A Day in Ithaka - May 19

Murray and I arose early to catch the 8:30 ferry from Kefalonia to Ithaka. From our villa, we could see the small island and the steep mountainous road. Now that our legs had recovered from a day of rest, we thought we'd challenge ourselves by tackling the Ithaka climbs.

The ferry ride took only a half hours. On the way we saw some dark skinned children, we assumed to be gypsies. They wanted us to take photos of them, presumably for compensation. One boy stuck out his hand and said, "money." This was annoying - especially considering that they were accompanied by a man, their father, perhaps. One of the ferry crew spoke to them in Greek, telling them to leave us I alone, I guessed. They didn't bother us after that. This family brought a truck with them filled with plastic chairs, benches and terracotta pots. We had heard them - or someone peddling similar wares, shouting in Greek through a loud speaker as they drove down the road in their truck.

I imagined something like: "Chairs for sale. Come quickly. Good prices."

The strange part is that they would go by businesses and through neighborhoods. Why not just put out some leaflets or stop and ask the business owner if he is interested? I thought I could help with their marketing efforts if they wanted to hire me as a consultant. Perhaps I should say, "money" and put my hand out to them.

But I didn't have time for the "Chairmen." I had cycling to do.

We arrived at the port of Pisaetos. There wasn't much there except the ferry stop. Once we arrived, we had a steep climb up to the main road. It wasn't so bad on fresh legs. We rode on the northwestern coast. The terrain was similar to Kefalonia, with steep cliffs and shrubby landsccape dropping down to coves and pretty beaches.

Ithaka was much less populated than Kefalonia and so the roads were quieter. It seemed more tranquil on the long slow climb toward Stavros.

When we arrived at Stavros, it seemed like we stepped back in time. Gone was the resort feel and in its place a village square with people dressed in traditional garb. We saw three men sitting by a monestary, two villagers and a Greek Orthodox priest. They posed for photos and we took a look inside the monestary. It was small, ornate with three chandeliers, colorful religious paintings and carved wooden benches.

It took us no time to travel the 13 miles, which we figured was more than a third of our journey. So we took our time in Stavros, snapping photos of interesting looking people and snapped and relaxing at a cafe before heading down the road.

We stopped at the Musuem of Homer, which was rather pathetic. A few fragments of tools and some reassembled pottery. But it was free, although up a trecherous hill that was so steep I started doing wheelies. Near the museum we saw an damaged building, presumably from the 1953 earthquake. The old structure was quite picturesque, and we stopped to take more photos.

Leaving Stavros, we diverted from our circular loop toward Frikes. This presented a steep climb, but we were glad that we traveled this way to see the small fishing village. Onward along the north coast we rode. The course flattened out and then presented another steep climb to Kioni. This village was equally picturesque. We saw a woman looking out a second-floor window. She waved to us and told us that there were three beautiful beaches nearby, down a near-vertical road. We knew a big climb was to come, so we bypassed the beaches and backtracked to Stavros where we would rejoin our circular course.

Our road south cut across the inside part of northern Ithaka. Even less traffic traveled on this road. We traveled alone up the steep climb up the mountains. The mountains rise from the sea to more than 2600 feet. We climbed on the road seven or eight miles, near the summit. Every time I thought I had neared the top, the road would switch to another mountain, and the climb would begin again. This was an extremely challenging ride. I was relieved when I saw the road down.

The descent gave us new challenges. It was steep, winding and had spots of gravel and sand. Plus, it snaked along cliffs with a flimsy guard rail and steep drop beyond. Murray rode faster, and I took my time down. After a few miles, we rejoined the main road and followed it from the northern to the southern part of the twin hilled island. We followed the coastal road, cycling fast to Vathi. The village was nestled in a long turquoise inlet, lined with yachts. As the main island-hoppig port, it seemed more touristy than the other places we visited on the northern part of the island. I wasn't interested in exploring - too tired from the climb and starving. For lunch, we had our typical Greek salads, Murray ordered an omelet, and I ate a pastry stuffed with ham and cheese and a glass of wine.

After lunch, we returned to Pisoaetos to catch the ferry. We took our cycling shoes off and sat on a big rock letting our feet dangle into the sea.

Total miles: 40

Snake on the Path - May 18

After seven flats and four days of riding, Murray and I voted to give our weary backends a day off. What a luxury to sleep as late as we wanted instead of jumping out of bed preparing to tackle the day's ride.

By noon, we decided that even if we weren't riding, we wanted some exercise, so we put on our running shoes and headed to Sami. My hamstrings were sore from all the riding, and any hills strained my legs. So we ran alongside the water on paths. Murray was running a bit ahead when I saw something moving near the path.

