DAY 14: A visit to Hades

Wednesday and Saturday mornings in the city centre, Kalamata residents swarm into the market place, a vibrant stretch of colorful stands. Not a single word of English is spoken, and JJ and I were the obvious outsiders in this ritual of Greek culture (ok, maybe it was my camera that gave it away). As we meandered from stall to stall in amazement, vendors tried to catch our attention by talking loudly, no doubt trying to promote their prized produce, but it was all in vain, as (regardless of the volume) neither of us understood a word.

If the excessive amount of citrus groves overridden with ripened oranges didn't give it away, the numerous orange stands announced the arrival of orange season. The local orange crop, splayed along the fringes of the highway and decorating inner city streets, provides a substantial portion of the current market stock, and JJ and I (lacking our typical orange stash we've been lugging around) decided to invest in a few. The stall we plucked our oranges from had every variety imaginable, and we each filled a plastic bag with the best oranges we could find. I was a bit suspicious of JJ's bag, however, as she has a particularly keen ability to subconsciously pick the worst fruit available, as evidenced by her daily bruised apple in the dining hall...

Upon weighing our bags, the vendor and JJ negotiated the price. And by negotiated, I mean we had no idea what the original total he stated was, so JJ tried to hand him a €20 note, which he said was too big (in hand gestures, of course). After digging out the change from her wallet, JJ tried to hand him a variety of coins, totalling somewhere between €5 and €8 (I wasn't paying too much attention, not that this detail is really important). He picked out €1.50 from the coins in her palm, and proceeded to give her an unknown amount of change, one coin at a time. We had accrued enough oranges to last us a few days (we tend to collectively eat about 6 oranges a day) at a fraction of the commercial price, but decided to explore the market a bit further, as it had taken much less time than we thought it would.

It's impossible to convey the environment, but if the market was a river, it would be swelling at the banks about to flood. Perhaps the funniest stall we came across was in the fresh seafood niche, which had a distinguishable stench seeping into the main walkway. I was merely trying to get a few pictures of the spread of ocean creatures before us when the butcher made her way over to us to inquire as to what we were interested in. Unable to say that we didn't really want anything, just to take a picture, she interpreted JJ's hand motions as 'please let us take stupid pictures with your fish', and proceeded to grab an octopus and shove it into JJ's hand. At this point, I was dying laughing, while JJ was trying to avoid the impending Kodak moment. Needless to say, JJ was forced to hold the octopus and smile. On an even funnier note, there was no way for her to rinse the slime off, much less wash her hands.

Following our market adventure, we set off to find the Caves of Diros, two hours south along the same winding coastal stretch the we drove the day before. After some creative navigating on JJ's behalf (she refused to follow signs... don't ask me why), we made it out of the imbroglio of Greek drivers in Kalamata proper and hit the highway. Pedal to the metal, we made it to the caves and beelined to the bathrooms. That might not matter to you, but it was an urgent matter at the time.

A handful of Euros and a short drive later, we bailed out of the car and waited for the next tour group to enter. You may be wondering why we would pay for a tour of caves when typically, one enters the cave and follows the footpath to the exit at a leisurely pace. But, these were no ordinary caves—upon entering the mouth of the cave, the damp footpath leads to a dimly lit landing stage for a fleet of blue boats. As water dripped on us from overhead, we were instructed (we think... it was in Greek) to get in the boat our guide pointed to. We eagerly took the front seats and our adventure along the River Styx was about to begin, with a modern day Charon to punt us towards the underworld.

The boat wobbled as we lurched into narrow passageways and around tight bends in the waterway. Soda straws, ribbons, stalactites, stalagmites, and columns filled the cave and were so near that I often found myself leaning sideways into JJ to avoid being smacked in the head. JJ, as tense in the boat as I am in the car, thoroughly enjoyed my displeasure at the water that dripped constantly down my back and onto my head, as her side of the boat tended to be drier. At various intervals, the deep voice of our guide echoed through the cave, creating an all too realistic atmosphere, accentuated by a Cerberus shaped column at one point. We (once again) had no idea what he was saying, but the couple behind us informed us that one of the chambers we drifted through had water depths exceeding 30m. After another series of low arches and tight channels, the boat was turned around and we jolted into the landing stage. Watch a part of our tour! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=se6AK4UnTcA) Ignore the clicking sounds... that's just my camera trying to focus...

