Last time, baby? I don`t know-oh no!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzZHmHqEE7k

As I mentioned, going along the big road from Kalambaka towards Ioannina/Grevena is a bit of a turnoff... but at some stage you turn off towards Grevena.. which is still dangerous, still a turnoff, but about half as dangerous as the road taking all the traffic out of Kalambaka.(see photo of road sign to understand WHY its dangerous. The sign (which is not aimed at Brits, to remind them, if they happened to have just arrived in Greece, that we drive on the right here, because it is in Greek) tells everyone that we DRIVE ON THE RIGHT, we only use the LEFT when overtaking. I can`t help feeling that truck drivers and porsche owners and datsun pilots really OUGHT to know that, BEFORE they are let loose on the public highways. But apparently they don`t, so I suppose its good to remind them. A question, though.If these persons don`t know which side of the road to drive on, or which side to overtake, mightn`t it be a bit much to expect them to be able to read?

Eventually you turnoff this road and take the road to Deskati. It still asphalt, it still has reminders about which side of the road to use, its still a turnoff, but the whole thing is less urgent. There`s hardly any traffic, and you can hear it coming for ages, as it is normally something like a combine harvester or a milk lorry. These use the middle of the road, anyway. Your job is to get out of their way.

The roadside was FULL of flowers. Some of which I have never seen before. This exquisite wild clematis for example. It came in maroon or purple. Beautiful enough to make you stop feeling hungry (me. George of course seized the opportunity to graze while I looked at them)

And look at these wild members of the onion family.Maybe some kind of leeks?

And there were insects, big shiny buzzy beetles.

We got to a place, not on the map, but apparently called Agios Theodosios. There was a garage and a farm.. and a vast pastureland being developed as a leisure area.

Here incredibly vast sums of money had been squandered on.. a building and another building in a rock. Everything was as cheap and crap as could be.

They carved a path along the side of the rock to the cafe - or whatever the fuck it`s meant to be with such lack of respect.. I mean, we don`t destroy natural monuments nowadays- do we?

The local herdsmen use the park, as they are quite right to do.. it has been built, afterall, on the traditional common grazing grounds of the area. A shepherd told me that about every fifteen days, at this time of the year, busloads of children come to the "park". How many children? oh lots, whole busloads.

There was little evidence of this, but, I saw that, as an afterthought, someone had realised that busloads of children really couldn`t be allowed to climb along the side of a cliff on a narrow path without any guard rails. So they put some. Wonky isn`t really the word for them. Very wonky, perhaps covers it.

Well, anyone who has had anything to do with school outings can be nothing but amazed that a self respecting group of 16 year olds could leave such a feeble construction unmolested. It would be the work of seconds to destroy it. Even eight year girls could put down their Barbies for a few seconds and vandalise it. Are Greek children weirdly well behaved, like some kind of zombies? I believe they are as normal as kids anywhere. The only explanation for the fact that those railings are still in place is that no kids have been near them. That is to say all that money has been spent creating an unusable attraction, while at the same time destroying it aesthetically.

Also although there is a river (dunno) running through the park, it is somewhat inaccessible for cattle and sheep to drink from. So there are water troughs. (empty) But, when I tried to get water for George (also unable to access the river) There wasn`t any. A whole expensive system of pipes and taps had been put in place, there appeared to be taps everywhere.None worked.

Oh said the shepherd, The Dimarchos has turned off the water.

Why?

Its for the visitors.

And am I not a visitor?
The shepherd had rigged up a hosepipe arrangement for his sheep, to circumvent the problems of traditional watering holes having had their water removed and put into a system of pipes and then switched off, so the animals had nothing to drink.

Kindly, because it was a very hot afternoon, he was sprinkling his sheep with water from a jug he had specifically for that purpose. The sheep were politely waiting their turn to be sprinkled.

The hosepipe had so little pressure, that he couldn`t fill his jug from it, he had to dip it into a trough which had taken most of the day to fill .
When the trough was empty they moved off.

The leisure area was a LONG walk from the garage, but I had seen that the garage owner also had a cafe and when I got there he was sweetly anxious to make sure I got fed and watered and looked after. He gave me a great meal. Everything, including the toilets (always a slight worry about using the toilets at these kind of cafes) were clean, new and carefully maintained. Really an excellent place to stop.

Some miles down the road there was yet another "Leisure area". I had stopped at it in 2004, and planned to stop there again now, as the weather was going to get bad- soon.

