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Friday, October 4th - Ioannina to Kalampaka - 12,547 km
It is strange to wake up under a canoe. I push my bags onto the concrete foundation the canoe rack is built onto and slide down off the platform to sit beside them. It is a perfect morning. The Christians are gone. It is slightly cool and brilliantly sunny. There is no indication there was a powerful storm a few hours earlier, except for leaves and twigs broken off the tree above and some debris washed up by the waves. The lake is relatively calm with only a small breeze coming across the lake from the northeast. My aim last night was to stay safe and dry and just make it through the night, but I actually had an excellent sleep. This outcome is amazing and delightful. I remembered to take my odometer off last night so it is still working today. I load my bags onto my bike and ride into the city to find a coffee and something to eat.
Today I am climbing over the spine of Greece that separates the west side by the Ionian Sea from the east side by the Aegean Sea, a climb of 1240 m. The highway curls around the north side of the lake, the way I first took yesterday on my way to the Vikos Gorge, but I continue around the lake instead of going north. On the far side, the road begins to slowly climb the mountainside at a steady, but not too steep grade. By the time I lose sight of the lake I have already done a third of the climb to the pass.
As luck would have it, the road now drops back down to the level of the lake to cross the next valley and the climb begins again. There is a headwind as the road climbs along a ridge and it catches me here and there whenever I am not protected by the forest or folds in the landscape. The climb is gentle while the road follows a
river valley, but the river dries up to a small stream and the road climbs steeply as it snakes along the undulations of the mountainside. I round a bend in the mountain and I'm greeted with the headwind again, but also a view of a village cascading down a mountainside in the distance. This is Metsovo, the last town before the pass.
Metsovo is famous across northern Greece. It is an artisans' town up amongst the sheep pastures near the spine, well known for its weaving and other crafts. The town is below the highway. The steep road leading down into it is dirt and gravel. The Michelin Guide recommends it so I descend the road carefully and tour several of the shops. I buy a small woven rectangular area rug for my parents and they pack it for shipping while I am there.
I grind my way over the slippery gravel up the road again. I pause to mop off the sweat and start the final, gentler assault up to the pass. Here, the road rounds the end of a mountain valley, climbing in steps for the last 500 vertical metres. It reaches the top of a ridge and climbs along it to the pass, three kilometres further along. Here, rolling alpine meadows have replaced the forests and wind has picked up significantly. I am feeling tired but pleased with myself to have made it this far today.
A pickup pulls over in front of me. A handsome young driver and his girlfriend offer me a ride from here to Kalampaka. I accept their kindness and generosity and the opportunity to meet them because the afternoon is getting late, but by doing so I lose the sense of achievement of reaching the pass myself and the thrill of the long descent over several kilometres, my reward for such a long, hard climb.
The driver, Stephanos, throws my bike and bags in the back while I climb in beside his girlfriend, Helena. They are happy to have me on board but they speak very little after the first couple questions. The pick up reaches the pass in no time at all as I was quite close to it. The far side to the east is largely in shadow by this time of day. The road twists back and forth as it drops rapidly. Stephanos is showing off by driving fast, but maybe he does this all the time as Helena doesn't flinch as we sway back and forth.
The steep mountain valley gives way to a broad plain that spreads out before. This is the ancient Plain of Thessaly, site of the powerful city state in the fourth century B.C. It became part of Macedonia for centuries and was reunited with Greece only 110 years ago. To the left of the plain is a dramatically tall outcropping of sandstone pillars a couple hundred feet tall. This is Meteora, the second 3-star attraction in northern Greece listed in the Michelin Guide.
Stephanos and Helena drop me off on the main street of Kalampaka, the town at the base of these looming towers immediately to the north of it. Part of the town is flat and part is sloping up towards Meteora. Like Ioannina, Kalampaka (or Kalampaka as I sometimes see it referred to) has lots of unextraordinary architecture, much of it made of cinder block bricks. Much of the town seems geared for tourists – hotels, bus tour offices, souvenir shops – but because it is now October, there aren’t many of tourists and it feels a little empty.
The hotel prices are cheap in the off-season. After getting a room, I stroll down the main street and buy a shwarma sandwich of shaved chicken meat in a pita. It is greasy but delicious. I hadn’t realized how hungry all my climbing had made me. Now that I am relaxing here, I realize I would have arrived just after dark if the couple in the pickup hadn’t stopped, and I am grateful for their kindness.
There is nothing much to do here, which is what I expected. I am sipping tea in one of those unassuming chai shops with its bare-bones, hard times décor – with its high ceilings, turquoise paint job, chipped plaster and a couple faded photos of Meteora on the walls. I am the only non-local sitting here. There are no women, just a dozen old men missing their dentures, sitting quietly staring at me, distant yet curious. I acknowledge them with a nod and a couple of them half raise their hands off the table, a subtle reflection of my salute. Back in Toronto that might mean ‘fuck off’, but there is no need for meanness here.
Back in my simple but clean room, I study on my Michelin Guide description of Meteora before bed. Before I set off towards Mt. Olympus tomorrow, I will spend a couple hours touring Meteora without my bags.
PHOTO 1: Ioannina from across the lake, leaving town
PHOTO 2: climbing up the mountain opposite Lake Ioannina
PHOTO 3: starting the ascent to Metsovo
PHOTO 4: getting up there, still before Metsovo
PHOTO 5: fields below Metsovo
PHOTO 6: women of Metsovo
PHOTO 7: above Metsovo, leaving town
PHOTO 8: nearing the pass at the spine of Greece
PHOTO 9: entering Kalampaka
PHOTO 10: looking up at Meteora from Kalampaka
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