We proceeded to munch on our lunch (including fresh strawberries and salted cashews from the market) sitting on the edge of the pier in the cove where the caves were conveniently located, then hopped in the car in search of a beach. As we drove south, we planned on taking a side road to the town farthest west of the Taygetos mountains which loomed to the east—we assumed that being the farthest, it must be the most beach-like. After finding the correct road, following it into a small village along the way, and winding up in someone's driveway on a cliff edge, we deserted that plan and headed back to the main road.

The twists and turns of the highway south led us past many a scenic view of the rocky coast, but not a single sandy beach was found and our gas tank began to empty without a gas station (or town) in sight. As the road neared it's end, we came across a sign (which I found hilarious) for the 'LAST Gas Station'. Needless to say, we pulled in and one of the men that had been sitting in front walked over to help us, as all of the gas stations in Greece are full service (or maybe women aren't allowed to pump their own gas? We don't know what Greek women do, we haven't actually seen any outside of restaurants and grocery stores). Oh, did I forget to mention that we only had €16 in cash? About this time, we (JJ) didn't care that the gas was the most expensive we'd seen the entire trip, at €1.79 a liter.

'If they don't take card, we can try to sell them oranges.'

Only slightly amused by my suggestion, JJ dealt with the transaction—which, fortunately, was paid for on credit card. With a full tank of gas, we continued south for the final 20k of the road, which ended in a sandy beach! Success! I am definitely the best navigator JJ could have asked for. However, clouds had rolled in and the wind had picked up, and neither of us were up for a swim in the cold water. We (JJ) turned the car around and we sped off to find ourselves another castle!

About an hour later, we found ourselves on yet another tightly cornered road on a cliff (this seems to be a trend) which led to a castle, also on a cliff (the same cliff, to be exact). Not as impressive as Paleokastro, yet still pretty cool, this castle was difficult to explore, as the inner walls had all deteriorated into large piles of rock, surrounded by knee high grasses and wildflowers. It was also no surprise that the locals had also gone to the trouble to plant olive trees within the castle walls. After conquering the western and southern ramparts, we decided to venture to the northern wall which bordered the gorge. This was no easy task, as JJ was wearing flipflops, I am prone to trip, and the 'path' was barricaded by a mess of trees, undergrowth, and the remains of former buildings.

Whilst the northern expedition did not involve stinging nettles, a less avoidable barrier slithered its way between the two of us as we neared the final portion of the trek. I, for one, have an immense hatred of snakes, and JJ was not terribly keen on blindly marching through (in flipflops) what we now realised was an area that potentially harboured more of our scaled companions. As neither of us were familiar with the local snake varieties, and could not identify the third member of our exploration party (much less see the entire thing—there was low visibility due to its chosen path inbetween large rocks and thick bushes), we chose to end our quest and begin the journey back to the hotel. Lame. I hate snakes.

Lemons larger than my fist!

JJ was not a fan of this road. I rolled down the window and enjoyed the views.

Like I said, it was hard to find a place where they use credit cards...

The 'courtyard' of the Kelefa castle

Oh, there were cactus in the courtyard too.

Chillin in a Turkish castle tower. As we do.

DAY 13: THIS IS.......Sparta?

The way back  to Kalamata.

After waking up and having our fabulous breakfast (I ate about ¾ of the bowl of rice pudding and cinnamon they put out—it was a relatively small bowl, don't judge), and chatting with a couple from Canada who had come down from Nafplio via Sparta and said the road was “pretty rough” through there (what wusses said Katie), we set off in search of the city-state of those famous killing machines.

