We leave Arezzo and head to Lucca and our next house-sit…yes, it’s time to buckle down to some serious pet-minding and mince pies, teetering over the Tuscan hills….
Apart from Terry’s near nervous breakdown at driving the van up here, this place is stunning. We do a massive food-shop and prepare to baton down the hatches for a while…Did someone mention Christmas….?
We leave the balmy Peloponnese climate and catch our ferry to Ancona… even manage to drive over to Arezzo before it is dark. Next day we awake to white frost and brilliant blue skies, and decide to investigate Siena…via the mountains….it’s a spectacular route, and we’re not taking any notice of the snow on the ground – I think it’s a denial thing….
Siena is lovely…
Can’t think why they’ve got a Christmas tree up….
…when we’re soaking up the sunshine…
…and wandering round the streets sight-seeing…
…and getting lost…?
It’s time to bid farewell to the olive groves and vineyards of Aristomenis…
…and leave our house-sit in the Pelopponese, so it’s a fond farewell to The Dog (who didn’t look as if he cared one jot) and the three amigos (the cats) and off we head towards Pilos, on the West Coast. What a beautiful town…
…despite the heavy skies and the rain…
Next day, we head up the coast, stopping for lunch in a desert wilderness…with a huge mirage that looks rather like the sea…
…and on to a lovely campsite by the name of Ionian Beach, and of course, it is right on the….
We even make friends in case we were missing our kitty companions from the house-sit…
…or was it this way round…..?
It’s a lovely day, though hazy, so it’s a good time to take a trip up to Ancient Messini. We think of taking The Dog with us, but this turns out to be more complicated than we thought. First of all, by putting the lead on him he thinks we’re going for a walk. We encourage him into the van, but as soon as there’s half a chance and before I can shut the door, he’s jumped out. Because, of course, he’s ready for his walk. No amount of explaining to him that his walk today will be up in the mountains (in one of the places, no less, that the famous Dog, or was that God, Zeus was born) persuades him that he wants to get in the van. Eventually we coax him in, and we’re all set, with makeshift dog-guard of a camping chair blocking the aisle. We begin to drive off, but…who is this virtually sitting under the clutch pedal? Come here, I say, which, being a cheerful obedient thing, he does. Very “here”, I would say. Actually, extremely enthusiastically. Actually, on my knee. It’s no good, we agree, we will have to leave him behind and walk him later…
A drive across the mountains and we arrive at the beautiful village of Ancient Messini…
Right, we say, first we’ll hop up to Zeus’ temple…
…which is a little more challenging than we had imagined…
…not purely on account of the prickly cactuses… It seems like miles…and I think I might expire…
Eventually, however, we reach the top, and the church, all locked up and no-one to take our money, had we been proffering any…
It’s quite amazing to think of people building up here all those centuries ago…
To return to the village, we decide to walk down “the road” – which is a brown earth track and again, rather further than we think. Are we glad to see our van with the sandwiches and water inside!
Gluttons for punishment, we head for the ruins of the old City which includes theatre, gymnasium, citadel, market place, etc, etc. This place is amazing…
We are so tired we can hardly do the place justice, and certainly don’t see it all, but what a sense of history here…Then it’s a quick café frappé on the terrace of a fantastic little café, before heading back through the hills (Wendy almost gets the sack when we think our road is about to turn into a dust track through goats, chickens and olive groves). Oh, and we’ve still got to walk That Dog…
This week it’s walks and more walks amongst the olive groves…
Then it’s off to explore the darling of the Peloponnese (allegedly at any rate) – Koroni. It’s not great weather but then it’s not raining either, and I still manage to walk round in a T-shirt some of the day. Koroni is an interesting and beautiful place with its Venetian citadel lording it over the town…
and its quaint village houses and churches…
…but there ain’t many folk around. At least a baker’s is open and we can make a lunch of delicious cheese pies!
It’s all change, and we suddenly have to head for Greece for an appointment with a very important dog and three superior cats. No worries, we think, we’ll head down the Dalmatian Coast to Dubrovnik, then drive on down. And it’s so beautiful… There are lakes…
…and mountains reminiscent of Corsica…
…and we think we have all the time in the world…Only, we discover that finding a route to Greece is not as easy as it sounds. When we arrive in Dubrovnik, not only does the whole place seem shut up, the advertised twice-weekly winter ferry service to Bari “is feenish”, according to the girls in the ferry office. What’s more, there aren’t any ferries to anywhere from Dubrovnik. No campsites open for sleeping either…
So it’s back up the Dalmatian Coast on to the motorway, near Ploce…
…only, the motorway lasts but a short distance, before the route takes us up a mountain road… After what seems an eternity of beautiful rural Croatia we join up with the next piece of motorway… They’re still building it, you see, but no one seems to warn you of that…
Deadline’s getting close, and we have no internet to tell us where we might be able to catch a ferry, so we hammer back up through Slovenia and round to our lovely Fusina campsite just outside Venice. Phew! Then next day, hurtle on to Ancona. Can we catch a ferry to Patras, we ask, at four-thirty in the afternoon. Good ol’ Minoan Ferries – “Certainly, Madame, there is one at five-thirty.” So, it’s a rapid embarkation, pack an overnight bag for the cabin and Bob’s your uncle, we’re sailing for Patras, with a free dinner thrown in!
It’s getting dark by the time we arrive off the ferry the next day, and no camp sites open, but we find a generous-hearted hotel owner who allows us to sleep in his car park. No strings attached, but all the same we book breakfast with him. And what a superb breakfast it is, overlooking the sea…
Then it’s a night in Petalidi – fab little town and harbour – before heading up to the Peloponnesian hills to meet Roger, the dog. A cheerful little chappie, who though sad to see his owners depart for their holiday, is more than happy to show us the local olive groves and historical monuments…
Time to hole up for a while…
It’s on towards the Dalmatian coast, and what a fabulous spot to stop and brew up a cup of coffee…
We arrive at Split mid-afternoon, wondering what we’re doing in amongst all the skyscrapers, flyovers and great rumbling lorries…that is, until we turn the corner into our campsite…what a little oasis! Nicely run, too!
Then next day, it’s a short bus ride into Split centre. What a treasure! It’s hard to think this place was war-torn only a few years ago. The old town is a wonderfully preserved relic of the Roman empire…
The cathedral dates back to the 7th century…
And then there’s this ol’ geezer…
…with rather large feet…
Bet they’d have trouble fitting him out in Dolcis…
This place is definitely worth a visit!
Yes, it’s on the road again…the weather’s finally cleared, and what a fantastic journey it is down from Krk to Starigrad-Paklenica, on the edge of the National Park.
It’s a rugged coastline, barren and rocky… but our camp site for the night is idyllic…
…with a pleasant little harbour to wander round…
Croatian, I have discovered, is not an easy language to get my head around. Despite my smatterings of Greek, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish and Portuguese, there are still few clues. For instance, whilst trying to buy eggs in the supermarket, how to tell if they are free-range and preferably organic? No translations on the box. In the end I select the box with the smiliest chicken on the box. Well, what else can a poor gal do?
We pack up and leave Fusina, heading east and then south through Slovenia, where the autumn colours through the mountains are wonderful. We arrive on the island of Krk, Croatia by late afternoon. It’s a lovely place, or would be if the weather was half decent. This is the view from our camper van…
Krk is an old walled city (the Romans were here, of course!)…
…with a lovely harbour…
There’s hardly anyone around though…and uh-oh, it’s getting wetter…
