Trekking in Evia

Dimosaris Gorge
Karystos, Greece

Tanya and I hiked the Dimosaris Gorge today near the souther tip of Evia, Greek's second largest island. The day started with a long, winding drive up a gravel road, which is sandwiched between Mount Ohi and the start of the gorge. This hike is hailed as the most beautiful on the island, with a trail bordered by luscious forest that winds, next to a dazzling stream, for a ten kilometer stretch to the ocean.

Bells guided us down the correct path. The cacophony of sound belonged to countless sheep, each with a large bell so owners can keep track of their movement on the camouflaging hillsides. As we moved through the herd the sheep scattered, wide-eyed, their fear of us greater than that of being apart.

Tanya and I moved on quickly, having little desire to disturb the fauna of the animated forest. But disturb we did. Basking lizards leapt off the path before us, by day's end I spotted hundreds. Two eagles feasting on a large, eviscerated toad took flight as we traversed a bend in the trail, shrieking their dismay at having to abandon their kill.

Dragonflies flittered off rocks next to the cascading river, looking for new perches. A snake--at least three or four feet long--writhed off the path and under a stump, trying to burrow its head into a darker and safer alcove. And finally, goats gave us a pitiful cry (while we rested next to the stream) stuck on a high mountain ledge with a light rain making their footing even more treacherous. Alas, two exhausted humans had little help to offer such lofty hooves.

This week I have been re-uniting with nature. After London, Paris, Rome and Athens, the untouristy and largely undeveloped island of Evia is a most welcome respite. I find being surrounded by living ecological systems is when I truly feel connected to both the earth and myself. I heard someone say the forest is their church; that I can admire. Thorny scratches, irritating bug bites, grimy sweat and aching leg muscles--they all are part of a most rewarding trek. In fact, without the trial and tribulation, experiencing the forest would not be the same. Getting scratched by prickly flora and bitten by tiny winged fauna is only natural. I admire my battle scars, as I call them, and deem the day more than well spent. Weary and worn with euphoric exhaustion, I look forward to the next trail.

Roaming in Rome...

A sampling of photos from Rome. Giant pizzas, fantastic fountains, Saint Peter's Basilica, and cafes next to colossal creations. As an aside, the entrance to the Vatican closed when we arrived, so we had to border-hop into the Pope's private country!

Enjoying Eclectic Europe!

Phew!

London, France, Italy and now Greece. I've often barely had time enough to breathe let alone write. Here are a few snippets from the adventures of the Mad Hatter and his three tea tarts:

London, England
Wandering along the River Thames. Jenn snaps photos of everything. I smile at her excitement and joy, despite the long flight that stirred more than butterflies in the belly. Mom and Tanya join us for part of the walk, then retreat for R&R at the hotel. Jenn and I trek onward, past Parliament, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square and Picadilly Circus. We get lost amidst the dazzle of lights, double deckers and winding ways of London streets. Buckingham Palace lingers royally somewhere to our left as we c0-navigate back to our hotel. It's nearly midnight, but, for the time being, jetlag has been deferred by the wonder and flavours of this foreign setting.

Corsica, France
Accomodation proves difficult, due to an--unbeknowest to us--Italian long weekend. We arrive on Friday night, can't find our car rental place (which we later find out closed earlier than usual, an hour before our ferry from Nice arrived). An expensive taxi ride takes us to Maloni Hotel, although we only have a single night reserved. At my request to stay five nights the owner, Alex, scolds me. "I'm booked until September!" He phones his friends in the morning and finds us a place just a few kilometers from the small town of Saint Florent. Picked up by our new host (who speaks next to no English) we go up a windy, pot-holed road with some trepidation. The place looks very green, while the stone building we are guided to looks small and weathered. Inside, complete with stove, fridge and washing machine, we realize we have stumbled across the best kind of sanctuary--the hidden and unexpected. This is why I don't like to book in advance, as such a discovery can't be found in Lonely Planet or Eurocheapo. Jenn, our talented translater, converses with the owners in French. They take us to a "sa-preeze" on the property: a swimming pool! Not bad for 80 euros a night.

Venice, Italy
After sixteen and a half hours of travel--bus, ferry, bus, train, train, train--Jenn and I stagger onto the Grande Canal. The waterway is a sight from another world, a mythical place where streets flow with water and gondoliers sing under the stars. Reflected orange in the current is the almost blazing full moon, hanging in the sky like a plump lamp, a beacon guiding us through the maze that is Venice to our hotel. We get lost. In fact, that is one of our goals on our four-day sojourn. Often, Jenn and I simply choose a direction and walk. Sometimes we end up where we started. Other times the map is our saviour. Yet always we stumble upon little treasures: a cat lounging on a bridge, a gelato shop for my daily fix, a choir singing in San Marco square, delectable vegetarian Indian food, and voluptuous Venetian masks. Our last night involves a gondola ride at night, along quiet canals, during which I spot a shooting star. La Dolce Vita!

...and now for something completely different