Unfortunately the place had deteriorated in the meantime, and the roof of the kiosk was not quite what I had hoped for. There was plenty of grass for George and water though. I spotted a small empty house nearby. The roof of its verandah seemed weatherproof. That`d do.

The usual notice board outside the leisure area had a lovely subtle butterfly perched on it. I usually go for brash in butterflies, but this was so perfect in a good taste way that I thought you`d like to see it too. Also on the notice board was a new plastic label saying how much money had been spent recently. Readers... now that we know what we know about how the Greek politicians have been stealing from us... here is a very clear example which shows it isn`t just the bignames in Athens that do it.. Somebody in the Dimos Xasion has cleaned up BIGTIME on the leisure places.. the one at Agios Theodosios, the one here, and the one I would see the next day at Agios Jiannis claim to have spent HUGE sums. And yet, the money for the leisure place where I stayed CAN¬T have been spent on that. (nor could the amount designated for the others have been spent on what they were supposed to be spent on.) The roof of the kiosk, and the shattered remains of one remaining table and a fence that couldn`t even keep George in- George, who stays in a place if you just paint a white line on the ground, was out of the fence and into someone`s trifili like a rat up a drainpipe -means that no money has been spent on this place since I was last there.. and then it had already been grossly overfunded.Look at the photo..the land already belonged to the public..and you can see how exactly thy have spent all those millions. Yes. millions.

A LOT of money has gone. But no one is in jail.

At about 6am the rain started with dreary persistence. No way we could travel on. So I walked about 500 m down the road and came to a garage/cafe that I remembered from 6 years ago.They let me stay all day in the cafe with my computer plugged in to their electrics. I got a lot of blogwork done.. but couldn`t post anything because Vodaphone doesn`t have a signal in that area.. or not much of one.

When the rain finally stopped I decided to go for a walk. Wearing my usual wetweather gear (see earlier blog for details) I crossed the river (don`t know) and tried to climb up the hill to the Church Agios Jiannis. Because some dope with a grader had been up the track it was very hard to walk up. So I changed route and went along the first unimproved path I could find. And there I beheld a wonder!!! an orchid- but WHAT an orchid. So strange so exotic so - well peculiar. I`d never seen anything quite like it. Near where I live I found a Lizard orchid, but it wasn`t quite the same as this.. the Lizard orchids were greenish, and though spectacular, were also kind of ugly, didn`t have the oomph that this flower did. Never the less I suppose this is a kind of Lizard orchid.. they vary greatly, and the ones at Agios Jiannis are maybe a special subspecie endemic to that area.

I showed the old guys in the cafe the pictures, later. They all recognised it at once. Its name is Agia Jianni they said. The reason they called it that was that their grandfathers called it that. They thought it may be to do with the fact that it usually blooms at the time when they go to the Church of Agios Jiannis, Prodromos (beginning of May) to celebrate. This one, they said, was very late and so that`s why I only found one.

Though, as the cafe owner said, there isn`t so many of them as there used to be.

The next morning it wasn`t raining, and there was lovely light illuminating the hillsides.

That`s it for rain, I thought. There can`t be more.. and that`s why this post`s song is The Last Time. Because I thought I`d got soaked for the last time, baby. Any Greek will tell you that its very foolish to think like that, and sure enough..OH NO!!! it wasn`t the last time at all. Usually I say just listen to the music while you read, but.. this Youtube is worth a gander.. its Mick as a youth.. and how very very compelling he is.. I`d forgotten...

But for most of the day it continued warm and sunny. I found the most FANTASTIC insect on the road. He is the hopper stage of some very large locust type thing. he was the size of a baby mouse. Wow!!

The roadsides continued to be decorated by all kinds of rare flowers

As we started down the road from the top of Mt Deskati (the map calls it Vounasa) towards Elati we had a couple of nasty shocks.

First this was a track when I was last here. And now it isn`t. And why?? (there is already a road from Deskati to Elati) lining pockets again I`d say..

and to make this crappy road they have killed not only the trees that were on the new road but also many beside it, The other shock? Well look at the sky behind those dead and dying trees,

OH NO!!! not the Last Time at all.

The light which now reaches the ground because the trees have gone means that many plants that can`t grow under trees can now . Strawberries for example.

Luckily about halfway down the mountain they have either run out of money or those in charge of the Elati area have decided to spend the money on something else, not having a brother in law with a road building company. So it reverts to being a track. Hurray!!!.

However someone HAS got a grader, so when the rain began to fall in buckets, the track became almost impossible. Either like glue, or like icerink or like paddling pool. All because some dope had removed the grass that was holding everything together.

But now came a very great thrill. I saw bear foot prints.

But you`ve seen billions of bearprints! you`ve already bored us with more than enough info about bears and their prints! don`t tell us even more stuff about bears! just shutup about bears!

Sorry, I can`t.

You see a bear on Mt Deskati is a sign that bears are really doing well. Deskhati is a small mountain, though it is suitable bear habitat. But no bear lived there - and now one does!!!

It isn`t possible for a bear to live on a mountain without the people who have animals there knowing. So - this means they are learning to tolerate them. To welcome them. To understand why a mountain that has a bear is a mountain that is healthy for all of us.

I`ll probably read in the newspaper that someone has shot the bear on Deskhati.. but for now, I am full of optimism.

In this mood of exhileration and hope I reached a little church outside Elati. MrLeonidas and his wife were just leaving the church having lit candles. They told me I could sleep there, that George could graze there and that the Panayia would take care of us.

"If anyone asks any questions, just tell them Leonidas told you to stay here" siad Mr Leonidas "I`m in charge of this church and I have told you to stay here."

Brilliant.

singing in the rain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmCpOKtN8ME

I woke up and it was not raining. I made some coffee, and it still wasn`t raining. I started to pack up and splosh! everything soaked in 10 seconds.. So I decided to stay where we were, even though I was not entirely sure where that was. What I do know is that it was beautiful and peaceful.

So I decided to go for a walk to find all the bear footprints, and to see what other wild life was using the paths. When it`s wet the survival theory is that when you are going to be moving about you get yourself wet and keep your clothes dry, so when you have to keep still you don`t freeze. Any person unlucky enough to encounter me under wet circumstances will therefore find me NOT wearing my shoes and socks, but wearing plastic sandals. No trousers, natch. I will be wearing a mac( see kit paramo) for details, but I won`t be wearing much under it. I will have my binoculars (leica and will never let wet in and get mould) with me, and I will have my camera, but under my jacket, so it doesn`t get wet, but can easily be deployed for photo taking.

Very odd, and I would feel a bit selfconscious should a hunter or woodsman hove into view. They seldom do, because they don`t like rain.

This morning I made sure George was in a good grazing situation and went back along the way we had come the previous evening. I intended to photograph Mummy bear, Baby bear, Teenage bear and Daddy bear`s footprints. plus any others. Almost at once I found tracks of wildboar (shhh don`t tell George) interesting ones too. It was Mummy boar and 5 or 6 baby boars teeny weeny footprints.. these must have been out on almost their first walk..each little hoof print was less than an inch long. But I couldn`t get decent photos of them, so you`ll have to make do with words for them.

I found that bears had been active in the night, there were more prints than I had noticed the previous evening.

It had been warm then, so every puddle had been full of little frogs and toads and newts. Now because it was cloudy and cold I didn`t see any. Even the flowers seemed under the weather.But I did see some great botany.. the green thing is an orchid called a Twayblade.

The odd shaped thing that looks a bit like a dead leaf is lichen that had dropped off the trees. The brown flower is a birdsnest orchid. They are called birdsnest orchids, because their roots form something that looks like a birds nest. They work together with fungi and steal nutrients from other plants roots, or maybe they are saphrophitic, and get nutrients from dead vegetable matter. whatever, they don`t need to be green because they are too lazy to photosynthesize.

I walked and I walked and I walked. I thought that I would get to the giant bear print. But I never did. I underestimated how fast George had been travelling, and how slowly I was bumbling along looking at stuff. There wasn`t any point in not walking as it was still raining, and what would I do if I stopped? get cold, that`s what.

But when the rain stopped I had a look at my watch, thinking I`d get back, giving the tent time to dry by the time I got back. It then that I found I had been gone for 4 hours. Enjoying myself a lot. Singing actually (not loudly enough to scare nature away, but definately Singing in the Rain. ) I didn`t get as far as the big bear, and I gave up that plan. It was stupid plan anyway. Male bears and female bears live separately, and since male bears aren`t to be trusted with baby bears (though I am told that there is no record of a male bear killing a baby bear in Greece, it doesn`t mean it doesn`t happen. This species does this in other places. Male bears don`t want other male bear`s offspring growing up. What they want is to pass on THEIR genes.)I should have realised that the overlap of the territories was going to be a long way away from what was obviously the main part of the mother bear`s territory. Pity I didn`t think of that BEFORE I decided to walk back all that way...
I tied George quite near my tent for the night, so I could call out soothing words if roedeer came. No need.Even though a roedeer did come.

