16/09/2011 Greece VII: The journey home

One of the most uneventful journeys ever. The car journey to the airport was smooth. The plane was on time, and my luggage was waiting on the carousel by the time I'd cleared customs. The train into London arrived after three minutes on the station and beat the Gatwick Express in to Victoria. The tube to King's Cross was waiting for me, as was the train to Cambridge.

If only all journeys were that painless!

15/09/2011 Greece VII: Stavros, or was it Tom?

We completed our circuit of Olympus today. Myself and Anna wandered up the Enipeas gorge from Litochoro.

Towards Mytikas (Μύτικας, 2.917 μ.)

We then drove round and up to the start of the trekkers path at Prionia. Annie and Anna had coffee, but Adamos had the brilliant idea of having a light lunch of fassolatha (white bean soup; φασολάδα), which was extremely tasty.

View from the cafe at Prionia

Before leaving Prionia, Annie and Anna took a wander (unbeknownst to either me or Adamos) up the first bit of the trekkers path to a small waterfall. We waited for about 30 minutes. I still have little idea what they were doing all that time. I followed in their footsteps when they returned, running up the steps. The waterfall was small, little more than a trickle. I'm sure it is much more impressive in spring, and certainly a much quieter place than the cafe, only two minutes from the car park.

  

 Saddled up, hopefully not for a trek to the summit...

Leaving Prionia and the foothills, we drove further north, before cutting back to the west to find the still active normal fault on the edge of the mountain. We got lost several times on the way, asking locals for directions. In return, we often got their life story. This was especially true on one long stretch of road, where we met an elderly gentleman tending to his vineyard. He must have been glad of the company, because Adamos ended up talking to him for about 5 minutes. After this, the man scurried away for a minute only to return to the car, his hands full with two enormous bunches of white and red grapes. We  thanked him profusely, than continued on our way, savouring the large sweet fruits as we went. 

Several detours and diversions later, we found ourselves travelling south, the Livadi ophiolitic body on our right hand side. Finishing the loop we started yesterday, we found ourselves a couple of kilometers away from one of the key sites of Clive Barton's PhD on Olympos. The contact between the Pelagonian and Olympos rocks was only some 200 meters from the road, so, after looking at a few folds closer to the small quarry where we parked the car, Anna and myself walked up. 

The contact, once apparently well exposed, is now largely overgrown with scrubby bushes and low trees. The schist adjacent to the contact is extremely friable, the sizeable micas weathering out and forming a more hospitable substrate for vegetation than the material on either side.

Oddly for a contact described variously as extensional (Kilias and others) and thrust (Barton), the sense of shear apparent from small-scale folding at this 30-40 degree dipping contact is consistently sinistral, rather than normal or reverse. An opportunity for more research?

Looking toward the Olympos carbonates just past Barton's contact
(schists visible on the lower left hand side of the picture)

After about 30 minutes, we returned to the car and made the return journey to Leptocaria. We ate in again. A smaller affair than the night before; the sons ate elsewhere. The food remained just as tasty though, and still plentiful. Souvlaki and salads made a very agreeable meal to finish my annual pilgrimage.

14/09/2011 Greece VII: The home of the Gods

Dina starts work at the Frontisterion again tomorrow, so we said our goodbyes in Grevena. I then packed my rucksack into the back of the Blazer, and Annie, Adamos and I left for Olympus and the seaside. We picked Anna up and drove around the south side of Olympus, passing close to Livadi on the way.

One of the mountain roads leads to an army base, and passes through the contacts of the Pelagonian Schists with the underlying Olympus Series Carbonates. The contact was pretty difficult to miss.

 

Left: Pelagonian schists. Right: Olympos series carbonates

Beyond the contact, the roadcut exposed mylonitic marbles. Paragliders sailed above our heads as we looked for structures and rare undeformed areas rich in fossils.

