Day 13: Delphi- Ag Nikolaos

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Distance - 80 km
Total Distance - 909 km
Altitide Gain - 958 m


Last night I learned that my family were in Lefkáda - which they reckoned was about two hundred kms from Delphi (but which is, in fact, more like three hundred kms). So this was to be my ultimate destination. According to the map the going should be flat so the cycling should be a lot easier than what I have done so far. However, I wasn't so sure that it would be flat, and I was concerned that the prevailing wind would be against me. In short, I was pretty certain that what looks like an easy route would turn out to be really hard. In the event, my previous experiences of such roads served me well and I was right. But more of that later.
However, before I turned my bicycle to head to Lefáda, I wanted to visit Delphi. To go to Delphi on a bicycle means a twelve kilometre climb on a good quality road. The steepest part is for the first two kilometres or so, when the gradient often goes beyond 10 % (it never gets to 39% as my route planner indicates - that's just silly!); the rest of the road climbs steadily with gradients mostly between 4 and 6 %. It certainly wasn't the hardest climb I've done on this tour - and it was made easier by the fact that the campsite had agreed for me to leave all my bags with them, which meant that my bike was unloaded. But, nevertheless, for someone who is new to cycling or who doesn't like hills, this road could be a serious undertaking. and shouldn't be taken lightly. A lot of cars in the campsite were carrying bicycles - but I saw no-one actually attempt the climb! Maybe they'd lost their appitite for it on the way to the campsite!
The town of Delphi itself looked very pleasant and had a good number of shops and cafés. But I had come here to see the archeological site and it was very impressive. To do the visit, you have to walk up a lot of steps. The visit in itself is quite strenuous, and today it was very hot, and there wasn't much shade. I could see that a lot of people were finding the tour hard going - but it was worth the effort. There were a lot of water taps installed all over the site so it would have been a good idea to bring a bottle. I didn't and went to the café on the site. I shouldn't have. It was very expensive, it was quite simply a rip off, and the guy who served me was rude. Better to go to one of the cafés in the town.
After I'd finished the tour, I cycled back down to the campsite, picked up my stuff and set off for Itea. Here I ate two giros - which is the Greek equivalant of kebab (a cyclist's appetite!) and then started my ride on the E65 towards Patra. Right from the start I found this road to be unpleasant. The views were nice, there's no denying it, but it's about the only good thing I can say about the road. For one thing, some of the motorists drive very fast - and many do not hesitate to overtake on a solid line straight towards you at terrifying speed. When I see people driving in that way, it makes me long for the day when cars will be controlled by GPS. Sorry to the freedom-to-drive brigade, but it's not just my life that these people put at risk, it's also the lives of the other motorists and their families. The second reason why the lovely views towards the Peloponese could not make me like this road is that, as I expected, it is very hard work. For one thing, it involves a lot of climbing. Now, how can someone who's crossed the most mountainous country in Europe on a fully loaded bike and loved every minute of it complain about climbing? Because this is the sort of climbing I hate. You climb just one hundred metres, maybe less, you descend, then you go back up. You get all the pains of climbing a mountain, but none of the rewards (ie, cooler weather, stunning panoramic views, thrilling descents...). Note that there really was a surprising amount of climbing on this road: from Itea to here the distance is 45 kms; the altitude gain during this section of the ride was 700 metres. The other reason why this road was hard was the fact that these 700 metres were climbed in a very strong head wind. Well, not always a head wind actually, it blew unpredictably in many directions (except behind you) which not only slows you down, but makes you wobble uncontrollably on an already dangerous road. Of course, had I been going the other way, the wind would have helped me climb the hills, but it didn't - it just made them harder. In a word the E65 is probably great in a car (so long as you're not of a nervous disposition) but on a bike I think it's a road to avoid if at all possible.
I spent the rest of the evening sitting at a table looking to the Peloponnese and watching the villagers. This is a lovely place. Such a shame that the road here is so bad.

