I was woken by a strange whizzing sound. When I peered out of the tent I was amazed to see one of the German caravaners sweating it out on an exercise bike. This made no sense to me. If you’re going to drive all that way, why not bring a real bike? There are plenty of nice quiet roads around, of various difficulty, and with great views on all sides. Mind you, he had a shiny new moped parked nearby. None of my business of course, I just found it curious.
It wasn’t a particularly friendly vibe at that campsite, so I just packed up and left, without breakfast. This decision would haunt me later.
My first stop was for a swim at the sunken city of Epidaurus, just off the existing, ancient town. I had no snorkeling gear so I didn’t find any treasure, but I was surrounded by darting fish that were not afraid to tickle me. It was almost sensual. Almost.
I then peddled to the Little Theatre of Epidaurus nearby, which was closed for renovation, but impressive nonetheless. There are some ancient tombs in the vicinity, but I decided to keep focus and make a beeline for the larger, definitely more famous Ancient Theatre of the Asklepieion, about 25km away.
The whole journey was uphill, not very steep, but it required sustained effort in the baking, static heat. It wasn’t long before I regretted skipping breakfast. I simply ran out of energy, and drinking water alone only made things worse as I sweated out my salts. Passing trucks and busses, spewing huge amounts of black diesel exhaust, made it all the more unpleasant. I stopped frequently, also to take snaps of the many dollhouse chapels along the way.
So I wasn’t surprised to arrive late, but not before buying a 4kg bag of ice at a garage. Stuffing the cubes into my water bottles, it wasn’t long before they melted, and I spent a while under the shade of a tree sipping dissolved electrolyte tablets while eating the only salty food I could buy there: cheesy biscuits. I lashed the bag of ice to my bike, and it came in very handy!
When I finally arrived at the amphitheater I reluctantly paid the 12 euro entrance fee. I mean, it’s amazing and all, but the price of entry is extortionate. Somebody is clearly coining it.
There weren’t many people there, but strangely they were mostly whispering amongst themselves, as if afraid that the world- renowned acoustics of the place would spill their secrets to the universe. I was having none of it. I didn’t come this far not to make a noise…
Prizes for spotting the source of this quote!
On leaving, I passed a large hotdog stand, which was the only place serving food. Needing a decent shot of salt, I ordered a hotdog. Normally I wouldn’t touch the things, but I was desperate so paid the Euro 4.70 asking price. It was pure dogshit: a stale, hard bun and a cold sausage, nothing else. After one bite I asked for my money back. Chaos ensued. Not only did he refuse to refund me, he actually called the police!
I didn’t know this until the cop car pulled-up. I thought they might have quizzed me on why I’m cycling around during a pandemic, but they didn’t give a shit, and indeed seemed to give the owner the third degree, in Greek, for wasting their time. I called him a crook and I was very reluctantly given 3 Euro back, which I regarded as a symbolic victory. See, I am stubborn!
I was then presented with a quandary: take the long way on back roads to a campground south of Nafplio, or head straight there via the main highway. I scanned the surrounding mountains. Seeing a huge ascent on the backroads, I took my chances on the highway, and I’m glad I did.
Taking a detour to a supermarket to load-up on sandwich ingredients and chocolate milk, I gave myself a huge energy boost which allowed me to travel the 27km to Nafplio in just under an hour. I finally felt that I was moving. This tour is underway!
Cycling on Greek highways is not illegal, but I suspect this is because nobody ever does it, and they just haven’t gotten around to legislating for it. Nevertheless I was slightly worried that I might be pulled over. But, apart from the odd honk from a bemused motorist, all went smoothly and I could avail of the generous hard shoulder.
Arriving in Nafplio shortly after 4pm I immediately fell in love with the place. What a gorgeous town! Immersed in history and not afraid to express it, without being tacky. The tiny streets immediately made me feel welcome. I stopped to have a freshly squeezed pear juice, resolving right then to stay the night. A cute little hotel duly obliged.
After dumping my bags I headed for the local swimming hole, which was a sight to behold.
Lolling around in the deep water was pure bliss and, floating nonchalantly with face to the sky, I found myself selfishly hoping that a new lockdown would be announced tomorrow. I would then have the perfect excuse to stay here for the duration.
In any case, I’m definitely coming back to Nafplio. And soon.
In the meantime I decided to stay a few days. My plan was always to explore Argos and Mykines, just north of here, but now I can leave the bags at the hotel and really zip around between the ancient tombs.
Later, I had dinner outside a tiny side-street restaurant, then headed to the waterfront to sip fresh margaritas served with slices of melon and nectarine. Just perfect! Such a relaxed atmosphere, I even enjoyed the Bossa-Nova versions of Britney Spears’ greatest hits. Hit me baby one more time 🙂
There are few tourists here, but they seem older and more cultured than the island hoards. I chatted with a Dutch couple on honeymoon then flitted back to the hotel. I haven’t felt this contented in years, possibly ever.
Life is good. I know I’m a lucky bastard, but I’m not going to waste it. It doesn’t hurt that all the women here are beautiful! 😍
Today’s Route: