The new header photo above was taken in Rhodes - thought I'd include a few people this time, since people are a big part of what travelling's all about, for me.
As you'll remember, perhaps, I went on a hiking trip. Actually there were just two of us - T. and me - because we were going so early in the season, so we had our guides, Richard and Phil, completely to ourselves (usually just one at a time though) and they were great company. They also tailor made a trip to suit what we wanted and felt comfortable with.
So Richard was taking us on a walk up Akramitis, the second highest mountain in Rhodes. It's not actually that high, and once you're over the summit, you descend into a beautiful valley with views of the sea, which eventually winds down towards a small chapel and then ends up in a village with the imposing name of Monolithos.
Although we were nearly blown off our feet by the wind at the top, the descent into the valley made me think of those old stories where pilgrims reach a haven and realise they're approaching somewhere they want to be. The sea was deep blue and covered in "white horses" whipped up by the wind,
and as we descended, we saw that the rocky slopes were covered in wild flowers,
including jewel like anemones of many colours from deep red to palest mauve
or shocking pink.
So we walked through this natural paradise till we came to a chapel where Richard suggested we ate our bread and cheese.
The chapel was very tiny, situated on a track several kilometres from the nearest village. When we arrived, we saw a bonfire burning and people apparently camped around it. As we settled to eat our picnic, several people from the group came and asked us to join them and share the souvlaki they were cooking on the bonfire.
It turned out that they were from the local area. They'd decided the chapel needed freshening up and repainting, and had decided to spend the weekend doing it. (Here is how far they had got - note the bags of building materials, all carried in on the path)
.... and when they saw us, strangers, sitting there, they invited us to share their food.
This is so very typical of rural Greece, when people don't seem able to bear it if they don't make you feel welcome in their territory. We had a great chat with them - many of them spoke good English - and went on our way feeling happy.
This kindness to strangers is one of the many reasons that Greece has a special place in my heart and why I'm wondering why on earth it's been so many years since I was there. I suppose I was a bit scared it would have changed, and become full of tourist touts. Or that the recent troubles there and anti-immigrant feeling we have seen on the news might have spread out and polluted the atmosphere.
Rhodes hasn't had the economic problems of Athens, and those we spoke to were disparaging of the neo-fascists, (while recognising the protest-vote element of their fairly short lived support). Of course things are always worse in cities, but even there the standard of honesty and friendliness is generally high in Greece.
As we walked around the lonely tracks in the countryside, we were offered all kinds of small gifts from strangers - oranges, flowers, fizzy drinks. A charming family who had climbed up the 300 steps to the monastery of Zambikos gave us some fabulous mushroom pies. I'll write about Zambikos on my next post about Rhodes.
Usually I hesitate to give too many glowing recommendations, because I often don't pay for my own trip, and I really don't like the feeling that I'm advertising. However, I paid my own way entirely on this trip to Rhodes so T and I have no hesitation in recommending the company we went with, "Walking Rhodes." Phil and Richard really knew what they were doing, knew lots of interesting places we'd never have found ourselves, and generally seemed to love their work. Everything was organised for us apart from the flights, and we were happy with it all. And given that I have been on some pretty amazing trips it's good to be able to say that.
As you'll remember, perhaps, I went on a hiking trip. Actually there were just two of us - T. and me - because we were going so early in the season, so we had our guides, Richard and Phil, completely to ourselves (usually just one at a time though) and they were great company. They also tailor made a trip to suit what we wanted and felt comfortable with.
So Richard was taking us on a walk up Akramitis, the second highest mountain in Rhodes. It's not actually that high, and once you're over the summit, you descend into a beautiful valley with views of the sea, which eventually winds down towards a small chapel and then ends up in a village with the imposing name of Monolithos.
Although we were nearly blown off our feet by the wind at the top, the descent into the valley made me think of those old stories where pilgrims reach a haven and realise they're approaching somewhere they want to be. The sea was deep blue and covered in "white horses" whipped up by the wind,
and as we descended, we saw that the rocky slopes were covered in wild flowers,
including jewel like anemones of many colours from deep red to palest mauve
or shocking pink.
The chapel was very tiny, situated on a track several kilometres from the nearest village. When we arrived, we saw a bonfire burning and people apparently camped around it. As we settled to eat our picnic, several people from the group came and asked us to join them and share the souvlaki they were cooking on the bonfire.
It turned out that they were from the local area. They'd decided the chapel needed freshening up and repainting, and had decided to spend the weekend doing it. (Here is how far they had got - note the bags of building materials, all carried in on the path)
This is so very typical of rural Greece, when people don't seem able to bear it if they don't make you feel welcome in their territory. We had a great chat with them - many of them spoke good English - and went on our way feeling happy.
This kindness to strangers is one of the many reasons that Greece has a special place in my heart and why I'm wondering why on earth it's been so many years since I was there. I suppose I was a bit scared it would have changed, and become full of tourist touts. Or that the recent troubles there and anti-immigrant feeling we have seen on the news might have spread out and polluted the atmosphere.
Rhodes hasn't had the economic problems of Athens, and those we spoke to were disparaging of the neo-fascists, (while recognising the protest-vote element of their fairly short lived support). Of course things are always worse in cities, but even there the standard of honesty and friendliness is generally high in Greece.
As we walked around the lonely tracks in the countryside, we were offered all kinds of small gifts from strangers - oranges, flowers, fizzy drinks. A charming family who had climbed up the 300 steps to the monastery of Zambikos gave us some fabulous mushroom pies. I'll write about Zambikos on my next post about Rhodes.
Usually I hesitate to give too many glowing recommendations, because I often don't pay for my own trip, and I really don't like the feeling that I'm advertising. However, I paid my own way entirely on this trip to Rhodes so T and I have no hesitation in recommending the company we went with, "Walking Rhodes." Phil and Richard really knew what they were doing, knew lots of interesting places we'd never have found ourselves, and generally seemed to love their work. Everything was organised for us apart from the flights, and we were happy with it all. And given that I have been on some pretty amazing trips it's good to be able to say that.