Paragliding above the Pelagonian

A couple of roadcuts proved themselves particularly weathered; the greys giving way to rusty browns. Large exposures revealed sharp to isoclinal folds marked by thin beds less resistant than the surrounding layers. On the way back down, we startled a bird of prey from its philosophical trance atop a dead tree, its large wings pushing it up and out westwards over the contact only a few meters from the car.

Startled from its musings

Returning to the main road encircling the mountain, we continued our journey. Rather than heading north towards our destination, a detour led us further east, through a section of less-than-perfect ophiolitic material. Purple-green lavas outcropped along the forested road, their sulphide-rich surfaces occasionally revealing tight and isoclinal folds clearly picked out in white.

Unhappy lavas

Occasionally, the trees parted sufficiently to afford us a view back towards the west.

Westwards towards Olympus

Passing through unimpressive scraps of peridotite long turned to serpentine, we stopped in a sizeable village to rest. A small cafe was open on the far side of a wide stone-paved plateia. We sat on the chairs, and ordered coffee from the aging owner. He told us that the village, once 400-strong, now had fewer than 100 inhabitants. He owns a farm outside the village, which he wants to pass on to his son. His son, perhaps unsurprisingly, has other ideas. I can't blame him; such an isolated place doesn't offer much of a future to anyone young. It struck me as a wonderful place to retire though.

We returned to the Blazer, and backtracked to the road skirting northwards around Olympos. Further contacts appeared, with carbonates this time overlying schists. The Aegean appeared ahead of us, and we followed the hairpins down the mountain side, stopping occasionally to take photos of the 10 m-scale boudins in the carbonates on our way down.

On our arrival in Leptocaria, we were warmly welcomed by the owner, wife and sons of the Hotel Galaxy, our home for the next two nights. Adamos and the owner once again quickly fell into conversation. Anna joined in as a third Siatistan - I assume they were talking about old times, but I admit that I quickly lost interest in attempting to pick up intelligeable scraps from the fast, smooth flowing Greek, and just let it wash over me instead.

The rooms in the hotel were very basic, but perfectly clean. The balcony looked over other hotels to the south. A dazzlingly bright sun dog lit the sky like a second sun to the west, lingering for twenty minutes before dusk descended.

We ate outside with the family in the evening. All of us sat around a long table, with the two men at the head and foot. A sumptuous banquet was presented to us, with salads, potatoes, breads and dips filling every available surface. Eight large fish were placed in the middle, their silvery scales lustrous under the fluorescent bulbs. I once again gained a reputation as a good eater, our hosts wife (also cook) gesturing for me to have more. We sat talking long after the food was finished, watching the moon rise over the large swimming pool to my left.

After dinner, we all went out to one of the local ice-cream and alcohol bars, and watched the younger tourists walk down the sea-front road. There was no need for anyone to wrap up warm, even for the girls walking along the beach.  

13/09/2011 Greece VII: Panning

A fun, if remarkably unsuccessful day today. Having apparently gained a reputation in Grevena as an experienced gold panner, Tolis (of the outdoor pursuits center) asked Annie if we could take him to a couple of sites to show him the ropes. He picked us up in his 4x4, and we left the city by the Pindos road. The vehicle is extremely impressive, with a dash that more closely resembled the cockpit of a Cessna than a car. Tilt-yaw-pitch indicators joined the array of other knobs and dials in the front.

We stopped at two sites, the first on a large plain and the second in one of the many hidden valleys, where two sizeable rivers joined. The first I distinctly remember panning in with Rob during my first year, on one of our days off during our mapping project. As then, we found nothing but a few rounded grains of chromite. The second was a new site, but I knew as we drove into the valley that we would be unsuccessful; the surrounding rounded hills covered with thin soils overlying flysch. The tiny fish in the cool waters nibbled at my feet as I swirled the water into the pan. No luck.

We returned to Grevena empty-handed. Tolis regaled us with excerpts from his mountain rescue adventures. I'm not entirely sure 'rescue' is an appropriate word to use. Given that most of the people they're called to are suffering from more extreme cases of death, 'recovery' may be more appropriate. In one instance, a man who was searching for Nazi gold up in a high mountain cave fell down a sheer face. The rescue team were unable to find the head.

After a couple of hours siesta, Dina came back to Annie's, and we went out souvenir shopping. Since my last visit two years ago, several tourist shops have opened up, specialising in local foods. Dried mushrooms, liquors and pastas line the shelves, interspersed with saffron and other spices. A range of dried fruits, hard-boiled and spoon sweets and preserves join the mix. I bought some dried mushrooms and mushroom pasta, three grams of red saffron in one shop, then crossed the road for some dried figs and rose-flavoured hard boiled sweets (and a mushroom fridge magnet to which Dina had taken a shine). The owner of the second shop had a daughter who had just got married, so gave us each a small bottle of liquor as a wedding gift. Dina donated hers to me. I look forward to trying the cherry and apricot nectars when I get home. We then visited the Zoomserie for ice cream one last time, and we sat on the steps outside the public library watching the kids play on the square. Dina got a call before we were finished; one of her students got his results and wanted her to go celebrate his success with sweets at the school, so we parted and I returned to the flat.

After our trip, Tolis was apparently sufficiently excited to ask me to send a pan over from England. He is considering starting a panning school; an appropriate way to make some money from the gold-obsessed locals. That evening, I ordered another pan for myself, and left mine at Annie's.

12/09/2011 Greece VII: Amphibolite addiction

Another day, another trip to the Pindos. The range seems to contain so many geological treasures, buried away in remote valleys and shrouded in dense forests.

The essential purpose of our trip today was to take photos of a single locality. Although not in the high Pindos, the network of tracks are sometimes hard to navigate, and impossible to drive up without four-wheel drive and no small amount of bravery. So Adamos was hired again, and after a short stop for a panorama at a small church, we passed around the small village of Kakoplevri and up the rust-coloured dirt track lined with peridotites.

Wall paintings inside the local Greek Orthodox church

Limestone trapped between two peridotite imbricates above Kakoplevri

Having completed our task for the day, we continued through peridotites and molasse. The contact was exposed in several places; a coarse poorly mixed conglomerate marking the erosional base of the sedimentary sequence. The track took us through pristine deciduous forests; the cool breeze through the car windows welcome respite from the alternating stifling heat of the exposed hillsides and biting cold of the air conditioned Blazer. A mixed herd of sheep and goats resting on the road blocked our way for five minutes before the goatherd and dogs appeared over the slope. Further along the road, we were stopped again by a felled tree. Luckily, the forester responsible was working a little way behind us, and cleared the way ahead once more.

Our helpful wilderness woodcutter

Our passage back down to paved roads took us through cumulate sequences before providing me with a blast of nostalgia in the form of a several meter thick unit of interleaved amphibolites and sheared ultramafics.

Sheared amphibolite-dunite contact

We returned to civilisation via another small village, and stopped for lunch at a new and well-equipped hotel, complete with faux antler chandeliers and gym. Its wide wooden balconies overlooked a wide river, the shallows glistening invitingly in the afternoon sun. A small dog padded back and forth between us, hoping for scraps. A pleasant end to a relaxing day.

11/09/2011 Greece VII: Sun beams on Vassilitsa

A morning off, and then lunch at the Venetikos Restaurant, where they keep tame deer and chickens. Children seemed more interested infeeding the deer than themselves, though their timidity meant that the bread and grass rarely reached the deer on the first attempt.

Deer outside the Venetikos Restaurant

After lunch, we drove up to the high Pindos around Vassilitsa, first taking the Samarina road and then backtracking, driving up to the ski center on Vassilitsa. For once, the thick haze provided light conducive to interesting photography.

Looking towards Tymfi (Distrato Road, Vassilitsa)

Looking towards Smolikas (Distrato Road, Vassilitsa)

10/09/2011 Greece VII: A day off

I'm currently sitting in Annie's lounge with Adamos, watching the news. Thousands of people have filled the streets of Thessaloniki, angry at the austerity measures. One young man is filmed lighting a red flare, carrying it through the streets. Firecrackers can be heard every minute or so. The mayor is shown in one of the conference centers (Βελλίδειο Συνεδριακό Κέντρο) discussing the crisis while portly men in suits laugh in the background.

10 minutes later, and another channel shows the police using tear gas, with reporters and protesters alike covering their eyes, running away from the white billowing clouds. ET3 has recorded footage of protesters throwing bricks and lit flares into the vastly outnumbered police. The response is surprisingly restrained; a couple of police grapple with protesters, but I don't see any batons being used.

The students barricaded the university a couple of days ago, and are refusing to return for at least a week. Perhaps the entire term will be cancelled.

Live pictures (1800) show a more controlled situation; the squares are still filled with people, but stationary, banners drooping.

Here in Grevena, everyone is more restrained. Kids are rollerblading and skating outside the town library. We're hearing car horns every now and then, but things seem pretty normal at the moment. But then, the rallies are directed toward the prime minister, due to speak in the Congress Hall soon.

****

Adamos invited me for a couple of beers at the Crescendo. The prime minister spoke on one screen, while ΠΑΟΚ played Εργοτέλης on another. No one had their eyes on the future of Greece. A roar went up as  ΠΑΟΚ scored the first goal in the 68th minute. Silence followed the two goals Εργοτέλης in the 85th and 87th. We'll have to see if they do better against Tottenham Hotspur later this week.

The In-In was the venue for a light dinner of γύρος, pita and salad with Annie. Children sporadically appeared through the hedge behind us playing and shouting, oblivious to our stares. 

09/09/2011 Greece VII: The limestones of Rodiani

Annie dropped us off on the way to the office, and we met Anna who took us up the Vourinos katafigio road in the two-seater Golf to take measurements from the limestone between the Vourinos and Rodiani ophiolitic complexes. I was volunteered to lie in the spacious boot. The bumpy journey was made an unsettling experience by my view of the upper branches of trees and swirling dust through the rear window.

Finding bedding in the limestones was difficult. Joints and cracks fooled the eye, and the massive grey carbonate only rarely gave any evidence of original sedimentary structure. Nevertheless, exposure was sufficiently good that we could scout around for elusive bedding traces, especially along the dry stream section. Tight to ptygmatic folds revealed themselves in slight variations in colour.

Isoclinal folds in Triassic-Jurassic limestones

By the time we reached the low metal shacks of the pig farm at the end of the section, it was already past out planned 1430 pick up time. Dina was beginning to struggle from the heat, and the dull headache I had been nursing throughout the morning became excruciatingly painful every time I knelt down or bent over.

Walking back eastward

I ran out of water before we left the stream bed, and my heart rate shot up to 150 bpm, pounding in my chest. Worse, I stopped sweating, and at the top of the climb back my vision faded to white. I stumbled toward the nearest shade and collapsed, where I waited from Anna and Dina, who gave me a little more of their water. I recovered sufficiently to walk the last 100 m to the car, more or less fell into the boot, and we drove to the nearest spring.

Anna left us after a short stop at the cafe outside Siatista. A litre of water and a carton of juice in the shade helped me feel better, but my headache didn't improve until after we ate gavros, octopus and squid at the fish restaurant in the evening. Nor did my fever, despite the cold shower and subsequent blast of cold air from the air conditioner in my room. I felt cold, but knew that I still needed to cool down. I must have drunk three or more litres of water before falling into bed for the night.  

08/09/2011 Greece VII: Fantastic Folds

It's surprisingly difficult to find a good geology road trip route. So often, the route takes you through thoroughly uninteresting terrain only pockmarked with natural wonders. That's how I viewed most of my undergraduate road trips, anyway. The other problem is that unless you have a map in front of you, it's extremely easy to lose your bearings, and with them your sense of geological setting.