The Temple of Zeus

 

The Amphitheatre

The Stadium

The view in  Ag Nikolaos from my table, looking towards the Peloponnese

Day 12: Lamia - Delphi (Chrisso)

View Day 12: Lamia - Chrisso (near Delphi) in a larger map
Distance - 110 km
Total Distance 829 km
Altitude Gain - 1454 m

The campsite was about 20 km from Lamia on an unpleasant, poorly surfaced road that ran alongside a motorway. The lady in the camping shop we went to yesterday had recommended it, rather than another campsite only 500 metres away. I think she must have confused the two: she'd said that it was pleasant and friendly. I found it to be neither - in fact it was the most disappointing of the campsites I'd stayed at so far in Greece.
Once in Lamia I followed the signs to Delphi and found myself on a fast road which turned into a motorway - but I was able to leave the road just before it became a motorway. The small road ran alonside the motorway for a few kilometres, passing what can only be described as a shanty town of tents and caravans under the motorway flyover. The views of the mountains were very beautiful, but gave me a sense of trepidation, knowing that I was going to have to cross this mountain range today, the hottest day for mant days.

The start of the first mountain climb of the day

The first climb was indeed very hot. There was little shelter and no springs alongside the road. I was drinking water very fast - fortunately I'd taken the precaution of filling all three water bottles before leaving. It was a good climb, though - the gradient was reasonable staying mostly at around 6% - the road went up and up and up without descending at all and climbing all the time. This is my favourite sort of climb. Although there's no rest from the climbing, I like roads like this because it's possible to find a ryhthm and keep to it. I was able to complete the entire climb without using my granny gears once - although I made sure I stopped every 15 minutes in the little shade I could find to prevent heat exhaustion. The road clung tightly to the side of the mountain - and offered spectacular views of Lamia. But care had to be taken - in places there was no crash barrier and it was a very long way to the bottom.

Breathtaking views, but it's a long way down!

Once at the top I took out my map and pondered the situation. I had two options: continue my original plan or take the main road to Amfissa. My original plan was to take the quitest road; but it was a little longer and, more to the point, I was concerned about water. The main road was very fast but there was a hard shoulder. I figured that along this road there would be plenty of garages, fruit sellers and the like and so access to water would be guaranteed. I decided that would be the most sensible option given the temperatures today - and if I was to get into any difficulty, there were lots of people on this road, and past experience has told me that if you look like you need help, someone will stop.

The main road from Lamia was stunning

The road wasn't bad at all. Sure, it was fast, but there wasn't much traffic and,  as usual, there was none of the antics that made cycling in southern Italy such a terrifying experience at times. I stopped off in a village called Gravia and ate in a little taverna ran by a very sweet woman who didn't speak a word of English. Communication was difficult, but we had fun trying! I didn't actually want to eat a full meal as I prefer to eat light at lunchtime when cycling, and I want to avoid spending too much. But there was nothing else. The lady looked after me well and I soon felt ready to face the second climb of the day.

The church in the centre of Gravia

Although longer, I found the climb from Gravia easier, although it did get fairly steep at the end. I found the view from the top of the road a little disappointing. But my disappointment wasn't to last for long. For once I started my descent, I was treated to a spectacular view. As I freewheeled down the mountain the view got prettier and prettier. This descent was one of the slowest I've ever done. This was in part due to the road surface and the strong headwind - but it was mostly because I kept stopping to admire the incredible beauty. I thought to myself that the car drivers probably thought I was mad when I was climbing; but I have no doubt that they were all envious of me on the way down -  for they couldn't stop where they wanted, and they couldn't safely drive at a crawl to savour the view. Only I could do that. During this descent the bicycle was the best way to travel, and everyone must have known it.
Once at the bottom of the mountain I made my way to Delphi. This meant one last climb, but in the event I only did about a quarter of it. I saw a camping site and decided to stop there. Tomorrow I will visit Delphi and my planned tour of Greece will end. I will still need to rejoin my family, though, and that will involve cycling some more. I will thus continue tomorrow, after I've visited Delphi. Now, it's time to eat and then I'll go to bed. And I have no doubt that in my dreams I will relive this amazing day - the best day of my tour and one of the best day's cycling I have ever done.

Views on the way down. Photos cannot convey the amazing beauty of this descent.

Day 11: Karditsa - up a mountain somewhere

View Day 11: Karditsa - up a mountain somewhere in a larger map

Distance - 40 km
Total Distance - 718 km
Altitude Gain - 674 m

We had a very pleasant evening last night, with Panos, his mother and other villagers sitting around the table, eating slouvaki and talking into the early hours. Panos lives in a very rural setting. He apparently used to have cows, pigs, sheep and horses but now he and his mother only keep chickens. Panos told me some fascinating stories about his village - there are enough goings on there to make it the setting for a soap opera!
The rooster woke me up very early - it was a bit tough seeing as we'd gone to bed at 2 am. We wanted to start the next leg of my journey together. But Panos had some errands to do in town, so we didn't start off until about 10.30. The idea was that we'd start climbing the mountain I had to cross together until Panos had had enough and then I'd continue by myself. Panos hasn't been cycling for long and it was his first climb. He found it tough but did very well - and it was quite a long way into the climb when he decided he couldn't go any further. He took some photos of me, we said our goodbyes and I pressed on. The only problem was that I realised a few kilometres later that the road was not the one I was supposed to take, but one that took a longer way round. I thought of going back, but it was a nice road, I had plenty of food and water so I thought "What the heck!" and continued.

