Taking once more to my little pig, I left Kokkinokastro behind and continued my journey slowly north toward Agios Dimitrios. Having travelled for about twenty minutes or so, I was by now familiar with the machine, and all in all the drive was shaping up to be a very pleasant one -- not least of all for the sense of intimacy that I felt for the environment having tramped all around it for the past week.
But then the inevitable happened... Like I told you, I have never had the most successful of relationships with motorbikes and it seemed that it was now time for us to have our bi-annual falling out...
There I was driving up the hill before the descent to Steni Vala when suddenly, for no reason as far as I could tell, the engine stopped and I ground to a halt on a bend. Once, twice and three times I tried the ignition but to no avail. It was no good. So, pushing her off the road I worked on the kick start, but even then the little pig refused to grunt for more than a couple of seconds. It was useless, no matter what I did or how patient I was the little swine was not for moving... by conventional means at least. But I wasn't going to let her have it all her own way. No sir-ee.
Grabbing her by the handlebars, I marched her puffing and panting up to the crest of the hill before the descent to Steni Vala, which took some doing on account of considerable bulk. Then, gently urging her forward over the crest, I hopped on her back and let gravity persuade her that maybe it would be best to cooperate with me after all. Almost immediately, she began to see it my way and so coasting along quite smoothly, we reached Steni Vala in a matter of minutes.
On reaching the harbour, I made a quick phone call and me and my little pig were separated... which could only have been for the best... and I got myself a newer, more reliable model. But unfortunately, someone had forgotten to inform the mechanic at the rental shop of my track record on two wheels as my replacement was not a quad-bike but a Vespa.
After everything that had happened I was in no position to argue, so simply took the keys, waited for him to get out of sight, took a deep breath and climbed on board. And then it was off to Agios Dimtrios with my mantra ringing in my ears: "don't fall off... don't fall off... don't fall off... don't fall off..."
And, to my credit, I didn't.
In fact, it was a really nice drive, taking it easy along a quiet road north from where I had reached the previous day, with the sea lapping a thin strip of beach to the right beginning just where the asphalt finished. All too soon, I arrived.
Agios Dimitrios, of course, is famous for its shape: a triangle of pebbly beach pointing out to sea in the direction of Peristera. As we will see later in the next post, it is best photographed from a position high up in the hills behind it, but I just couldn't help snapping the 'apex' if you will of the triangle up close:
If you look closely at this photograph you will probably be able to make out a dark blob on the beach to the left of the photograph. Once more, this is a sea urchin and once more, great care needs to be taken while swimming in the waters here as the seabed was simply full of the little blighters. (And once more I dived in without a care and was merrily splashing away quite the thing before I realised this was so... )
What else of Agios Dimitrios? Well, it is exceedingly picturesque, with good swimming and enough beach space to cater for all those who, understandably, are attracted to one of the best beaches on the island. However, if you are looking for a little more peace and quiet, can I suggest the little beach of Mourtitsa just a ten minute walk north? You can see how to get to it from this map:
As you can see, the main road ends at Agios Dimitrios but a dirt road (here marked in yellow) continues as an access road to a villa for rent which overlooks Mourtitsa. After taking a dip a Agios Dimitirios, I drove the short distance up here and was very impressed with what I found. Basically, Mourtitsa consists of a single old style villa complete with balcony of flowers looking out over the strait to Peristera above what to all intents and purposes is a private beach. And to top it all, a picturesque rowing boat lies hauled up on the little shingle beach below, just picture perfect. So much so that I spent another half an hour here on the beach just dozing and dipping... and no sea urchins!
This travelogue has been a long time in the writing, especially considering the fact that it originally started life as a hasty email to Dave and Gerry cobbling together the bullet pointed highlights of my trip to their island. But we are almost at the end. It only remains for me to describe my fourth and last walk on the island, the walk depicted here on the map above by a broken line heading first north from Mourtitsa before looping inland and round the bulk of mount Strovili, to lead back once more to the coast -- the walk through the Kastanorema gorge.
No comments:
Post a Comment