A SNAKE!

I screamed.

The snake responded by jumping and twisted in the air.

I screamed louder and jumped back, flailing my arms as I backpedaled. The snake moved off the path.

Murray had stopped to watch the spectacle, and he laughed.

"It could have been poisonous!" I told him. "There are poisonous snakes in Greece."

"I don't think it was - it looked too plain. Usually, the poisonous ones have more colorful markings."

Note the key word, "usually." I'm glad I didn't stand on the path to find out for sure.

After our jog, we showered and headed to Captain Corelli's in Agia Efimia. This had become our regular afternoon stop on our rides, but this time we drove and showed up clean. Murray had lemonade, I ordered white wine, and the waitress brought out a bowl of chips.

That evening, Murray's nother made spaghetti with lentils, carrots and sauce served with a salad and bread.

Highs and Lows of Kefalonia - May 17

Our legs acclimated to climbing, Murray and I decided to tackle our tougest ride so far - up and over a mountain road from Sami to Argostoli. Our plan was to ride from Argostoli north along the coast until we could cross to the western part of the island to Petani Beach. The road climbed from sea level to 626 meters or 2053 feet over seven miles. The day was overcast, and rain looked possible. But after nearly a week in the dry heat, we didn't think the rain would come.

I started off the day noticing that my back bicycle tire had a huge gouge in it. Fortunately, Murray had a spare tire which he put on for me. It was extremely difficult to get on. As I started my ride up the mountain, I noticed that my back tire was becoming flat. Murray was ahead of me on the climb, and I pulled over on the side of the road, attempting to change my tube. The tire was so tight on that I couldn't get it off. Meanwhile, Murray had waited for me at a pull off further up the mountain. He had deemed it a good place to take photos. After 5 minutes of waiting for me, Murray came back down the road to see why I hadn't arrived. He saw me off my bike with my bike lying down. He thought the worst.

He was relieved it was only a flat, but not at all excited to remove the tight-fitting tire. Eventually, he was able to ply it off. Onward up the mountain, and then came flat number two - on the back wheel again. This time, Murray was nearby, and he changed the tube once again.

We continued our climb, and as we neared the top, we felt a spattering of rain. We had a choice - we could turn around or continue on toward Argostoli. A sign promoted wine tasting at the Robola Wine Cooperative. Onward we rode.

We left the our planned path to Argostoli to find the cooperative. It was down a winding road to a village called Fragata. The wine cooperative had two women clerks and two people wine tasting. No one rose to greet us or even acknowledge our presence as we entered. Undeterred, we walked toward the wine table and poured wine in some glasses. Some of the bottles were empty and full ones were on the table, but the clerks didn't even seem to notice.

We tried the three options available to us. The white was light and crisp but not too smooth. It was a little sweeter than a chardonnay. The red was nasty - acidic with a strange after taste, a bit skunky. The Brillante Rose was just right - refreshing, not too sweet, with a nice strawberry flavor.

As we tasted, a man arrived. We heard him speak Greek to another visitor who had arrived and then switch to English with a British accent. His name was Bill. He was retired and had moved to Kefalonia where he worked at the cooperative. When I asked about the grapes used in the various wines, Bill explained the Greek names. I had never heard of grapes called robola, tsaousi or vostilidi. Bill claimed that these varities of Grecian grapes were the source of commonly known varieties as chardonnay and merlot. Murray had his doubts as to the authenticity of Bill's story.

We left the cooperative, and no way were we going up the steep hill we descended into Fragkata. We picked a flatter, longer course through the valley. Wildflowers brightened the landscape, the clouds had disappeared revealing a clear, blue sky.


Halfway to our Argostoli, we saw a castle - up a hill, of course. Murray wanted to ride on; I wanted to see it. He said my American vote counted for two, so we rode to worth the steep climb. When we arrived, we found the entrance padlocked, and it was extrenely hot up there. Murray had also discovered his back tire was losing air.

"I'll pump it up. It'll be all right," he said.

We left the castle and continued on to Argostoli. Before we arrived, his tire deflated once again. This time he stopped to change the tube. This would be the fourth time he had changed a tire - my gouged tire, two flats and now his flat.

As we arrived in Argostoli, and Murray noticed that his back tire was once again losing air. He stopped to change the tire for the fifth time.

By this time it was early afternoon, and we were starving. We decided to bypass the busy traffic of the city and continue on the road that crossed the bay of Argostoli. We passed on a pedistrian bridge, once a road for autos. The area attracted both tourists and locals. We noticed some Greek fisherman with poles in hand and asked if we could take their photo.