A stork nest

A genuinely nice guy, Panos, enjoying his first climb.  But it was very hot!

This photo makes me look like an ultra serious cyclist!

At lunchtime, I found a spring and sat down to eat. I looked at the map more closely. The road was starting to loose its appeal - not only was it longer, it also appeared to be very much more moutainous than I'd appreciated. I'd already climbed to 700 metres in altitude and it looked like it would climb much higher. What's more, the map indicated that the route would probably include more than one climb making it a very hard and long way. I began to wish that I had been less willing to trust Panos' local knowledge without verifying that the route he had in mind was the same one I'd planned to do. I couldn't for the life of me imagine why he'd sent me up this stunning but totally impractical road - maybe he'd already gone to Lamia that way once?

The road was stunning

I decided to continue climbing to the next village and ask some locals. But when I got there, I turned round and saw, coming up the mountain,Panos' car. He stopped, jumped out the car and shouted, "Thank God I've found you! It's the wrong road!" He asked me if I'd received his text message. I hadn't - the bleep my phone makes when it receives a text message is inaudible to me when I'm cycling. I looked at my phone and, sure enough, there was a message from my friend. It said, James! You're heading the wrong way man! Where are you? Let me come and pick you up. Panos started taking the bags off my bike and throwing them into the car.
   "What are you doing?" I asked.
   "I'm taking you."
   "Where?"
   "To Lamia."
I thought about it. Even if this road was wrong, I was loving every metre of it, and I had enough food to last for days and there were water springs everywhere. On the other hand, I really wanted to get to Delphi as quickly as possible, and this route wasn't only long but involved a lot of climbing. It was already 3 pm, if I was to get to Lamia tonight (the only place in the area with a campsite) then I'd have to accept abandonning this part of the ride. I accepted, and down we drove, down, down, down past all those hairpin bends I'd cycled up and all those spectacular views came speeding back into view. "Even my car had problems getting up here!" Panos remarked as we went down.
As we drove to Lamia along most of the road I would have taken, I realised that Panos' error was, in fact, a blessing in disguise. It really didn't look like a nice road to cycle on at all, and there were no springs of cold water by the side of the road. There was no doubt that the climb I had done was far, far better than this. So maybe the gods intervened to spare me from a nasty road.
Once in Lamia we looked for a bike shop to get more inner tubes. I'd had the fifth puncture of this tour today - despite the sealant. But it turned out that the air pressure gauge on Panos new floor pump was faulty and we'd put far too much air in my tyres before leaving this morning - so I can't really say the sealant doesn't work. Then we looked for a tent shop to look for a repair kit for my tent - when the pole snapped a few days ago it actually punctured the ripstop outer, making the tent useless if it was to rain. I had to phone the shop where I bought the tent to find out what to use - and they offered to look at it when I return.
Then we drove to the campsite and Panos watched me put up the tent and get prepared. He was genuinly interested to see how I organise myself on these trips. I think that's his next project - to go camping, maybe cycle touring.
I'd just like to finish by thanking once again my friend Panos. He was as generous and kind in real life as I found him on the Greek cycling forum where I'd first met him. His mother too is an amazing woman with lots of character and astounding energy. I really hope to meet them both again. And as I told them yesterday, there's plenty of room for them at our house if they ever fancy coming to France.

Day 10: Kalambaka - Karditsa

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Distance - 69 km
Total Distance - 679 km
Altitude Gain - 395 m

I don't often get to photograph myself! And before I get any comments, that isn't a beer belly but a money pouch!