We sped (I sped) into Kalamata and the road took us through the town center, further back from the beachfront that we had initially driven through on our way down.  Though stressful—not as much as today, but that will be in the next blog—with all of the maniac traffic, we made it through and were quickly above Kalamata into the foothills.  I may need to clarify that: these Taygetos mountains come straight into the water, so the foothills were several hundred feet high.  We were immediately stuck behind a slow moving truck carrying God knows what, but I quickly bypassed him during the ascent.  We reached the top of this foothill in good cheer, until Katie began laughing: she had looked over the side we were coming to and saw the series of extremely tight switchbacks that dropped us down into the gorge between two huge peaks, that we realized we would need to climb out of again, according to the distant road's route.  This was the point where we found out that Baby Splash's breaks squeal when I apply them while turning.  It wasn't pleasant.

But the scenery certainly was.  The mountain range is huge; and we've seen the Sierras and Rockys. There was one point, when we were climbing out towards the very top of the range when we turned the corner to see the snow covered peaks apparently directly in our path, at which point we had a minor panic attack, until the road seemed to drop off the side of the mountain and head down into a gorge instead of following its path towards the snow.  Baby wouldn't do well with snow.  After many more ups and downs (quite literally—not only do I watch for the oncoming traffic that is choosing our lane instead of theirs, but the potholes need to be avoided, and the occasional pulling over to the side to let an impatient Greek (male) driver pass also needs to happen), we finally spilled out into the Spartan valley.  We stopped to get gas, only to find they did not take credit card and I only had 20 euro on me, so we went from about a quarter tank to a little over a half, which has actually lasted us until halfway through today (the day after).  We went into Sparta to look for a cash point and find a grocery store which we could use for food.  I really liked Sparta as a city, and would definitely stay in this side of the mountains if I ever get a chance to come back.

After trying a couple places, we finally found a food source (we were getting nervous about our lack of lunch) and returned to the car where we debated where to go.  Guide book said Spartan ruins weren't that great, which makes sense seeing as they had no need for defensive walls—they were that fiesty—so most of it is just jumbled rock. However, it also suggested an alternative which we took: back down the road 5k to Mystra, where there was a Byzantine complex and older castle on a hillside.  So off we went, heading back west, with the entire display of the mountain range and the snow covered hills that we had just passed through (in an intense 90 minute drive) on display with wildflowers for our own benefit.

We found the Mystra complex easily enough; it was literally up a stand alone hill/small mountain, with the gorgeous Byzantine church arches and domes littered throughout the enclosed area.  The guide book suggested parking at the bottom, taking the fortress road route to the top, and then returning  to your car by going downhill through the enclosure.  So that's what we did.

The road—which was a normal, drivable road—took us about 40 minutes to climb, almost straight up.  We're into finding hills and climbing them, in case no one noticed this, especially after our Pylos exercise.  During this, it began to rain a little, which was the most welcome precipitation in the world, seeing as the climb made us quite warm.  When we finally reached the upper gates that were located right below the castle proper we stopped and had our amazing pesto-ham-cheese-wheat bread sandwich which we had gotten the ingredients for in the market.  Katie read in the guide book that food within the walls was forbidden, so we enjoyed our well earned meal.

Finishing, we entered and immediately climbed up the extra height to the castle, which wasn't as nice as the one the day before, but provided spectacular views, both of the valley with modern day Sparta stretching out like a large white spider across the plain, and then the snowcapped Taygetos mountains rising mere kilometres behind us.  After a near fall by Katie through a unstable step, we decided that it was a wise move to leave quickly (but carefully!) and check out the Byzantine part. If we thought the outsides were well preserved, the insides were even more spectacular.  The frescos, though slightly damaged by time and some invasion or another, were incredible, depicting scenes of the Bible—as is fitting for a Byzantine church—and Christ's life.  At one point, we were on a path that was nearly walking on the roof of the small mini-church below us and we may or may not have climbed down through the ancient bell tower.  The bell was long gone, but in its place, a pair of owls had made their nest.  And, like every single animal species we have seen so far, decided to bring out their newborn offspring to see the world, just for us.  If you've never seen baby owls, you're missing out on life.  After that, we made our way down the (very very) steep hill, stopping at the other houses and ruins along the way, ending at the very bottom, just where we had parked the car.