Traveling a mile along the beautiful coastal highway, we spotted a restaurant. We stopped for lunch. We split a Greek salad, bread, fries and fried cheese. This was the first time we encountered someone at a restaurant who spoke very little English. When Murray asked for salt, and demonstrated pouring it onto the fries, she became excited - ketchup? No, Murray explained the word again. Mustard! she said, and left before we could correct her. Never mind, I found salt on another table. The woman returned with both ketchup and mustard.

After lunch, we continued up the coast. The ride was peaceful and quite scenic. The world was perfect. I rode ahead, crouched on my aerobars. I turned back to talk to Murray, and he had disappeared. I stopped and then headed back down the road, where I saw Murray.

"What happened," I asked as he neared me.

"Another flat."

This was a problem. We were out of spare tubes. We had a patch kit, but there weren't any villages for a while. It would be impossible to patch a tire without a basin of water to find the leak.

We made it five miles, Murray stopping along the way to pump up the tire, when we saw some houses - but no restaurants or public places to stop. I saw some workmen on a roof and asked if we could have water and a bowl. They didn't speak much English, but he did understand water. One of the men came back with a hose. I tried to demonstrate a big bowl. He didn't get it. Murray found a discarded plastic cup, and the man filled the cup with water. Then he suggested we go back to Argostoli.

"Too far!" I protested. The man left.

Murray started to put one of the punctured tubes in the small cup. As he was moving the tube around, the man returned with a very large plastic blue bowl. This was perfect! Murray and I patched three tubes. Murray changed the tire for the sixth time.

We decided to bypass the beach since we had taken so much time on flats, and continued east riding beside the sea on the high cliffs above the northern coast of Kefalonia.

"My tire is going down again," Murray said. He may not have let the glue set long enough, but we had two more tubes. He changed the tire for the seventh time.

We rode all the way back without trouble. We stopped at our favorite hangout - Captain Corelli's in Agia Efimia.

Despite one gouged tire, six flats and missing the beach, this was by far the most scenic and fun day of our journey so far.

Total miles: 50

Climbing to Assos - May 16

Murray and I headed by bicycle toward the picturesque village of Assos. We traveled along the same road that we cycled on our way to Mirtos beach. We passed the beach turnoff and kept riding northeast. Once again, the mountain road provided the only way to our destination. This road was long and steep. For my cycling friends back home, think Bearthooth Pass. My legs felt fatigued after two previous days of climbing and the hot midday sun made the climb a real workout. The views were breathtaking, though. And going up the mountain slowly provided ample time to see the entire setting. The terrain on the northern part of the island seemed rockier and less green. The descent was tricky - equally steep along a narrow, winding road. While it didn't have heavy traffic, he road did seem busier than our other journeys. It is always nerve-wracking for me to have cars try to pass on steep descents.

We made it to the village unscathed - mostly. Murray toppled over as he stopped his bike atop the climb to wait for me. The road was uneven and he couldn't unclip.

Assos had a quaintness to it with narrow winding streets and white houses with different colored shutters. The village is inhabited by only 75 full-time residents and the tourist season - from May through September - brings an abundance of foreign travelers.

Assos also has a large castle - once used as a local prison and formed the backdrop for almost every sunset scene in the movie Captain Corelli's Mandolin. It was a long walk up to the top. With our cleated shoes, we bypassed the castle. The castle is also the spot where around 1,500 Italians were butchered by Germans in September 1943.

Our lunch stop was a restaurant by the waterfront of Assos. I ordered a chicken kabob. Murray stuck with his noontime omelet. Once again, we split a Greek salad. The food was so-so and the bill much more than our previous lunch at Poros.

After lunch, we met up with Murray's family. They were enjoying a day on the pebbly beach at Assos. We stopped to say hi and posed for a quick photo. Then the only way out was up. As I started to pedal, I became a bit unstable by starting on a climb and toppled over as I started. I managed to unclip, but the gears scraped into my right calf. Oh, what would a cycling vacation be without a fall? I'm glad that Murray and I got our crashes out of the way.

The climb up was equally steep, but not as long. Then it was a fantastic descent most of the way to the villa.

Murray cooked that night - pesto pasta, salad and bread. I cleaned up afterwards.

Total miles: 40

Cave and Quake - May 15

We started our day touring the Drogarati Cave a few miles down the road. The cave's massive stalagtites and stalagmites began forming more than 100 millions years ago.