Something woke me. A kind of swishing sound. An elegant little buck roedeer moving through the soaking tall grass. He stopped. and sniffed." Yeah," he obviously thought, "there`s a human here, somewhere. " But he didn`t make his alarm bark and bounce off into the woods. He started to make a badtempered growling grumbling kind of sound while walking around my tent . He couldn`t quite locate me, though he was right beside my tent (I saw where he`d been when I got up in the morning) He continued with the stroppy sound for a while. I was holding my breath thinking about what George was going to do. George did nothing.

The bambi wandered off still growling. What a grumpy little animal.

bulls,bears and possibly bambies

When we left Stournaraika it was drizzling mildly. As we toiled up the hill out of the village in pursuit of the E4 it stopped that and became sunny and wonderful. Villagers had warned us NOT to try to get onto the E4 in this way, but to go back up the asphalt til we saw the sign to Nereidohori and Pertouli. I had already seen this sign. I didnt want to go that way as the sign also detailed the vast millions that was being spent "improving" the track. George and I, and I expect almost all readers, HATE improved tracks, and the sense of doom that accompanies the cement, dynamite and destruction that improvement brings.So we went up an animproved track, through flowers and grassy meadows and woods, saw all kinds of lovely flowers (see vry lovely spurge) until we met another, somewhat, but not unbearably, improved track. George threw up his head and stopped. What was that on the hillside? Cows, Oh no.

George and I share an uneasy feeling when we see cows now. We couldn`t see a bull, but we knew that somewhere in the shadows he`d be skulking. As we drew nearer I dismounted. The farmer near Giona had advised that it might be better to dismount near bulls, because then the animal would be able to see that one of us was a human, that we were not a threatening composite animal.
A pack of dogs threw themselves into their job of barking with all possible enthusiasm. I was obliged to pick up a branch to beat them off. As we passed the herd, I saw the bull. He was placidly chewing the cud by the watertrough, just as you expect tubby Limousin bulls to do. Nevertheless we got past as quick as we could without actually running. There were three possible directions, as the watertrough was at a meeting of ways. Whe we got round the corner I looked at the map. It seemed to me we should be heading for Mt Nereida (wonder what its REAL name is). Luckily a shepherd had struggled up to te road to meet us. He sent us back the way we had come. We had to go past the bull again and take the road in the opposite direction. So much for my famed sense of direction.

The bull remained fatly lying down. He smiled as we passed.

An hour or so later we met another herd, another bull. This one was NOT lying down, but he didnt bother us.

It was getting to be about time we stopped. Found a lovely meadow on a kind of island surrounded by streams. George rejected this place. I usually let him sniff about in places I am thinking of stopping to see if they suit. He didnt like the grass in the place. There were plenty of signs that cattle grazed there. I have to say I wasn`t too keen on having a bloody great bull tripping over my guy ropes either. So we travelled on.

The track was muddy. There I saw the biggest print made by a bear that I have ever seen. There is an absolutely HUGE male bear on this mountain.

I thought about the second herd of cattle we had just passed in the forest. There were young calves.. real babies, with their mothers. If I was a farmer, I thought, I wouldnt be THAT sanguine about having calves free where a bear of such dimensions was lording it around the place.

Farmers always know if there are bears, so it wasn`t that they hadn`t taken his presence into account. Then I remembered the dogs. Both herds we had passed had dogs hanging out with them. Just as Bling and George had bonded, and knew each others fears and pleasures, so these dogs bond with their cattle. And these dogs are real professionals where guarding their cattle is concerned. Other dogs bond with their sheep or goats and protect them. Not because they are trained to do so - I had never trained Bling to look after George, she just knew that that was what you DO with your horse, and these cattle or sheep dogs are not trained to protect their animals either. They just Do it.

Years ago, when the bear sanctuary was opened in Nymphaeon, I went to the ceremony.The lovely old priest blessed the cage the bear was in, swung incense over the tv cameras etcetc. Then all the sheep dogs from a nearby flock came bounding up the valley - they had smelled the bear -still in the pre release cage- and had arrived to drive it off. Proof, if proof were needed, that these dogs know their job, and can be absolutely relied upon to do it.

So, these baby calves would have to do something pretty silly to get eaten by a bear.. even if he IS the biggest bear in Greece.