Just kidding.  Stupid lady at the gate (we broke our no swearing for Lent rule at about this point...well, we put it on indefinite hold for the entire driving phase of this expedition, but it was taken advantage of at this point) said they were closed because it was 25 to three and we needed half an hour to get down the hill, and they closed at 3 exactly, locking the gates. I can't even describe our disappointment. After all that. AND NO BABY OWLS.

So...we headed back down the enormous hill-mountain and took tons of photos along the way, feeling slightly better that we could see the entire thing, so knew exactly what we were missing.  We may have made excursions up to the walls to see if we could get in—Katie says she turned around at one point, thinking I had gone back to the road, only to find me speeding off to where I could see a hole in the wall to see if we could get through.

We couldn't.  And then it rained some more; not a welcome one at this point. The gods were just laughing and pleased with themselves for adding to our misery.

Back at the bottom we began our trek home, not through the mountain pass, but down to the bottom of the valley and back over around the end of the range.  We “flew” along to quote Katie—this also being the point where she decided that I had become “too comfortable driving here”--and got stunning panoramics of the entire range. Well, Katie said it was stunning; I have no idea really.  The road was nice; less potholes, and lots of straight bits where I learned how to coax Baby Splash into overtaking large trucks.

The crossover back to our side of the peninsula was on the bottom of a valley, gorgeous with the afternoon sun.  We came to a part with naturally terraced hillsides and I tried explain about the “Mani”--the part of this area that is supposed to be similar to the Scottish highlands (no joke, that's what all the books said).  And then we proceeded around the bend to a sign that stated that we were entering the Mani.  We continued through rolling mountains with rocks sticking up everywhere until we reached the other side and started up the coast again.  I can't even explain how a) beautiful it was with the afternoon light and the baby blue/turquoise water b) nerve racking the road was being on the cliff face hundreds of feet in the air c) how spectacular the mountains coming immediately into the sea and d) how much it felt like we were flying with the bay and small villages spread out below us was.  We marvelled at why no tourists came this way ever; it was incredible, especially with the explosion of wild flowers that covered the hillsides and the small, Byzantine-styled villages that the main road (which would be considered a one way street in the States) split through.

We took our time, stopping to take pictures of various coves, deciding that we would come back the next day to visit the area below where we had cut across from the Sparta valley. I was going along perfectly fine, until a (superfoxyfinegorgeous dark blue/black) Audi sped by us.  In my excitement as seeing the snazzy car, not to mention the techno/rave music that our radio station was playing, I may have begun to go a wee bit faster.  When the road started to descend and the switchbacks returned (okay, let's be honest—halfway through the descent), I once again remembered (was resigned to the fact) that Baby Splash is certainly not an Audi, and his lil breaks tend to squeal.  We made it back to the hotel parking lot in one piece.

But the day STILL wasn't quite over. Katie wanted to eat out (we did need something substantial to consume) and so we went to the beach front street of Kalamata, and after an excellent parking job, if I do say so myself, we wandered until we found a little place with no one in it.  There, we ordered octopus as a starter (for fun and because it was only 8 euros) and I had chicken while Katie had really tasty lamb (5 euro each).  Octopus was grilled...and unexpectedly fantastic. We thought it would be rubbery and I had no idea that the suctions stayed ON when you ate it, but it actually was really dense and tasted yummy with lemon and some olive oil.  Our delight was compounded by the semi-attractive men who sat at the table behind Katie (the only remotely attractive ones we have seen in this entire country)...until they started smoking, at which point I gagged and Katie made a beeline to pay for food and we regrouped back outside.  Drove home in the twilight (at 8 p.m.) and I passed out while Katie finished writing the previous blog.

Where we thought the road was headed.

Preceding the free hanging cliff that arched over the road.

Byzantine church with the Castle at the top.

Sparta and its valley.

Retro shot.

The Mani.