Today was not like the average geology road trip. From Grevena we took the Via Egnatia to Metsovo (Μέτσοβο), then drove on to Anilio (Ανήλιο), so called because of its position on the shady side of the local mountains. We parked at the base of the village, and walked the short distance to the plateia, shaded by aged platanus trees. On one side, an early 18th century church provided extra respite from the sun, its stone walls the same light grey as the streets and walls of the rest of the village. I sat and ordered a strong Greek coffee (ελληνικός σκέτος), and fussed over a small dog that scampered over to us inquisitively.

Dina at the entrance to one of the Anilio Metsovo churches

We then drove south to Haliki (Χαλίκι). To the west lies Lakmos (Λάκμος), the source of the Achiloos River (Ποταμος Αχελώος), whose peak is at 2,295 m and is named Tsoukarela (Τσουκαρέλα). The Achiloos is named after the Greek deity Achelous, son of Tethys and Oceanus, and considered by Homer to be the origin of all the fresh waters of the Earth. The rivers origins are described by Servius:

When Achelous on one occasion had lost his daughters, the Sirens, and in his grief invoked his mother Gaea, she received him to her bosom, and on the spot where she received him, she caused the river bearing his name to gush forth.

Larva of Saturnia pyri, the Giant Peacock Moth; the largest European moth

South of Haliki, a spectacular range of mountains reach skywards. Once made angular by glaciers creeping inexorably down the valley, their peaks have been sanded only slightly by the passage of the last few millennia. Flysch in a myriad shades of grey reveals itself where grasses have failed to colonise the slopes, creating hundreds of towering chevrons rising above the valley floor.

Panorama of chevron-folded ranges and sheep herd

Chevron folds between Chaliki and Kalarrytes

From Haliki, we continued upwards to 1900 m, and then descended past Kalarrytes (Καλαρρύτες) into a valley across which a metal bridge spanned a crystal-clear stream. An older footbridge lay further to the west, beneath which large carbonate blocks with brown-grey chert nodules provide a perfect place to sit and relax unseen from the road and village.

Old bridge along path from metal bridge across the valley south of Kalarrytes

We continued our drive to Pramanta (Πράμαντα), and from there to Melissourgoi (Μελισσουργοί), another beautiful alpine canyon.

Alpine scenery and Ionian flysch near Melissourgoi

Back to Pramanta, and through the Tzoumerka region (Δύμος Κεντρικών Τζουμέρκων) along the Vourgareliou-Pramanton (Βουργαρελίου-Πραμάντων) and Pros-Gorgousa (Πρός-Γοργούσα). We stopped for lunch at a cafe on the Artas-Fraston (Άρτας-Φραστών) road, just before a bridge crossing the Araxthos River (Ποταμός Άραχθως).

Looking north from the Artas-Fraston bridge across the Araxthos River

From there, we drove back to the Via Egnatia near Ioannina, and then back to Grevena.

View larger map

07/09/2011 Greece VII: Kozani II

Another day, another trip to Kozani. We arrived to some bad news. Before we had dinner yesterday evening, Annie and I sat chatting about various things while a serious-looking politician spoke at length on the state of the economy and plans for recovery. We turned the sound down, not wanting to hear what he said. Apparently his discourse touched on the fate of various public services, including that of IGME. We discovered that instead of the planned 9-month grace period, such services would be closed by the end of October. 

This sounds like terrible news, and indeed it is if the intended closures come to pass. The worries of Annie and the other employees of IGME are compounded by the fact that no-one has been told anything; the first anyone in Kozani or Athens heard of this was on the news yesterday. The general director is currently in Cyprus, so it's unclear whether he has any more information. 

The IGME jeeps, and associated puppies

As we returned to Grevena, we talked of the clouds gathering over Europe. After our return, rather less metaphorical clouds gathered overhead. Soon torrential rain pelted the roofs and streets of Grevena as thunder rolled around the hills and lightning lit up the leaden sky.

 Lightning above Grevena 

Dina and Babi invited me to their house for dinner. Babi cooked meat and sweetcorn on his barbeque (handmade from a solar water heating tank) and we sat underneath their vines eating and drinking, surrounded by local kittens also keen to try out some of the food. Cassandra stayed indoors, yowling, though she did manage to open the door once.

After feasting on the meat, we tried some of Dina's homemade apple and fig cake, which despite starting out purple turned green on cooking. It still tasted great, and after a few grapes, we went inside. Cassandra was on heat, and spent most of the evening crouching and stretching her body completely oblivious to the fact that there was a scary foreign person in her domain.

Babi insisted I have a second try on his drum, something I attempted for the first time in his shared room at Zavordhas. This time, we had YouTube and a computer (a wedding present from Mike and Annie) to accompany us rather than an old cassette player, and Babi had a new drum so that we could each play. After a rather shaky start, I actually got the hang of a couple of the basic Albanian belly-dancing rhythms. The more complex ones completely escaped me. I have absolutely no idea how it's possible to play an instrument where one hand keeps a perfectly natural rhythm while the other taps an altogether irregular beat, but Babi manged to do so. Still, I'm happy with how much better I was than the amusing disaster of my second year.

06/09/2011 Greece VII: Livadi

Today, we did a bit of exploring around Livadi (Λιβάδι), an attractive and affluent village west of Olympos. To the north and east of the village, fragments of ophiolite have been found. This area was the focus of a Cambridge PhD completed by Damian Nance in 1975. 

Livadi Village

The ophiolitic fragments are distinct from those seen in the Hellenic ophiolites to the west. We only succeeded in getting to the most southerly fragment - the others are either in dense forest or outcrop along a narrow track that Annie wasn't happy driving along. Nevertheless, the harzburgites we saw were enough to keep us thinking. Serpentine blebs mark a prominent foliation in the rocks, which has not remained planar, but instead undulates gently across large blocks. Chlorite appears to be a later mineral growth, suggesting reheating of the ultramafic bodies.

The ophiolitic fragments are surrounded by Pelagonian schists, including some very attractive metafelsites with large quartzo-feldspathic augen.

Augen Schist, East of Livadi

We returned to Grevena early, and rested until the evening, when Anna joined myself and Annie for dinner at the Ekavi (Εκάβι).

05/09/2011 Greece VII: Kozani

No rocks today. Just a trip into the IGME (ΙΓΜΕ) offices in Kozani (Κοζάνη), theoretically to pick up some petrol money. Unfortunately Dimitra was not in, so after coffee, mpougatsa and a browse through books, rocks and photos we returned to Grevena. Hopefully we'll be able to get money on Wednesday.

Some of Annie's rock samples from the last three years

04/09/2011 Greece VII: Blueschists, or Hairpins at 70

When we woke up this morning, we had no idea what we were going to do. Babi had to work, so Dina's car was out of action. Annie wanted a day off. So it came as a surprise to me to wake up to Mike calling to me through my door, telling me that we were going to 'the village'. Which village? Paliouria (Παλιουριά), where we were based doing our mapping project? Fotino (Φωτεινό), the site of the oldest rocks in Greece, and the focus of our fieldwork two years ago? Spileo (Σπήλαιο) in the Pindos, with the nearby Eagle's Nest restaurant (Αετοφωλιά; 40°0'54"N 21°13'17"E) and its delectable meat? Distrato (Δίστρατο) also with wonderful food, especially the mountain trout?

It turns out that it was none of these. These village was Ambelakia, a pretty village not far from Olympos (Όλυμπος). Also known as the 'type-section' for blueschists. Adamos had offered to drive.

The blueschists at Ambelakia (Αμπελάκια) represent a sequence of sedimentary sequences and minor volcanics. The sediments are a mixture of muds and limestones, mylonitised and faulted such that they look as if they're flowing down the mountainside. White quartz veins separate layers of fine grained blue-green schist. The colour appears to derive primarily from the mica-chlorite sheets, which weather to a perfect shine. Epidotes, glaucophane and actinolite add to the range of greens and blues.

Blueschists at Ambelakia

Ambelakia village sits above the section, nestled comfortably against the hillside. The walls, pavements and roads are all lined with blueschists, and bustle with people. Strains of the liturgy can be heard drifting down from the village church, and are tactfully ignored by those sitting in the restaurant enjoying their early afternoon lunch.

