Apeiranthos, for the climb
The plan for today was to catch a local bus to somewhere outside of town, we didn’t really mind where. Another leisurely start to the day, another home-cooked brekkie, and as we sat on our balcony, the clouds dispersed somewhat and there were patches of blue sky heralding a pretty reasonable day weather-wise.
We set off to the bus ticket office at the port end of the marina promenade. The local lady behind the desk was as helpful as she could be given the language barrier, but eventually we worked out where we could go.
Apollonas? Only Tuesday. Eggares? Yes, but no return. Okay, where can we go today? Apeiranthos. Bus leaves at 11am, returns at 1.45 or 4.15pm.Sounds good to us. Outside the ticket office I asked the man next to us how long the bus ride would take. His English was about as non-existent as my Greek, so we got exactly nowhere. Mine extends to “kalimera” (good morning) which has a “best before” of noon anyway.
We had time to get coffee from our new favourite cafe/bakery and take a photo of the sign with the totally mysterious name having the letter sequence: gamma, rho, eta, gamma, omicron, rho, eta, sigma (but we didn’t know that at the time). On the bus I asked the guy behind us if he was Greek, then asked him what the word said. He said it in Greek, then in English - Gregory’s. Of course. If only I’d had my Greek alphabet ready reckoner with me I would have known for sure!!
The bus trip to Apeiranthos took just over an hour, as we wound our way through tiny villages and up into the mountains, stopping regularly to take on more passengers - little Greek widows dressed all in black with their shopping bags, little old men, mothers with children. Before long the bus was FULL, and people were sitting on laps. The route was a little unexpected, or at least different from how we’d anticipated when we consulted the map. I asked the local girls near us which way we were going. Using limited English, pointing and gestures, they showed us the stops on the way and counted “seven” using fingers. Okay, we should expect 7 more village stops before we get there? Yes!!
The landscape was beautiful - lush, green, lots of wildflowers, windmills, views of the sea and the neighbouring islands as we climbed higher. Then there were sheer cliffs on one side as we continued on towards Apeiranthos. We followed along with Google maps for a while and tried our best to snap the landscape out the not-very-clean window. Here are some of our attempts:
Sometime later we noticed the little Greek lady across the aisle, who kept making the sign of the cross in front of her chest. What? Does she know something we don’t know?? We watched her carefully and eventually figured out that she did it every time we passed a church - which was fairly frequently!! Every now and then someone would yell something from the back, and the message would be passed forward to the driver, who would reply, or else stop the bus to let someone off. It was all pretty amusing, and we knew we were getting the authentic local Greek bus experience, complete with Greek music all the way. Occasionally we would encounter another vehicle on a narrow road, and inevitably the other one would yield to the bus, except when the other vehicle was another bus, and then it was slowly, slowly, carefully, carefully, until it was all clear to continue. Phew!
We arrived in lovely Apeiranthos around lunch time, so after wandering along what seemed to be the main (pedestrianised) street, we settled on a little taverna with a lovely view over the valley and ordered some entrees to share - spanakopita, fried zucchini, and French fries. Delicious!
The village of Apeiranthos is built at the foot of Mt Fanari (we didn’t have this clue at the time), at 600m above sea level, pretty much in the middle of the island. At the entrance to the village is the impressive 17th century Zevgolis Tower, built into and on the rock. From there you can stroll along marble-strewn alleyways, past the Church of Panagia Aperathitissa, built in the 18th century. There are also a number of museums, but we felt a little “museum-ed out” after the past couple of weeks, so we decided to give these a miss.
As expected, it was cooler up in the mountains, but this was a good thing because the afternoon was spent climbing. First we wandered up and down the narrow alleys of the town, turning left, then right, heading wherever looked to be the most interesting, trying to avoid the vicious dogs barking from their high places. But it was not to be, we had to pass. Will he jump down and maul us to pieces? No, seems his threatening bark was the worst of it. Threat over, we continued on our winding, wandering way, past new and/or refurbished, inhabited and derelict.
As we climbed towards the top of the town, we decided to continue higher and tackle one of the peaks behind the town, following the track that zig-zagged up the slope. We passed a few goats, which skittered away as soon as we moved closer, protecting their babies.
Further along the road we came to a sign, but it meant nothing at the time. We could see that one arrow pointed one way, the other pointed the opposite way. Did one word mean “summit” perhaps?
We chose the opposite, thinking it might take us where we wanted to go, but we soon discovered we were getting further away from our destination. So back to the sign we went, and headed in the other direction, but took a detour off the sealed road and headed up along the “goat path” that meandered up the side of the hill. The views over the neighbouring islands was lovely.
In the end we didn’t quite make it to the summit. You know how you think you’re NEARLY THERE, then you turn a corner, and......................
Well, we didn’t do too badly. It was quite a climb, and even the local mountain goats only got a little further than we did. Today anyway. And we didn’t twist any ankles or take any tumbles either. We turned around and began our wander back down the hill, and through the town to wait for the bus.
The return bus ride was eventful. Firstly the bus was much smaller - a capacity of 33 people - and from the outset was making creaking, grinding and crunching noises, but the bus driver seemed oblivious. Then, as we were slowly descending around the steep, winding roads, with sheer cliffs on one side, we noticed the driver was talking on his mobile phone. Just what you want on the steep, narrow, winding roads of Naxos - a one-armed driver! The lady in front of us couldn’t cope with being in the window seat, so she swapped with her husband, and then we noticed her leaning into the aisle to “help” the driver stay on the road around the tight turns. She could obviously see the headlines - “Greek bus tragedy”..............
By the time we got past the first few pickup points, we were overflowing with people. They were standing in the aisles, and we were at least 10 people over capacity. The atmosphere was very close, the air con was insufficient, and about 20 minutes before our final destination there was a disturbance a few rows ahead, and it seemed someone had fainted. The bus stopped, the lady was helped out into the fresh air where she was encouraged to lie down for a short while. Eventually she recovered enough to continue, but everyone shuffled positions so she could sit at the front. I think we were all relieved to finally arrive back at the marina!
After such an eventful return trip, we decided to head for an early dinner before returning to our little studio apartment. Since we’d had such a lovely meal the night before, we chose Boulamatsis Taverna again, and enjoyed more delicious food, all the while watching out the window as the ferry came in and docked, passengers disembarked, vehicles drove off the boat, other passengers boarded, vehicles drove on, and the ferry went on its way. All up a total of about 10 minutes turnaround. Very impressive.
We wandered back via the beach, where the setting sun was peeping through the clouds, shining on the buildings and making the town look very pretty.
Comments
Post a Comment