The "two lane highway"

DAY 12: Unplanned Adventures

What is the point of renting a car if you stick to the roads that public transport uses? We couldn't figure out the answer either, so we decided to test out the off road capabilities our Suzuki Splash, aka 'Baby Splash', along the way to Pylos. As head navigator, I used JJ's guidebook to get us to the end of a dirt road in the middle of the mountains, where the Polilymnio Waterfalls were located. Note: this diversion from the main road was originally a casual suggestion by JJ as we were already en route to Pylos. Casually dressed in jeans and boots, I had been told we would be doing a bit of walking today, and the guidebook said that the waterfalls were, at the largest, 20m, so I figured I'd be fine for a quick look at some waterfalls.

As we descended the mountain by foot, due to lack of parking at the base, the olive groves around us were stunning; the silvery trees were surrounded by luscious grasses and innumerable wildflowers. It is mind boggling the lengths to which the Greeks will go just to plant an olive grove, as these groves were all accessible by car (unlike some we have seen), but incredibly inconvenient. The first waterfall we came across was about 3 feet high and ended in a sky blue pool of water that followed a stream back to the main river. As we moved onward, the path led to a picnic table and a bridge that was missing a few planks and spanned yet another, much larger waterfall. Thinking that the picnic table must have signified the end of the waterfalls, I was a bit unimpressed and we followed the trail a bit longer.

Since I was not exactly dressed for hiking, JJ volunteered to go around the bend in the trail and see if it was worth going onward. A few minutes later, I realised that she wasn't coming back, so forwards I went—and I did not regret it! Around the bend awaited a series of waterfalls cascading down the mountain face, beginning at the top with the largest waterfall which fed Kadoula Lake. Kadoula Lake, by the way, is 'named after it's shape'—anyone know what a Kadoula looks like??? After taking copious amounts of pictures of this waterfall, JJ decided to tackle the next stretch of the path, if you can call it a path. We set down the waterbottle, expecting to return within minutes.

Half an hour later, standing atop the sheer mountainside we had just scaled, we realised that probably hadn't been a great idea. Oh well, in the event that we really needed water, there was plenty of crystal clear water all around us (suspiciously labelled 'drinking water' further along the path...doubtful). A few treacherous leaps and bounds further along the path, we reached what we thought was the end of the waterfalls, only to find an ambiguous sign about a 'difficult to reach' lake and waterfall. Difficult? Psh. I had climbed that mountain in shoes with no tread. How hard could it really be?

JJ led the way again, walking along the plank (that we assumed was soundly mounted to the rock on which it skirted) to the edge of the waterfall. The path then repeated its previous trend of becoming mere iron footholds in a vertical 'trail'; however, this time, one of the footholds was literally in the waterfall and the only hand grip was an iron bar protruding from the top of the waterfall. Risky? Yes. Potentially severely harmful? Yes. Avoidable? Not really. We had come this far, so we might as well go the whole way! Call us a bit reckless, but after making it up the side of the waterfall and trekking through what we later realised was private land, we came upon the final lake. It was a bit anticlimactic, but we savoured our accomplishments nonetheless. After looping back another kilometer through yet more mountaintop olive groves, we reached the car, changed into our beach clothes, and retrieved the water bottle. On the drive back to the main road, JJ managed to avoid eviscerating the car as well. Success? I think so.

Following a quick lunch on the pier in Pylos, we headed north on yet another unmapped, semi-unplanned adventure. Which also involved a dirt road. It's a really good thing the car rental company wasn't tracking us...

Near Pylos, there is a lagoon that harbors many famous stretches of beach and is enclosed by a peninsula that is topped by ruins of a Turkish castle, 'newer' than another castle in the same area. As we drove to the end of the peninsula, we passed a few signs about Paleokastro being closed 'due to extreme danger', which didn't even phase JJ, who informed me that we were not visiting that area. After parking at the base of a massive peak, we followed the path to find the newer of the castles in the Pylos area, passing yet another sign stating that the 'Old Castle' was closed due to extreme danger.