The cave was accessible by stone steps that led down to a large room where the natural wonder could be viewed. The steps were slippery, a bit damp from the humid environment of the cave. In our cycling shoes, Murray and I walked on our heels and stepped sideways to avoid slipping. We were lucky that the trek down the stairs was relatively short.

After a brief coffee break with Murray's family at the cafe outside the cave, we hopped on our bikes and pedaled south.

We climbed up a mountain road through beautiful meadows lined with cypress trees and wild flowers. The fragrance reminded me of honeysuckle. The beauty surrounding me kept my mind off my aching legs. This was a long, steep climb. At the top of our climb, we arrived at a small village called Digaleto. There we found remnants of crumbled buildings from the 1953 earthquate in Kefalonia. This quake destroyed virtually every structure on the island.

Down a long descent we arrived at the town of Poros. The town is located along the Ionian Sea on the southeastern portion of the island. Murray told me Poros was a working port. I found the place to have a run-down feel. The colorful, cement buildings reminded me more of a tenament rather than a resort. But we were hungry, and so we stopped for a late lunch.

We selected a restaurant called the Fotis Family. Murray ordered an omelett, I ordered a chicken gyros with fries and we split a Greek salad. The food was delicious - and so cheap. We were amazed that our bill for food and drink was less than 15 Euros. Quite a deal. There is an advantage to lunching at a nappy resort town.

After lunch, we returned to the mountain road and climbed back up toward Sami. The ride was long, and my legs tired by the time we were back.

For dinner, we returned to Sami's waterfront. We ate at a different restaurant. Another fish dinner for me. Tasty and fresh. After dinner, we listened to Greek musicians play and sing and watched little Nia, Murray's niece, dance with her "mum." It was a beautiful, relaxing evening.

Cycling to Mirtos Beach - May 14

Progress - I only slept until 11:30 today. When I awoke, Murray had already assembled his bike and was off for a ride. How could he? Without me?

I decided to go for a ride on my own. Just as I was unpacking my bike, Murray returned. He rode up to acropolis in Sami, located on a very steep, winding road splattered with goat droppings and hairy catterpillars all the way to the top. The ruins and monestary of the acropolis were a disappointment. There was no form remaining - just rocks, supported wall and signs indicating what the ruins used to be. Definitely, not worth the quad burn from the very steep climb.

Murray helped me assemble my bike, and we went on my first ride, his second. We rode along the coast to Agia Efimia, a charming fishing village with outdoor cafes. We didn't stop on the way out, continuing on to Mirtos Beach.

Mirtos was down a very steep road. This is a very hilly island. At the end of the descent we discovered a pristine white sand beach. The turquoise water was so clear that I could see rocks and minnows beneath the surface. We took off our shoes, and waded in the water - not too cold. Afterwards, we reclined on the warm sand and let the Mediterrean sun warm us. Our only complaint - no snack shop for refreshments. Odd, since there was a structure half-built which looked like a snack shop forgotten in the middle of construction.

The climb up from the beach was challenging. I haven't biked much this year, especially compared to the past two years. My legs protested the vertical ascent. Okay, it wasn't quite vertical, but it was the hardest climb I have ridden since last year's ascent up the mountains of France. Thank goodness it was only a mile or so up to the top.

On the way home, we stopped at Elimia to a bar/cafe called Captain Carelli's. We stopped for drinks - a lemonde and water for me, a small beer for Murray. We were amazed with the cheap price - only 4 euros.

That evening, Kerry made a vegetable barbecue, eggplant stuffed with mozzarella, Greek salad, bread and wine.

Total miles: 24

Grandpop's Birthday - May 13

With a nine hour time difference and traveling for more than 24 hours, I needed sleep. I slept until 1 in the afternoon. That afternoon, Murray and I jogged to the town of Sami, a couple miles down the road. Sami is a port town and was used as the main location for Captain Corelli's Mandolin.

That evening, we had a birthday dinner and then cake to celebrate the 75th birthday of Murray's dad, David. His mom, Maureen, his sister Kerry and her two children, Nia and Cara were there for the festivities.


We ate dinner at a restaurant by the water. I had grilled black snapper cooked in cellophane with carrots, garlic, potato pieces and Greek olive oil. The combination was a flavor medely. My only complaint was the small fish bones.

After dinner, Murray, Kari, the kids and I walked back to the villa. Along the way, I captured some photos along the waterfront. One nice thing about being in Greece is that most all of the people speak English.

We returned to the villa to have chocolate cake. David wondered why there were six candles since it was his 75th birthday. No one had an answer. But we sang happy birthday and enjoyed the rich, decadent cake with a chocolate mousse layer.