We continue our excursion by visiting the Ossa (Όσσα) section, driving through many more schists to a katafigio (καταφύγιο) high up on the peak. Names scratched on rocks scattered over the hillside attested to the justified popularity of the site with hillwalkers. Even in early September, tiny mountain flowers and purple thistles poke their way out of the scorched earth, adding colour to the dry yellow grasses lining the slopes. A couple who work for the forestry commission ask about the history of the area, and direct me up to a bunch of blue rocks about 10-15 minutes up the marked path. My subsequent run to the site they described reveals a contact between brown-green schists and blue-tinted carbonates, but detailed observations are precluded by the long journey home.

Thistles on Ossa

The katafigio below Ossa

We descend Ossa through dense forests on a road lined with blackberries and redcurrants. Rather than returning to Grevena directly, we stop for a short time at Leptocaria (Λεπτοκαρυά), a tourist resort popular with Eastern Europeans and the location of a hotel owned by an old friend of Adamos. Beautifully worked wood is joined incongruously by huge golden buddha masks, tourist nik-naks and huge broken pottery urns filled with flowers. The table mats advertised Cutty Sark. After the customary greetings, the hotel owner asks me how Margaret Thatcher is doing. He tells me she'd spent a month at his hotel before she was Prime Minister, and that they were good friends. Dry Greek humour always throws me.

We drive back via Olympos and Chromio (Χρώμιο) roads. Adamos either really wants to get back before dark (it was past 1900 by the time we left the Aegean), or he really dislikes the five versions of 'Volare' pumped out by the apparently braindead DJ on the radio. Whatever the reason, both Dina and I are soon clinging on to the sides of the car. In case anyone should think I'm exaggerating, I check our speed a few times (read: near continuously) on the way back. Adamos feels that country roads are best taken at 140 kph. Blind bends warrant more care; he navigates these at more sensible speed of between 100 and 120 kph. Hairpins are cornered at 70 kph.

We stop for dinner in the village of Poros (Πόρος), just as the petrol warning light flickers on. Souvlakia and strong soft cheese join the salad and bread at the table, inside the community hall loaned out to the man who apparently both cooks and serves the food. Sesame seed halva, and grapes follow. The locals insist on paying for Dina and Annie's wine and all four bottles of Mythos for Adamos and I.

The rest of the journey back to Grevena is much smoother. Perhaps the music has become more soothing, or the beer has lessened the urgency to get back. It is perhaps an indicator of how pleasant the evening is that as a shadow passes across the orange-tinted moon, it takes me a minute to identify the smudge as a cloud.

03/09/2011 Greece VII: Get thee to the gravity slide

This morning we took the opportunity to stock up on food in Grevena (Γρεβενά). In the afternoon, we took a trip to Pentalofos (Πεντάλοφος). One of my clearest memories of the departmental field trip to Spain was a visit to El Gordo, a spectacular slump fold about 20 m high. The folds at Pentalofos might not rival that of El Gordo in height, but in continuity, length and clarity of interpretation I think Spain's pride and joy is beaten hands down.

 Isoclinal slump folding: the Pentalofos Gravity Slide

 The village of Pentalofos

We got back to Grevena quite early, and Annie dropped us off at Dina's house. Her garden is an epicurean's delight. The grapes were a deep purple with a light bloom, and had a flavour of such sweetness that it was hard not to pick a whole bunch. The tomatoes ranged from huge red and green fruits to diminuitive cherries in red, orange and purple. All heirloom varieties. Ripe bell peppers and chillies hung unexpectedly from plants withered by the hot sun, nestling between squashes. Pomegranate, and figs almost ripe to burst completed the selection of fruit. Two roosters and about a dozen chickens clucked at the back of the yard, awaiting whatever scraps came their way.

