anything to get off. So I did. Eventually I ended up in a place called Ano Paliokarya. MAGIC!!
Mr Dimitri told me where I could camp. Unfortunately he said, this was not a touristic area.
Thank goodness.
He hadn`t got much food he said but he could make me an omelette and a salad. He could see I was hungry and tired he said.His café also functioned as a grocers shop. There was the usual chocolate, loukoumi, toilet paper etc on sale.
I parked George, set up my tent and returned.
“How many people live here?”
Mr Dimitri had travelled the world as a sailor. He was proud to use English.
“Five boys” he said.
None of these boys was under 80. I met them because every evening they gathered at Dimitri`s place.
“They don`t go home before 2am” he said.
They watched telly and, as I saw, had fierce arguments about politics.
The next morning I went for a walk around while my stuff was drying from the dew.
It was quite beautiful. Look at the lovely stonework to protect the road. Look at how the newly asphalted road does no damage to anything.. not Dimitri`s shop.not the trees, nothing. The road IS very narrow. But there are mirrors so you can see if there is anything coming.
From Dimitri`s shop to the steep sides of the gorge there are some steps. Fantastic steps. But I don`t think the health and safety inspectors better see them…
At about midday we set off. We went along the little asphalt road which became a little grassy track through some of the most touristic countryside I have seen in Greece. Stunning. And just me and George and Nature.
All good things come to an end and after a couple of hours we were on an asphalt road going to Stournareika. Never heard of it? Neither had I. Because I was very tired indeed, I had decided that if there was a hotel at Stournereika I would stay in it. There was.
There was a place for George and a corn merchant. Perfect. If you go to Stournereika stay at the Archontiko Krommyda. Ask for room 21. From its balcony you look down on walnut trees and you look out on the loveliest view you could hope to see.Don`t worry its not a touristic place.. nothing is too much trouble and they really try hard to please you. They are hospitable and kind.
That photo of George's nose with both of you reflected in that road-mirror is GREAT !
ReplyDeleteI'm glad Rosemary (at least) posted a comment. At last!!! Let's see some more, followers!
Penny, looking at the map, I noticed that except Ano Paleokarya, there's also a Kato, a Mesi and a plain Paleokarya, all within 2 miles of eachother! By the way, you seem to be covering a LOT of miles each day!!! Not even a corsa could do better!
Happy riding and may you meet no more rude people from now on!