Posts Tagged ‘exploring Greece’

Slow change

Wednesday, August 12th, 2009

One of the things that attracted us to this area of Greece was that it lacked significant tourist development. That’s not to say there was nothing, but it wasn’t unusual to drive through one coastal village that had shops selling essential beach kit and kitsch souvenirs then another, with equally good beach access, that had no such provisions or diversions. It was as if the second village had decided not to jump on the bandwagon, and to us it was really appealing that there didn’t seem to be this ‘me too’ attitude everywhere.

Ancient sites were usually under-promoted and often hard to find. A few explanatory notes if you were lucky, but at the smaller or more remote sites not even that. Maybe it’s a result of having so much ancient archaeology you’re falling over it, but again the feeling we got was that they weren’t making a big thing of it: come and look if you want, but don’t expect too much as we’ve seen it all before.

When we holidayed here it was always late season – usually mid-September – and we benefited from having good access to even the most popular tourist attractions. Ancient Olympia without crowds, for example, when it was possible to get pictures of the athletes’ tunnel without a tour guide’s umbrella emerging from it.

But the times they are a’ changin’

This last couple of weeks we’ve had family to visit and despite the August heat we wanted to show them some of the sights. Ancient Messini was a must. This fairly local site is a ‘work in progress’ and every time we visit there is more to see, but we’d never before encountered actual work taking place.  Since this was mid-August we can only guess it was academics working during their holidays. Or is it just that strange Greek quirkiness which means they work during the holiday season but not outside it I wonder?

There’s also evidence of EU money. On the positive side this means the site will continue to be excavated and developed. Eventually they’re likely to charge for entrance, although currently it’s still free. They may even put a toilet block at the entrance rather than back up on the main road by the museum. But on the negative side there is less access and more control than previously. Areas we’d been used to wandering over had been roped off and we were watched as we walked round.

Together with 3 children, aged 10, 9 and 4, I walked round the outside of a building in a wide channel that could have been a moat or water course. The little one was thirsty so I stopped and gave her a drink of water from my bag. I’d just packed the bottle away again when I heard a shrill whistle followed by a shout. Looking up I saw a woman beckoning us back onto the main path, where we were already headed.

As I got closer she shouted to me ‘You must not pick up anything from the ground’. I hadn’t, as I explained to her, but she just repeated her statement, seemingly not believing me. I wouldn’t mind, but the only thing ON the ground was dead grass. No artefacts, no ancient building blocks, nothing. And I wasn’t being furtive – I had taken the bottle out of my back and put it back in full view.

Having been ‘spotted’ as potential site robbers a discreet eye was kept on us for the rest of our visit. Not the most comfortable of situations.

Ancient Messini as we first saw it - without the crowds and security

Ancient Messini as we first saw it - without the crowds and security

Share This Post

The Price of Progress

Monday, May 18th, 2009

When you don’t have a job to go to the days can blur into one another. Weekends no longer have the significance they once did. But the downside of that is you don’t always designate ‘me’ or ‘us’ time – well we don’t. We can find ourselves doing something related to our website and blogs every day, and while it’s not as if we spend 8 or 9 hours a day doing this, it can mean that 2 or 3 weeks can easily go by during which we’ve never had a day away from the computers.

Thinking back, it seemed that the last time we had a real day out was my birthday in mid-March, a full 2 months ago. So I declared yesterday was high time for a trip.

After breakfast we set to and made up a simple picnic, packed the car with cameras, maps, fold-up seats and table, and off we went. We had no specific goal in mind, just to drive along the coast from Pylos northwards and stop in places we’d not been to before. A chance to get a bit more familiar with the finger of the Peloponnese where we live.

The day started off warm but without direct sunlight. The sort of day that seems to give a threat of rain, although you know it’s not going to happen. The roads were quiet and we had a good drive over to Pylos, about 40km away. Skirting the town we headed towards the small coastal villages. Possibly the most spectacular beach in the Peloponnese is Voidakilia, just above Pylos. It’s a beautiful crescent of fine sand, almost completely enclosed by hills with a narrow entrance to the cove, which means the sea is beautifully calm. This was as far as we’d been on previous occasions, so we were heading into ‘new’ territory.

Our first stop was Rikia, which proved to be another long crescent-shaped beach, with soft golden sand and deserted apart from one single sun worshipper. This beach is more open than Voidakilia and more rocky. The rocks seem volcanic with weird shapes and deep holes scoured by the sea over millennia. Several different plant species were dotted along the beach and among the hills, giving an unexpected variety of colours and shapes.

The first cove led to another, smaller one with a few boats moored in a natural harbour, where the sandy beach was undisturbed by any human presence. But only the beach …

In the near distance we spotted something very unusual for this area of Greece – a large, partially completed complex of buildings. Normally the houses here are well spaced out and single- or at most double-storey. But this was a complex with buildings 3 or 4 floors high, and crowded together, more like things we’d seen in Spain than anything we’d ever encountered in Greece before. We went closer and soon found the answer:

Some years ago the Greeks decided that it would be beneficial to tourism to construct golf courses, and this area of the Peloponnese was chosen as an ideal site. We knew this was happening, but the most we’d seen before was the reservoir, designed to store our precious water to keep the greens in good shape. Suddenly we were right on the edge of a green with sprinklers working continuously, and the cranes of the building site in the background.  Just shifting our focus by a couple of degrees we could see a long beach adjacent to the complex, with a back-drop of distant hills, blue in the heat haze.

A very large tourist development for the Peloponnese

A very large tourist development for the Peloponnese

We drove around the edge of the site as we made our way further north. The entrance was down a narrow lane off the main road and ‘guarded’ by uniformed security staff, and there was definitely a lot of coming and going, even on a Sunday. We were impressed to find that the complex was  invisible from most points on the coast road.

