Kalamata – Mani Peninsula – Monemvasia – Sparti – Kalamata – Pilos – Kalamata (600 km cycled)
While early retirement and an early vaccination gave me (Kurt) freedom, a miserable weather forecast gave me a good reason to go for a spin in the sunshine… in Greece.
More than 40 years ago, I used to ride my motorbike down to this lovely part of Europe. Even back then, I thought of it as a possible retirement option. Of course, back then the attraction was to be not only away from home, but to be elsewhere, and since this was one of the very few elsewheres I knew, it took on an importance befitting a long-term plan. In the meantime, life happened (a lovely one I have to say) and my focus on a single place got lost on the way. Still, I was looking forward to re-exploring that former paradise of my imagination.
Edelweiss (again, and they don’t pay me) brought me and my bike to Kalamata airport; a handy little airstrip with a small but functional shed for the arrival/departure rituals.
Kalamata town has been recently rebuilt after a devastating earthquake reduced it to rubble in 1986. It has a lively upper town around the old centre and a newer one along the seafront; both with a lot of restaurants and hotels. Between the two parts is a lovely open-air museum around the former station, full of old locomotives and trains going nowhere.
Mani is the middle finger of the Peloponnese and it’s a very traditional area too. Never conquered by the Ottomans (not much to gain there anyway), the traditional villages have a few tower houses to defend themselves against invaders and, as is only natural, for a bit of mine-is-bigger-than-yours bragging.
On my right, cliffs alternated with beautiful little beaches, while to the left the land rose up to the highest mountain in the area (Prophet Elijah at 2404 masl). Agriculture was almost exclusively in the form of olive groves. There are two reasons why you can find olives from Kalamata in your supermarket shelves: a) there are plenty of them and b) they are very good!
The stretch over to the eastern finger had a lot of orange and apricot plantations in the irrigated plain, while olives occupied all the other plots.
Just south of Monemvasia, there was a taverna I used to frequent in my youth. It’s still there, and it’s still possible to sit under the same big shady tree. The owner has changed and there is even a very creative/traditional menu now. If you’re in the area, it’s called Athivoli. And, of course, the rock with the old town and the fortification on top is still there too. Like in the old times, I climbed up and just had to share the place with a few spiders that put up nets as if they wanted to catch a few straggling tourists. Give them a couple more years and they might refine their strategies and be able to live off us 
The old town had only rain as a source of water, so the houses were built in a way to catch the runoff from the roof and save it in their cisterns.
Sparti is a modern town, but I wanted to go to Mystras, another fortified hill nearby. Like Monemvasia, it was built by Frankish crusaders that took it from their Byzantine fellow Christians. The third ruler was captured by Byzantine forces and had to hand over his strongholds to gain his freedom. It must have been a big blow to his ego, but unlike his soldiers and forced labourors, he did not sacrifice much of his own blood, therefore his sufferings don’t deserve much pity.
Later the town was conquered by the Ottomans and life was good until the War of Greek Independence. Now, all the minarets are gone, the churches have been restored and, like everywhere, history is written by the winners. Still, it’s a great place to stroll around and the little village with its hotels and restaurants makes for a good basecamp.
The pass over to Kalamata was the highlight of the trip (pun intended!). Almost alpine, with switchbacks in a gorge to start with, Alpine meadows higher up, a taverna on top and then a good downhill on the drier western side made for a wonderful ride.
What remained now was to explore the western finger. The first stop was
Voidokilias beach, regarded as one of Greece’s finest; a perfect horseshoe guarded by numerous outcrops, one even has a Neolithic grave on top. Then onto Pylos, a lovely town complete with harbour and castle. As the sea battles of Lepanto and Navarino demonstrate, this was a strategic corner of the world, controlling the spice trade from Alexandria to Venice. So, whoever could collect taxes here had enough money for much needed fortifications.
The Venetian Castles of Methoni and Koroni were built with the same intentions. In short, a place that offered a livelihood from time immemorial and I doubt that these earlier settlers moved there to avoid rheumatism 😉
And after all that food, some wildlife…
And due to poular demand, a beer reference: A happy man found the perfect place on a terrace 😉 Cheers!
Conclusion: These two weeks of pre-summer where a tonic; the musings of my 20-year-old former self still understandable; the food better than I had remembered; hotel beds softer than a sleeping bag on stony barren ground under an olive tree and the traffic much more peaceful then what I recall from my motorbike saddle. So, if you need an idea for a shoulder-season trip, this would be one of the most rewarding ones I have ever done!