Clad once again in my boots (but making a more fashionable statement in shorts instead of jeans) and JJ in her shorts and tennishoes, we began the ascent to the castle. The views along the seafront hike were absolutely breathtaking, and endless wildflowers blanketed the area. The trail was not as challenging as the morning jaunt had been, but nevertheless, I was wishing I had worn different shoes. Upon reaching the summit, and thus the castle, we traipsed around to explore the ruins. I happened to find a few stinging nettles along the way, and managed to find them again. And again. And broke out in hives. A bit more relevant finding, however, was the sign that described the ruins...titled 'The Old Castle'. Well that's good to know, now that we had climbed along the western walls and ventured under the half-collapsed arches. What exactly constitutes extreme danger? I had a good guess, as I once again found stinging nettles on the way out of the site. Forget the collapsing ruins, they certainly closed the site (not very well, might I mention...) due to hazardous overgrowth!

After descending the path that deceptively led us to Paleokastro, we were determined to reach Nestor's Cave and Vodoikila Beach—both (questionably) located at the base of the castle-crested peak. We followed the signs, uncertain of whether or not we would reach what we were searching for, so we set a time to turn back in the event that the signs were deceptive. We processed through the clouds of 'retarded Mediterranean mosquitoes' (as JJ referred to them) along the inner edge of the lagoon, doubting our progress at multiple intervals. As we reached a series of sandy dunes with no beach in sight, our doubt increased. Carry on? Why not.

At every opportunity possible, we looked from the top of each dune for any sign of the presumably picture perfect beach, along with the supposedly blatantly obvious cave, described as a 'gaping hole in the mountainside' in the guidebook. A few dunes later, glimpses of turquoise spurred us onwards. A few minutes later, and our efforts were rewarded, as we headed towards Vodoikila Beach. Without much time to spare for lounging about on the sand, JJ bolted up a small path that led to the cliff edge that enclosed the beach area. Lo and behold, to the south of the cliff was Nestor's Cave! Not terribly keen on entering a random cave as dusk was coming, we decided to snap a few more pictures and head back to the car.

Evasive driving along Greek highways had taught JJ a few tricks, and we once again made our way to paved roads unscathed. The ribbon of highway between Pylos and Kalamata was cast in a golden hew for the drive back to the hotel, and after an amazing but exhausting day, we called it an early night.

Dirt roads!!!

Baby survived...

Sketchy bridge, on top of a waterfall

And I thought this was the last one...

Definitely uncertain about the potential outcomes of this one...

Pylos

Turkish Castle!

The view from Paleokastro

Checking out the sheer drop from the ramparts

Mosquito Bay

Vodoikila Beach

Nestor's Cave

Just the morning's casual rock climb, you know.

DAY 11: Day of Surprises

Today was the day that I had been dreading all of Ireland: the drive from Athens to Kalamata in the south (look it up on a map and appreciate the mountain range that runs through the middle of the Peloponnese).

Let me start by saying the impression that I had gotten from all of the guidebooks, online info, etc. was that the roads are pretty bad, though they have been recently fixed up, and that the mountain passes are treacherous.  Good start to this trip.  But I was determined to visit as much as possible, and Katie was definitely up for it, so renting a car it was.

The night before our drive also happened to be the annual “spring forward” for Greece, which was an issue because our phones did not do it automatically, though we weren't positive about mine, which has been our alarm while travelling.  So...we set the alarm for 5:45, in case it  didn't set (which would be 6:45 in new spring time), and I definitely woke up around 5 in the morning in anticipation.

After getting our bags, we had already decided not to attempt a taxi to Syntagma square and instead braved the Metro.  It was actually a very lovely Metro and we navigated our way like locals (well, locals that heave around 14 kilo bags and 15 pound backpacks).

After getting back out to the airport (which is about 20k outside Athens), we found the car rental desk and got our paperwork sorted---and a free map, which our plan hinged on.  See, this was going to be done basically by memory: I had Googled the route enough to have become familiar and we could not buy a map beforehand, seeing as most are extremely inaccurate.  SO...by memory of a place we had never been before.  Our theory: when in doubt, head south.  Kalamata is at the bottom, on the coast, and there are only so many roads.  This theory stayed strong, as the map we were given wasn't particularly helpful and Katie ditched it about five minutes into the journey.