A couple of kilometres further up the coast we stopped at our second beach – Miti – another long stretch of undisturbed sand. From here we could look back on the golf complex in the distance. Golf in the morning and beach in the afternoon will definitely be on offer. I’d imagine there will eventually be water sports, beach bars, and everything needed to entertain visitors on-site.

I have mixed feelings about this development:

Tourism in this area of Greece is understated. Apart from a couple of resorts listed in travel brochures, most people who come here find it themselves. But the economy is suffering from the falling price of olive oil, a staple crop, so anything that can give it a boost is to be welcomed. And the work on site must be bringing a welcome income to many local people, as could the job opportunities once it is open. But to what extent this new development will be a long-term answer remains to be seen. If the complex is self-sufficient then visitors may not venture too far away from it, and the financial benefits to local residents – as opposed to the owners – may be limited.

And part of the beauty of Greece is the uncrowded beaches, the small unspoilt coves. Some of the nicest beaches are within a few km of this new development. How will an influx of visitors affect them? Or again, will the intention be to provide every possible distraction within the complex itself? It would be a shame if visitors only experienced their immediate environment when this is an area rich with images of traditional Greek life and accessible ancient sites. And it would be a shame if they stayed on their local beach and missed out on visiting the beautiful bays that surround it.

It may be some time before we know the answers and learn how successful this venture has been. In typical Greek style it seems to be taking a long time to complete the work. And first someone has to do something about the local airport at Kalamata. In the past couple of years the number of airlines flying into Kalamata seems to have fallen, and even in high season the traffic through the airport isn’t heavy. But without it potential golfers face a 5 hours journey from Athens, and I can’t see this attracting them to sample the new delights of golfing in Greece.

Visitors will be able to walk off the golf course and straight onto this beach

Visitors will be able to walk off the golf course and straight onto this beach

Share This Post

Getting Lost in Greece #2

Wednesday, March 4th, 2009

Out and About in the Greek Countryside

I’ve always enjoyed looking at maps and atlases. I don’t know why, but there’s something about a map that really appeals to me. Names of places, routes from one place to another, everything has a fascination. And I always enjoy navigating, especially in unfamiliar areas. Seeing how we’re moving across the map.

It’s something I find frustrating about Greece. It’s not that they don’t have maps, but they’re not really what I’m used to. Back in the UK I had a trusty road atlas that was part way to an ordnance survey map in its detail. The smallest of lanes was included, as were tiny hamlets. Greece just doesn’t seem to have an equivalent. Or if it does, it’s probably only available to military personnel.

Watch out for those giant houses! - our most detailed map of Messinia

Watch out for those giant houses! - our most detailed map of Messinia

The phrase ‘the map is not the territory’ was never more true than in Greece. You could be forgiven for expecting all roads in the same colour on a map to be of a similar quality. Maybe in other countries, but not in Greece. Here it’s quite common to find a road that’s designated as a rough track to be a better quality than one that’s designated as a secondary route. And a secondary route might be better than a primary route. And what a motorway will turn out to be like is anyone’s guess.

So that rough track up ahead, which is in the right place for the turning we’re looking for according to the map, but isn’t the primary road we’re expecting, could easily be what we want. Do we follow it in case, or do we keep driving, hoping there will be a more likely candidate up ahead? It gives every journey the potential for frustration, but also for adventure and discoveries.

I’ve seen British films of WW2 vintage where the signposts were turned round or removed, supposedly to fool the Germans if they ever landed. Maybe the Greeks think they’re still at war with someone, as they have their own version of this. They don’t seem eager to make it easy for people to find their way around. So when we decide to go on a drive off the main roads, we can almost guarantee we’re going to get lost.

Looking at my trusty road map I noticed some villages that apparently had a population of zero. There are a lot of single abandoned houses around here, but I’m fascinated by the idea of abandoned villages, so I suggested we go and check out a couple that were within about 20km of us. Both were clearly marked on 2 maps, so we could find them – right?

Our route to the first village started along roads we’d travelled before, but that didn’t make it any easier. Greek signposts tend to point you in a general direction then leaving you to find your own way (you’re on your own now, son). The map suggests we have to turn left in the village. We look out for the names of several places on our route which might be signposted. But of course there are no signs to guide us.

Driving out the other side of the village we can almost guarantee that the first sign we see will confirm we’re on the wrong road. Another U-turn, another try. And again. Who would have thought that tiny cobbled track would turn out to be the main road?

We risk a right turn onto a dirt road even though there are no signs, on the basis of it being in roughly the right place and going in the general direction. There are ordinary tyre tracks (as opposed to tractor ruts), so we’re not the only ones to come this way – always an encouraging sign. A kilometre or so along we come across a half dozen or so cars, just parked in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. No people around, just cars. Maybe hunters off to shoot some birds?

A little further: sliding through a muddy patch we become the day’s highlight for a group of children playing, a diversion from their normal games. I make a silent prayer that we won’t be driving back in the opposite direction in a few minutes, or I’ll ave to start waving like some celebrity.
Suddenly we’re up on a plateau of land with tracks criss-crossing it at all angles, but no buildings in sight and definitely no abandoned villages. There’s nothing to recommend one track above another so we set off down one until it becomes too rough for the car, then retrace our route and start off in another direction.

Eventually we find a track that seems to be heading in the general direction of a village glimpsed across the valley. Dodging deep ruts caused by recent rain, I walk in front of the car clearing away the larger stones. Another 500m and we’re heading back to civilisation at last. And here it is: a couple of tow trucks, some decidedly muddy cars, and several people looking at us in some surprise.

Oops – it looks like we’ve managed to join the latest stage of a car rally.

We didn’t wait to find out whether we’d won!

Share This Post