So on we went, my infallible sense of direction dictating which track we chose.

In the fading light I saw some very special flowers. These are columbines. also known as Granny`s bonnets, or Granny`s night cap. You can see why in the picture of the single flower. (This I took a day later when there was light and I found another columbine plant) It is the first time that I have seen these growing wild in Greece, so I was pretty excited. But not as excited as I became when we saw prints of yet more bears. We had seen Daddy bear`s prints. Now, I saw Mummy bear`s and baby bear`s (see print with small plant for size comparison - cute baby bear) and also somewhat strangely there was adolescent bear`s print, and this animal was keeping Mummy and Baby bear company. Was it that it was actually 2 babies.. one big and beefy and one runty little thing? or was it that the mother bear was looking after a half grown bear that didn`t belong to her? I had heard that a shepherd had found a baby bear in this area, and taken it to Stournaeika to show it off. Apparently the mother had rampaged down to Stournareika madly searching for her baby, and had destroyed lots of human property, before sense prevailed in the village, and the baby was put where the mother could find it, whereupon the ravaging stopped and she and her baby returned to the mountain. But maybe another female bear had found him before his mother? Maybe the mother had given up and gone before the baby was put up on the mountain for her to find, and the female, whose prints I was now seeing had rescued him, even though she was pregnant with her next baby? Whatever.. it was just an odd combination..mother bear, tiny baby and not so small but not adult bear. ( I came back and took the photos the next day, as there wasn`t enough light as we passed them)

The track got lovelier and lovelier. It was grassy and soft. George was really travelling because the surface suited him so well. So it was a bit of a blow when we came to a locked barrier. Usually I approve of these, as they mean that only people who have proper reasons to get into the forest can get in. However this was functioning back to front. I mean, we hadn`t had any trouble getting IN to this protected area, but now we couldn`t get out. It was nearly dark. It was at least 10 kms to the meadow George had rejected. waaaaaaaaaagh!!!!

There was a narrow gap besidethe gate. If I took all George`s tack off he might be able to squeeze through. He could.

Then tired as I was I had to retack George, and we travelled on. George was well pissed off. Taking his stuff off is a sure sign that he`s going to get a rest. What did I mean by tacking him up again?

Luckily within half an hour we had found the ideal camp site.

The birds were doing an impromptu evening chorus. Birds on this mountain do that when its going to rain very hard. I know that now. At the time I was just charmed by the glory of their song.

George, who had sniffed at some bear tracks, and shown no alarm at all, began now to show signs of disquiet. He started staring into the gloom in an annoying moronic way. His eyes were popping out wildly. The real danger in the forest near Pertouli , you understand, is that it is infested with bambies.

Some untouristic places

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.

biodiversity? what`s that? Oh ,something blind progress is designed to destroy.

We had a few adventures in Petrilio. I was very very tired after Niala and so when a dear little white mare emerged from the undergrowth near the road and tried to kick the shit out of George, I was in no real state to hold on to my temper. Petrilio is a diffuse village, made up of several hamlets. So, the first one we got to,with the mare following, I shouted for help. George was in a state of excitement and fear.. the kind of fear that is accompanied by admiration.. George is a low status horse, he always accepts a lowly position in the herd – except in the herd made up of him and me, where he constantly labours to get top position-and other horses always recognise this, and generally thrill him and terrify him by being dominant.
Obviously getting kicked isn`t nice, and whatever the mare wanted George to do to show subservience he couldn`t do because he couldn`t run away because I was holding on to him. So her plan was to show him who was boss. My shouts were answered when several blokes emerged from a café.
“She`s a good little horse she won`t do anything! She just wants to be friends! She`s lonely,!” They said
All of these things were true. And poor little thing she had been isolated for so long that she had no idea how to behave with other horses. It wasn`t her fault. BUT George was in danger. So like tigress defending cubs I turned on the astonished nice old men, telling them that she already HAD done something and would certainly do real damage if they didn`t do something.This wasn`t all I told them either.
Someone caught her and tied her up. George and I made good our escape . I don`t think I`d better go back to that part of Petrilio.
The next morning we went up the road til we came to where the E4 crosses it. I had a choice of where to go. I didn`t take either of the routes I had been intending to take. (a photo of the mountain I had originally intended to cross.. and no doubt SHOULD have crossed is posted.)
We stopped for lunch and while I was wandering about looking at the stupendous nature up there (see photo of orchids) I saw a sign that said “Lake Plastira”
I usually avoid very “developed” tourist areas because often their character has been destroyed, or they are full of people so you don`t see any nature. Also, of course, many beautiful places become clichés-not their fault, but clichés non the less.
I went to Egypt with a friend, and he really didn`t want to visit the pyramids for this very reason. I didn`t accept those reasons for not seeing the pyramids, and so, I felt, it was hardly right not to see Plastira. Because everybody likes something doesn`t mean its not beautiful, and interesting, after all.
We set off up the very steep track that said it went to Plastira. Sure enough, it did.
It was a fabulous day and the view was wonderful.
“I was right to come here.” I thought.
I met a guy who had just brought his sheep up to the mountain. He sold local products in a shop in a village near the lake he said. Better and better.. he produced his own cheese and added value by selling them to tourists directly through his own shop.Sustainable development in action. Giving local people the chance to stay in their place, and a chance to escape from the poverty and hopelessness of being a small farmer.
Perhaps Plastira was working for everyone.

