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.

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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.