This morning I cycled the road round Metora. The whole circuit from the campsite to Kalambaka was only 12 km and took me about one and a half hours. For six kilometres the road goes up very steeply (300 metres in 6 kilometres) then it plummets down back into Kalambaka. The ascent was stunning - I cannot find the words to describe it, I'll let the photos do the talking. I took my time going up, savouring every view and taking lots of photos. As for the descent, to do this on a bicycle you need concentration, a steady nerve and excellent brakes. I only wish I had one of those helmet cams - to try to film it with a camera would have been suicidal - perhaps I'll ask Santa for one this year. Without even touching the pedals I was catapulted to a very fast speed. Just how fast I don't know - I didn't dare take my eyes off the road! Good job too - at one point two dogs ran out onto the road - a good blast on my horn scared them out of my way. Then there were the buses and cars that came the other way. And that was really early in the morning - I expect it gets really busy on that road later in the day. But, boy, that descent was fun!
After breakfast in Kalambaka, it was off to Trikala. And for the first time since I arrived in Greece I found myself on a totally flat road and I was able to keep a pace of between 30 and 35 km/h. This road I found very good for cycling and I felt very safe. It was mostly two lanes and the traffic was very fast, but visibility was good and there was plenty of room for even the trucks to give me a wide berth.
I got to Trikala really fast and explored it a bit. This town surprised me. For one thing, it was much bigger than I thought it would be and had a large town centre with a lot of shops; also, it was much nicer than I was expecting - actually it did seem a bit "posh" with many elegant and expensive stores. I was also surprised by the number of bikes - I'd also seen a surprising number in Katerini, by the way. There were bikes everywhere - and it was a little chaotic to be honest, with bikes threading around with no apparent regard for each other or for the pedestrians. Still, it's good to see that in this country, where the bicycle hasn't traditionally been seen as a means of transport, people are starting to do some of their in-town transport by bike and leaving their cars at home. Could Athens one day resemble Amsterdam? Perhaps there's hope: with a bit of pushing from the pro-bike associations, the cost of fuel and the simple undeniable fact that cycling in town centres is faster and easier than driving, maybe the Greeks will adopt the bike - maybe the British and French will too.
Anyway, once I'd had enough exploring Trikala, I was on my way to Karditsa. I'd arranged to meet Panos there, one of the guys I met on a Greek Internet forum who'd helped me plan this ride. The road from Trikala to Karditsa was not as good as the one from Karambaka to Trikala. It carried the same amount of traffic, that was travelling just as fast, but it was a single lane road with less room for overtaking, and the quality of the road surface was not as good. I was glad it wasn't particularly busy. Still, I guess it's no worse than most of the "A" roads in southern England.
In the afternoon I met up with Panos and we ate together. We talked cycling of course and got on very well right from the start. After lunch, we were on the way to Panos' car when we witnessed a motorbike accident. I guy tried to drive onto the pavement with his motorbike and a passenger on the back! The bike slipped and both fell to the ground. The guy was only slightly hurt, but his wife had a nasty arm injury. Panos called the ambulance but the guy wasn't too happy - and tried to persuade his wife to get back on the bike and go home. When she refused, he tried to leave without her, but he was clearly in a bad way and fell off his motorbike again. He then phoned his daughter, who arrived and drove off with the pair of them before the ambulance arrived - leaving Panos to explain what had happened!
The rest of the afternoon I spent talking with Panos and his mother - and had a guided tour of Panos impressive cycling equipment - including a heart rate and blood pressure monitor. Apparently my heart rate is very low and I have excellent blood pressure - benefits of cycling around Greece I suppose!
Panos and his mother have invited me to the restaurant tonight. Tomorrow we might drive round Plastira Lake - and hopefully do some cycling together! The photos below are of Meteora.

Mirrors seem to be a theme with me this year!

Day 9: Elassona - Kalambaka

View Day 9: Elassona - Karambaka in a larger map

Distance - 91 kms
Total Distance - 610 kms
Altitude Gain - 1094 m

The motel was great. It was very friendly, clean, comfortable and inexpensive. I slept like a log and allowed myself the luxury of waking up at 6am. Before starting off, I had a quick look round Elassona, which I found to be a really pleasant little place. A few kilometres into the start of the ride a motorbike pulled alongside me and the guy shouted out that I was keeping a good pace and that I'd definitely get to Kalambaka today. I hadn't recognised him, but it was Nikos, the son of the owners of the hotel - he'd given me a lot of useful information the day before. He wished me well, and disappeared down a different road.
Nikos had told me I'd find this ride today easy. But the morning started with a nasty climb up to 750 m in altitude. It may not have been very hard compared to yesterday, but I wasn't expecting it to be as difficult as it turned out to be.

I passed loads of herds of goats on this road - but I didn't have the aggressive dog encounters as some other people have reported

The start of the road from Elassona to Karambaka. This part was downhill!