The newly arrived sheep were sitting on the track in a state of confusion. They didn’t know where they were, or what to do there. The thing to do, they thought was to hang out and chew the cud for a while. They really didn’t want to move to let us pass. Two or three dogs barked at us, but the sheep stayed hunkered down. Then a large white dog rose up from their midst. By lying there still he had given them the confidence not to move. As soon as he moved, the sheep made way for us.
Eventually, after a dramatic descent, the track joined an asphalt road. We reached the village of Pezoula. There, apparently, you could visit a working water mill (done up with EU money) there was a café and a taverna ( grants from eu) and a shop. You could rent rooms. I didn`t want a room (just as well as they were closed) but I did need to buy food for me and for George. I passed by some women who were doing something with sheep. (This in the village) The stared at me with suspicion.
“You! What are you?”
“Where did you get that horse?”
“Where are you from?”
All using the singular form of “you” which is very rude.
I finally found the shop. There was a woman there who condescended to sell me some biscuits and other things from a mouldering supply of long past its usebydate stock she had.
Yes, the restaurant was open, she said. It looked closed to me.
But I went there.
“We`re closed” Snapped a very unpleasant fellow who had been watching telly with his mates. They were cooking something for themselves.
These places that get help from the state and the eu are supposed to stay open. He has been closed for 2 months he said. And the other place was also closed.
The woman in the shop had told me that the people who had the watermill (the same as had the sheep,) would sell me some corn for George. So I stopped there.
“Get out of here, NOW!” said the old woman.
“Don`t you dare speak to me like that!” I said.
“We don`t want your kind here”
“And what kind is that?”
Foreign. That’s`s what.
Well I was beside myself with fury and went to the absolutely unvisited by tourist water mill.
“It is a disgrace for your village that people talk like that to foreigners” I said. “You have taken foreign money, you can`t exclude foreigners.
Shame on you”! I said. “Shame on you!”
I went on down the hill til I got to Kalivia of Pezoula. Here, the horrid old man in the café in Pezoula had told me, I would find food.
I camped and walked towards the lights of the village. I passed a garage. The guy there told me that there were lots of tavernas, and I would certainly find food. This was a lie told to get rid of me.
In fact I found the shop of my friend who had the sheep up on the mountain. This did not sell cooked food but I bought cheese etc.He took his business seriously. He was trying to do a proper job. But everything he did was undermined by the unprofessional work of those all around him. There was about 8 tavernas and cafes all new, all paid for by us taxpayers, and not one open. I have put a photo of one. Here two guys were oafishly watching football. They were closed they said.. though the effort to make a salad and fry some eggs would not have been great. I could go to the next village they said. How far? 2 1/2 kms they said. It was actually, as I found out the next day at least 5 kms.. and you can verify this from the map. And yet this guy felt it was fine to suggest I walked another 10 kms. I had explained to him that I had walked at least 20 kms that day, and had travelled about 40. I obviously exhausted.
So I am posting a photo of that taverna. You`ll know not to go there.
I asked what had happened to the famous Greek hospitality.
We`ve lost our Psychi he said. The only true thing he did say.
When I asked what he would do if it turned out I was a writer, and this lack of hospitality became widely known, he said “If you were a journalist you would have contacted the Dimarchos, and he would have made sure that there was a place open..”
Which is exactly what happens, at every level, up to government level. EU inspectors are coming? Everything is as it should be. Or its someone else`s fault.
For eg, it was my fault I couldn’t get anything to eat. I wasn`t important.
How different from the attitude that a dear old lady expressed when I thanked her for her help- in a traditional old village, many miles from Plastira.
“But we are happy to help people” she said “any visitor may be Christ himself. And who would want to turn Him away?”
Almost everyone in Pezoula is the answer to that.
That I was subject to racist abuse was my fault for being foreign, I suppose.


