As team Basil awoke on 11th April 2017 on an isolated car park, at an altitude of over 4000 feet, somewhere in the Greek mountains, it was Sarah’s birthday. We had said no significant presents on this trip, but I had managed to find two bars of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk in a Greek supermarket, at to Sarah this was significant!
Birthday Girl
After tea in bed followed by breakfast, birthday girl and I left our two canine companions to guard Basil, to visit the adjacent Temple of Apollo Epicurious. Its remote position means that it is one of the best preserved Greek temples and was the first Greek site to be granted UNESCO World Heritage status. It was built in about 420 BC and has a wealth of unusual features.
Tent covering Temple of Apollo Epicurious
Although it is well preserved relatively speaking, it is still 2,500 years old and numerous earthquakes and winter snow and ice have taken their toll. A decision was taken to enclose the whole structure with an enormous while stabilisation and restoration takes place. The result is a little disappointing for current visitors but when they eventually remove the tent it will be then a spectacular sight set, as it is, in such a remote and unspoilt landscape.
Temple of Apollo Epicurious – unrenovated section
The spectacular marble frieze from the temple can be seen in the British Museum and one of the archeologists and I had a light hearted exchange of views about the presence of so much Greek archeology in the British Museum. He said he will bring himself to visit one day, but will take a small Greek flag with him!
Temple of Apollo Epicurious – Renovated Section
We set off through the mountains, back to the coast. The roads were just as hair raising as on the previous day: hairpin bends, precipitous, huge drops and roads covered in the result of rock falls. However we thought we were getting used to it. The hills were covered in a lush mixture of deciduous and evergreen trees and at this time of year the wild flowers are spectacular. We even saw a baby tortoise crawling along the road.
This is how remote the Temple of Apollo Epicurious is
Then SatNav threw the curve ball or all curve balls. The stuff that will become the basis of recurring nightmares. He directed us, innocuously enough, into a small village. Initially we were even pleased because at the time we were looking for bread. The road got narrower and narrower until I reached a ninety degree left hand bend, followed by a short steep incline, all between houses which were nearly touching Basil on either side.
The problem with a beast as long and wide as Basil is that once you have committed to a road there is no way of turning round and reversing in enclosed spaces is problematic, to say the least. I have a reversing camera and of course wing mirrors, but when the space available between buildings is only two or three inches more than Basil’s width, these only get you so far. When you then throw sharp corners into the mix, reversing is not really an option.
So Sarah and I had a discussion and Sarah nipped out to scout the way ahead. At this point an archetypical old Greek woman, dressed from head to toe in black and wearing a headscarf, appeared from one of the houses I had nearly demolished, and nonchalantly waved me forward. I took this as an indication that things would improve once I had cleared this corner and when Sarah reappeared saying the next 200 metres or so looked OK, we decided to try to proceed. With the benefit of hindsight I should have realised that an octogenarian, village dwelling Greek women was unlikely to have driven a car, let alone something the size of Basil and probably didn’t have a clue.
I revved Basil’s engine and set off gingerly round the corner and up the hill. I was too cautious and half way round the corner Basil screeched to a halt on the hill, wheels pouring rubber smelling smoke as he failed to get enough grip. I reversed and tried with more gusto. I managed to round the corner and get up the incline but not without clipping some poor villager’s wall with our awning. Luckily no significant damage done. Then things went from bad to worse!!
As we proceeded through the village the roads got narrower and rougher. Basil grounded on a number of occasions. Eventually I stopped, not sure I could go forward, certain that if I went back disaster would strike. I got out and walked 800 metres or so through the village. It appeared as if we might just make it, but without measuring I couldn’t be sure. As I returned to Sarah and Basil, Sarah was talking to two old men whose car was now nose to nose with Basil! One man indicated a path, I won’t dignify it with the word road, leading up to our left at a gradient of at least 1 in 4, and seemed insistent that I went up it. He walked off up the hill beckoning me to follow. Modern technology to the rescue. Out came Google translate on my iPhone and I typed in “It’s too steep”. I held the modern gadget out to the two old men who stared at it, mystified. Eventually it seemed to dawn on them what I was doing and after a brief discussion between themselves they appeared to understand.
They then gesticulated that I would not get Basil through the rest of the village. I thought – they’re probably right, but I’m damned if I’m able to go backwards. So I typed “I have walked the route and I think it will be OK”. They read the screen and looked to have understood, because they indicated they would take their car up the steep side road to allow us to pass.
At last we moved on. The rest of the trip through the village was just as bad. Basil’s undercarriage scraped and walls loomed on both sides. My abiding memory will be as we crept through the village square all the old men who had been in the cafe vacated their seats and lined the veranda railings to watch the stupid Englishman try to manoeuvre his expensive motorhome through their village, whose road had, for generations, been used by nothing more than a donkey!
Out of the village, all I wanted to do was reach the coast. Sarah wanted to stop to pick some wildflowers. I’m afraid I wasn’t sympathetic, birthday or not.
Eventually we reached the small seaside village of Kalo Nero and parked up on some vacant ground by the beach alongside three other motorhomes (37.29771, 21.695120). This is a well known spot for wild camping. In the summer this ground is probably thronged with people going to the beach, but at this time of year it is empty. There are several restaurants open nearby and so I hope we will be going to one to celebrate Sarah’s birthday shortly.
Basil’s new spot for the night
Kalo Nero – View from Basil’s window
Postscript
I was going to title this blog “The Basis for Recurring Nightmares”. This is not so much because of the trauma caused by today’s close shave, but because I have an uneasy feeling that one day we will get into one of these situations which we will not be able to get out of! Sarah said that at one point in the village when she was out scouting the route she looked back towards Basil and I was sitting in the drivers seat with my head in my hands. If one day we get stuck I think I will just walk away from Basil and leave the keys in the ignition, just like Michael Douglas in Falling Down, but I hope I don’t then go on a killing spree!
Yellow Wagtail – Balkan type