Actually, in all fairness the climb wasn't too hard in itself - it wasn't steep, with a gradient not often exceeding 4 to 6%. But it went on and on and on, and the wind got stronger and stronger. Every time I thought it'd stop, I'd see more of it snaking away into the distance. Once I'd finally got to the top, the going was still hard because of the wind and the numerous little ascents and descents. But riding at over 700 m in altitude did bring one big benefit: even in the middle of the day, it wasn't very hot.

Hardly a town for 100 kms in an arid land! This is no place to have a buckled wheel or broken spoke!

Just before I reached the small town of Deskarti, just about the only inhabited place on the road, I pulled in at a garage to get some water. The guy was very nice. He invited me to sit down in the shade and gave me a bottle of water without charge. We chatted for about half an hour, and he told me the story behind all those little shrines I keep seeing by the road. Apparently people buy them and put them in the spot where a loved one has had a road accident and died. Given the number of these shrines, that makes for an unthinkable number of road deaths. With this comforting thought, I set off for Deskarti.

The shrines mark the spot where someone has had an accident and died. I saw this one later in the tour, near Karditsa. Some are more over-the-top than others!

 In Deskarti I stopped for lunch in the first place I found. As soon as I passed through the door I regretted not being more choosy. It was clearly one of those "men only" bars I'd read about. I'm obviously not a woman, but I am the next worst thing - a stranger. I didn't walk out - I'm too obstinate for that - and I would have damn well stayed there if I was a woman. So I thought I'd ruffle some feathers a bit. I asked them what they had to eat. The guy reluctantly rooted around in the fridge and pulled out something that looked like a chicken. No I didn't fancy it. "How about kebab?" the man said. It looked fresher than the chicken so I accepted. He shoved the kebabs in the microwave and asked me to sit. So my lunch was two small kebabs with some bread. It wasn't much - but it was all I was prepared to order from this shabby hole. Besides, I had the distinct impression that they were laughing at my inability to speak Greek - but it was an experience all the same and, so long as I don't get food poisoning I can put it down to being an interesting one.
After "lunch" I continued my route. The guy in the petrol station had told me that it would be downhill from Descarti. The road climbed for about two kilometres and reached the highest point of the day - just over 800 metres in altitude. It was then indeed mostly downhill all the way to Kalambaka. And now I forgave the road for the morning. The scenary seemed now friendlier, less harsh than it did in the morning, the wind died down and, most importantly, it was downhill. Oh the joy! This was really a treat. From having to slowly peg away in granny gears, I was now flying! I even took a video and, for once, I'm quite pleased with it as it captures the spirit of this afternoon's ride quite well:

As I neared Kalambaka the countryside became much greener and friendlier.

My first view of Meteora

Soon I was nearing Meteora - but I felt I was going to get the "bonk" - which in cycling jargon isn't something pleasant at all, but a sudden loss of strength due to low blood-sugar. This was no doubt due to my ridiculous lunch - but no matter, I found a peanut nougat I'd stashed away for such an occasion and my strength soon came back. Then I saw it -Meteora - the sight I'd crossed the Olympus mountain range to see. And what a sight it was, even from the road. It's just mind boggling to think that people could have constructed monasteries on the top of such massive rock structures. Tomorrow morning I shall explore more.
Now I'm in a campsite right at the foot of Meteora. It really is one of the most scenic places I've camped in since I put up a tent in the bottom of the Grand Canyon. And the campsite is itself a place to see. It's full of character decorated with family photos and objects collected over generations. It's clean, cheap and friendly. Life doesn't get much better than this!

The view from my tent

Day 8: Paralia - Elassona

View Day 8: Paralia - Elassona in a larger map

Distance - 92 km
Total Distance - 518 km
Altitude Gain - 1212 m

It seems to be a tradition on a cycling trip that when you want to leave early, there's a problem. And of course, as I hate to break tradition, this is what happened to me today. I managed to get ready really quickly after my 5am wake up call, and as I was about to leave at 7 am, I realised that sod's law would raise its ugly head once more. Remember that puncture? Well, it was back again. I'd actually noticed it yesterday afternoon and once again took my inner rube out of the tyre, plunged it in a bucket and looked for tiny bubbles. I found some - coming out of the valve. "Aha!" I said to myself, "Looks like a broken valve." So I threw the inner tube away (it's impossible to mend a valve) and replaced it. So you can imagine how surprised and annoyed I was this morning to see that I'd lost a significant amount of air overnight in a new inner tube. This was really weird and I decided to wait until the bike shop in Katerini opened to see if they could help. The guy couldn't find anything in my tyre either, so he suggested that I filled my inner tube with a sealant. This we did, and it seems to work (at least on the front tyre).
On leaving the shop I realised I didn't have my hat. So I re-traced my steps of the morning to see if I'd dropped it somewhere - but no luck. This really irritated me. I liked my hat! And more to the point I really need it in this heat. But it was lost and that was it. I had to get a move on quick as it was already 10 am and the start of the climb was 20 kms away. I considered staying another night in Katerini - but no, common sense didn't prevail and I pushed on later than I wanted and without my Indianna Jones hat.