After being sorted, we trekked out to where the cars were parked and found ours...a baby Suzuki Splash (see pictures).  This was surprise number one.  Only Katie's bag fits in the back.  But it IS automatic, which is all I really cared about.  So we settled into our new ride and took off, albeit slowly.  I immediately abandoned the directions which I had painstakingly written down off Google the night before and started following the convenient road signs and what I could remember from riding the bus to Athens when we had first arrived. 

I knew we had to aim for Elefsina and follow the curve of the bay, staying on the main road for the majority of it.  Katie took some pretty cool pictures while I tried to figure out the speed limit and appropriate range for possibly exceeding it.  The half tank of gas was a slight worry that would have to be dealt with before the mountains, so we were on the lookout for gas stations.

The ride: the highway was glorious. Except for paying the tolls (about 12 Euro total; surprise #2).  At first we could see the bay with the island of Salamis in it (where I tried to explain the Battle of Salamis and all the cool naval fighting that happened...) and then neither of us remember passing over any canal through the isthmus before Corinth. But, we did pass right under the Acrocorinth, which is REALLY COOL, and the top of the steep rocky outcropping is still covered in ruins. Way too excited for driving the car.

After that, I paid more attention to the road, though constantly distracted by the scenery.  We drove through the heart of the mountains (still snow on some), which reminded Katie of home with their high desert feel.  Though many spring flowers are out, Greece is still a pretty rocky and sparse place.  In the middle of the mountain range we hit its very own microclimate of rain and fog, which was a surprise (#3?), though made for some starkly stunning scenery.

We finally came down from the mountains behind the valley of Messenia (you know, where all the Spartans had their helots who worked the fertile land for them while they paraded around fighting people.  Oh, you DIDN'T know?  Sorry...) and came into Kalamata proper, where Katie stated that my passive aggressiveness came out, as I failed to stop for tourists crossing from bars on one side of the marina front street to the beach on the other.  She was also slightly critical of the fact that I was going 30k over the speed limit—but in my defense, there was a line of cars behind me and people were passing on windy roads...it was my civic duty to speed!

We continued around the bay (which is gloriously surrounded by mountains; the one behind our hotel is incredibly high and looming, with its almost constant crown of fog at the very top) until we reached our base of operations for the next four nights—Akti Taygetos hotel.  We reached it in almost 3 hours exactly; a trip which I had alotted 4-6 hours on our itinerary (surprise!)  The hotel—supposedly a conference resort—is fine; I'm not terribly impressed with it for how much we're paying, but of course it beats sharing a room with six other girls in a hostel.  Especially unimpressed when we discovered, after exploring the premises, that the POOL WAS EMPTY (really upsetting surprise!).  Alright, we've come to accept that it is not exactly tourist season and that it is still pretty cool (though warm compared to jolly England), but still.  To be fair, we aren't planning on spending any time at all during the day in the hotel, so it's not really an issue in the slightest, but the fact that it was just an empty pool seemed to undermine our enthusiasm for the moment.

In light of this sad revelation, we crossed the main road (read: street) and took stairs down to the water's edge, a nearly hidden path that our helpful front desk lady, Angela, suggested for us.  There we attempted to walk along the rocky beach, squeezing between the chunks of cliff that had clearly fallen off and the water.  It was gorgeous to look at though; the water is as clear as bathwater, though slightly cooler than that technologically advanced invention.  After exploring for awhile we returned to our room to catch up on work and such, heading back out to our hidden cove later in time for the sunset, which peeked through the clouds and mountains across the bay to light up the sky.

We capped off the night by watching a movie—P.S. I Love You, which we had meant to watch in Ireland, but had been constantly pushed back until now.  Apparently, the majority of it had been shot in Wicklow, the county that Glendalough was in.  Katie made sly remarks about Irish boys who can sing, because she is so, so funny.

Acrocorinth ruins!

Toll booths are the devil

Random bridge

Pretty much summarizes the journey after we left the main highway

Akto Taygetos