Vines in Dina's garden

Cassandra (Κασσάνδρα; the kitten we rescued while hunting ophiolite scraps two years ago) is now very healthy looking, but utterly terrified of anyone unfamiliar. She only likes going outside when chaperoned, and is scared of the chickens.

Coffee at Dina's, complete with figs, snake melon, tomatoes and bell peppers

There were a couple of spots of rain as we drank our coffee under the vines, but nothing to clear the hazy, dusty sky. We wandered on down through the town as dusk descended and enjoyed a meal of mushrooms at the Yevsi (Γεύση) restaurant on the plateia. The square wasn't bustling with people, but there were a healthy number of customers at the restaurants, and the usual number of youngsters playing on the square and in the surrounding streets. Ten or twelve people stood in the center of the plateia, where seat had been put out in front of a local member of the communist party and his guitar. I'd love to say that he was eloquent, avoided ranting, and had a stunning singing voice. I fear, however, that this would be a whacking lie.

02/09/2011 Greece VII: Cambridge to Dion

Today has been a long day. I left Magdalene at 2130 to catch the 2232 to Gatwick (via London Liverpool Street, Bank and London Bridge). The journey was actually fine; far easier and quicker than I was expecting. I arrived at about 0015, to wait for check in to open at 0350. Gatwick is actually an ok airport to spend the night; there are plenty of seats and a 24 hour convenience store.

We boarded without a hitch at 0520. The flight was due to leave at 0550, but because of a "passenger number discrepancy" we sat on the tarmac for an hour whilst desperate-looking air hostesses frantically clicked their head counters.

Eventually, the captain spoke over the tannoy. "Apparently maths is not an opinion", he sighed drily. "Now that the boarding staff have realised this, we can depart". The lead air hostess (I don't know what was her proper title) chipped in, clearly furious. "We apologise for your patience", were her first words, greeted with an appropriate level of mirth. "If you want to complain, then please do so online at www.easyjet.co.uk. I certainly will be".

The flight was a bumpy one, but we made good time thanks to a strong tailwind, landing just 20 minutes after our scheduled arrival. As we disembarked, we were greeted by a blast of warm humidity and a bright Greek sun hanging in a hazy September sky. Annie and Dina met me at arrivals, and we wandered out to find Adamos in the car park.

Instead of wasting a long trip, Annie and Dina decided that it would be nice to pay a visit to Dion (Δίον), a 2000 year old city at the foot of Olympos (Όλυμπος), and the site of temples dedicated to Zeus, Demeter and Isis. Alexander assembled his armies in Dion before marching west to war. It was a sweltering 35 degrees, and apart from a family of Germans we were the only visitors to the site. 

A heron worshipping in the temple of Isis

I love the Greeks, but the Greek attitude towards their cultural heritage leaves something to be desired. On a site that could easily rival Hadrian's Wall, and probably most British archeological digs, the stream was filled with what I would politely describe as gunk, some of the ruins were flooded, most of the city was unexcavated (though we did see three archaeologists working, and several more drinking coffee) and the shop consisted of about eight history books, several faux-marble busts and some postcards.

Enough of the moaning. The site contained some fairly impressive remains, including numerous mosaics, a mostly intact hypocaust, large public baths, cart-rutted roads, Greco-Roman walls, a religious building variously described as an `episcopal basilica' or `cathedral church' and the perennial tourist favourite - the toilets.

Mount Olympos from Dion

The temperature had risen to 37 by the time we left Dion, and we were all ready for lunch. Stopping for petrol, the attendant accidentally left the tank cap on the roof of the car. We drove off, cap fell off, we returned to the petrol station. Cue an hour of ineffectual searching. We finally arrived at Methoni (Μεθώνη), a beautiful fishing village next to the Aegean about an hour after intended. The village, packed with restaurants, was deserted. The proprietor of the place we chose was a friend of Adamos. Mixalis told us that we were his first customers of the week. It was a Saturday. We supped on a delicious meal of shrimp, deep fried mussels, a large fish and sprats (γάβροι), while Mixalis' young son eyed my new camera with a mixture of curiosity and envy.