Along from that taverna there was a periptero.
There was a lovely chap in there. I asked him if he was local. Yes he said. Why do you ask?
I told him about the harridan in Pezoula -of all my troubles. He kindly sat me down and gave me a lemonade. Told me not to worry about racist oldladies and lazy goodfornothing taverna owners. After a while I felt strong enough to go back to camp.
The next morning I packed up and set off to follow the track my map told me went along the shores of the lake. I called in at the shop of my sheepowning friend. He told me that because the lake was so high, the track was submerged. I hadn`t actually seen the lake from close, but I asked where to go to do so. George was photographed outside the shop. The photo is on his website. I went to pay my respects to the guy in the periptero, and then went on down a road to the lake shore. I found myself in an odd place.. I later found out that it is going to be for processing water for big hotels on the mountain side.. chlorine and everything. There will be no more buildings on this site. The reason such a HUGE area of pasture has been scraped up is not easy to understand. Apparently the land has been donated by the Dimarchio,and so they needed to “clear” it. Er why?
Some rudimentary atavistic knowledge has meant that “trees” have not been cleared. By trees I mean oaks. Hawthorn and wild pear do not count as trees so are cleared.
Even among the educated middle classes in Greece there is an unhappy lack of knowledge about biodiversity. I have personal reasons to regret this, because this ignorance cause me a great deal of upset in the so called editing of the Greek version of my book for Arkturos. Changes were made to the text so that it is now peppered with errors. The changes were made as a result of faulty assumptions about how the environment works. They expressed a way of thinking that hasn`t been current in environmental theory in the rest of Europe since the 1970s. And yet, in 2010 it is still taken as mainstream by a member of the intelligentsia, who works at the university, and has been involved with environmental education for many years. So, we can hardly be surprised that grasslands and wild trees are treated with such lack of respect by ordinary members of the public.After all we can`t expect them to be more educated than the people who are supposed to be educating them… Not being surprised is one thing though. Not being worried and upset by it is quite another.
The grass by the lake was lovely. The place(apart from the part made desert by order of the Dimarchos) was so full of life that I went into a kind of ecstasy. I just unpacked George and set about exploring this extraordinary place.
The main interest was in insects that live near water. I had just heard that in China women who have a career instead of having a family are called dragonflies. This awakened an interest in these fierce beautiful insects, and I have posted a couple of photos. Since I haven`t got a career, and also am not a lethally effective killer, like dragonflies are, I decided I am not a dragonfly ,even though I haven`t got a husband and family.
I spent the whole day in a kind of dream. The patches of thyme were actually crawling with so much life that they were in constant motion. Butterflies fluttering, bees fumbling for pollen, all kinds of small forms of life swarming over the flowers. Quite extraordinary.
I also watched damselflies. These are beautiful in a less sharklike way than dragonflies. These were laying eggs and pairing..
Barbie doesn`t know about sex..well at least is she does its not because of Ken, the boyfriend you can buy for her, because, the last I heard, he lacks the equipment needed for such activities , and so probably she would be shocked by the lascivious behaviour of these insects, even though their lovely colours do dazzle and attract like jewels, and are the colours that attract Barbie..
The next morning I went prospecting for more nature and I found a female tortoise digging a hole for her nest. She started early,as soon as it was warm enough to get her vital systems working. From the photo you can see how VERY unsuitable a tortoise`s construction is for hole digging. But she doggedly kept on, digging with her hind legs, for hours. By midday it became too hot for her, and she had to abandon her task and seek shade. In the evening she would return and finish the job.
On the ride I found many tortoise nests. You can locate them because when the tiny tortoises hatch you can find the egg shells near the surface of the ground. I greatly fear that many of these nests had been predated, and the tortoises had been eaten before they hatched. The nests of turtles on the Greek sea shores are very often predated by dogs, and foxes are much better hunters than dogs…
At about midday we set off in the direction of Musaki. All along the road were new hotels and cafes and restaurants. All new. Many already shoddy.
All empty. All paid for by me and you.