The road  leading to the climb

At 11 am I started climbing. I knew it was the climb because it was exactly what I was expecting: the gradient of the road abruptly went up to 8% and it wasn't long before it was at 10%, all with switchbacks, which can get really steep on the inside, so I did my usual trick of cutting the corner to the other side of the road (I check for cars, of course!). Very soon I was using my granny gears, which I usually avoid, but on a fully loaded touring bike on a road like this granny gears are more than a comfort - they are absolutely indispensable. I stopped in the little town of Fotina for water. Here people drinking coffee in a bar outside waved and shouted encouragement. I sure needed that encouragement now. For, as the guy in the cycling shop had warned me, it instantly got very hard. Here the road was averaging between 10 and 12% for around two kilometres - and that's with cutting across the switchbacks. If a car comes from behind and you're forced to stick to the inside, Lordy only knows how steep it can get (I estimate 16% + !). But today was my lucky day. There were very few cars and so I was allowed to cheat.

 Looking towards Mount Olympus

Once those two kilometres were done and the climb had slackened, I decided to stop under the shade for five minutes. It was now noon and I did not want to get heat exhaustion. The views on Olympus were stunning, so I took some photos. Then it was off again. Slightly less gradient now but still averaging around 8% and it stayed that way for a while. I stopped at a spring and filled my water bottles. Beautiful cool spring water from Olympus. But this was the only fountain on the entire climb that actually had water in it. I noticed two others later on, but they were dry. Three water bottles might definetely be sensible for this route.

 The best water I've ever tasted! But it was unfortunately the only spring that wasn't dried up

At around 600 metres in altitude I noticed that the temperature was significantly lower. This was a relief, as was the refreshing breeze. But I was soon to curse that breeze, for as I climbed higher and higher the breeze turned into a head-wind. I slipped back into my granny gears, concentrated on the spectacular scenary and pressed on. I was enjoying this! Really I was!
At 750 m in altitude I arrived in the village of Ag Dimitrios. More waving, more encouragement, a kid cycles after me and is proud to say "Hello". I felt like a celebrety. But I don't suppose the folk of Ag Dimitrios are used to seeing fully loaded touring bikes passing through their village.

One of the many well-wishers I passed offered to take my photo

At 800 metres in altitude the wind was really strong. Impossible to ignore and still 200 metres of climbing left. I stopped, ate another banana (the fourth in the day!), took some photos and continued. Then the road became really steep again. Averaging 10% coupled with the wind made me feel grateful to Banana Power.

The wind swept, harsh scenary at around 800m

Another bike photo

Looking down the road from where I'd come. The wind was starting to become a problem

But steep climbs are fast climbs and before I knew it I'd arrived at the top. It was now 2 pm, I'd been climbing three hours with four bags and a tent in a headwind. And how was my back? Fine. Nothing. To think that just a few weeks ago I could hardly walk...the miracle of bicycle healing!

The top! Shame about the graffiti!

The road back down. The fun part!

Then it was down the other side. Oh boy I love descents! Even if I hated ascents, I'd still climb mountains to feel the thrill of freewheeling down a mountain. Views open up and change really fast, at each hairpin bend a new panorama, and the rush of wind past your ears. There is nothing in the world I find so exhilerating as this!
But the descent wasn't in one part but two. First from the summit where Mount Olympus stands high and proud; then 12 kms of flat on very poor, rough road surface that makes progress hard work; then a thrilling descent into Elassona past countryside that reminded me of Sicily.
So, that's it. The longest and hardest climb done. And would I do it again? Too darn right I would! - but earlier in the morning.

The view from behind. It took a few attempts to get this photo right!

The other side of the Olympus range is very agricultural

Scenery that reminded me of Sicily

Anyway, I found a motel here (no campsites) and guess what happened! Another puncture - back wheel this time. Still, it was my fault. I really shouldn't have ridden on the stone drive leading to the motel!