By evening we got to Musaki. Sanity. A real place with real people and proper respect for themselves and therefore others. I can`t tell you how glad I was to be there.

saika

Woke up refreshed at the monastery near Nereida. Just the view (see photo of wet grass) was a bit dispiriting. Had been raining for SUCH a long time. I mean, I know we need rain and so on, but couldn`t it stop for a day or so so I could dry my stuff?
Or perhaps its God punishing us, though he did say, Fire the next time. Of course a couple of years ago he DID send fires , to Greece at least, but no one took any notice.So maybe he`s trying floods again.
Just then I looked up, and I saw a bird, some kind of dove, I think. It was carrying something in its beak..I got my bins..it was carrying an olive branch..now why would a dove do that?
Looked at the mountainside where we were supposed to be going.. yes! the rain had stopped enough to see the track..next thing the sun would be out.. well maybe not..I did know exactly how those people on the ark felt though, a break in the grey sky, a shaft of sunlight.. an end to that ceaseless pissing sound of rain falling on wet ground. I emphasised with those old testament persons, something I didn’t really expect ever to be able to do.
Vassili had told me that the way I needed to go would take me to Saika. We looked on my map. We looked on his map. No Saika at all. Another place that has been arbitrarily renamed. The villagers still defiantly think it is called Saika (see photo) and indeed it does exist. Its just that those who know about these things consider Saika to be a Slavic name, and so they renamed it Petralona. As if we don`t already have enough Petralonas.
And so, when you try to find Saika on the map, you can`t. And when you try to find Petralona in the mountains near Agrapha you can`t.
I stayed the night in an empty monastery at Saika, and the next day, set off, as directed by Georgo, a lawyer from Athens, along a small track to a mountain called Niala. And very very very spectacular it was too. Especially at first when I could see it. By lunch time there was thunder, but before we got soaked took refuge in a church high up in the sheep grazing land, called, not surprisingly, Profitis Ilias.
Checked my bins.mmm. lenses a bit grubby. Maybe I was wrong about the olive branch.
So the rain was awful. It paused every now and then, and I thought of making a run for the next village (called Vraigiana. Careful though..there are two of them, and this is the one that the map makes the smaller of the two, even though its full name in Megalo Vraigianna.) However, on the ridge, dimly visible from time to time through the downpour and mist, was where 40 andartes froze to death during the war. As we know andartes were pretty tough. So somehow that ridge seemed very threatening to me. I am used to getting soaked and frozen, and it would only have been for a couple or three hours, but I decided it would be better to wait out the storm in the church.
This nearly wasn`t possible. A shepherd turned up in his Datsun. He had come, he said, to lock the church for the night. I asked him to not lock it, as 40 people had already died of exposure on Niala, and surely he didn`t want to make in 41+ a horse?
He agreed that this wouldn`t be a Christian thing to do. Then I got involved in the kind of conversation that women readers will recognise as being rather scarey.
“We are both grownups” he said, and my heart sank “ tell me, what do you do if men get…no need for me to explain what I mean..”
I wondered how I had got into this conversation and wondered how to get out of it.
After some time I managed to get rid of this person without getting thrown out of the church. But its so annoying and, yes, threatening, when someone who seems like a nice shepherd, turns in to a very dodgy prospect indeed.
The next morning the sun shone and everything was beautiful.
The ridge seemed completely unthreatening. Considerably less of a trial than the shepherd who I had met as a result of being afraid to tackle the ridge.
When we got to the spot where there is a placque in memory of the resistance fighters we met four young men who were attempting to cross the track in a 4X4. They had got out of the car and climbed to the memorial. We got chatting, and they asked why I was walking. I explained that since I hadn`t been able to find corn for George, I felt that he needed to save calories so he wouldn`t lose weight.
I`ve got a packet of biscuits, said one man, helpfully. Well a packet of cream crackers wouldn’t do much for George, but it`d do a lot for me..
“YES!!” I said. The guy still thought the biscuits were for George, and started feeding them to him. “No no give them to ME!!” I said. George got grass to eat, but I haven`t had anything”
So In front of the four young men I ate the packet of biscuits, wrappings and all, in one gulp.
Just then George looked up. A mountaineer walking up to the peak. In the distance 4 others. Niala was getting like Picadilly circus.
The top of the ridge was snowy and the weather started to turn bad. We were well on our way down to Vragianna before it got really bad though.
In Vragianna we got a lovely meadow for George and a fantastic meal for me. Then we went on to Petrilo, where we spent the night.