A Greek Mountain Odyssey 

Views en route to Smolikas - photo Alastair Govan

2020 was, of course, a difficult year for overseas travel, but this trip was booked long before COVID-19 reared its corona. As it turned out, September was a ‘sweet spot’ between lock-downs and there was no reason to cancel. The original plan was two weeks around Athens and Crete, but I extended it with a further ten days around Thessaloniki in the hope that Scottish quarantine requirements might be lifted by the time I returned (which didn’t happen..).

Greece is great in September - not too hot; warm seas; fairly quiet with plentiful accommodation and tavernas; inexpensive and safe; friendly people with English widely spoken. And there are lots of mountains, mostly in the 2000-2500m height range, rocky but non-technical. There are eighteen Ultras in Greece, including two on the northern borders – I had done six on previous trips and hoped to complete the remaining twelve during my four-week stay.

Weather is unlikely to present a serious obstacle in Greece, but in recent years the Mediterranean has started to have an autumn ‘medicane’ season, analogous to the hurricane season in other parts of the world, with sometimes disruptive winds and rain. But I lucked out – a severe but short-lived medicane struck western Greece and Crete later in my trip, while I was in the largely unscathed eastern part of the country. The biggest risk in Greece, particularly the mainland, are semi-feral packs of dogs, which can be very scary, especially as the locals don’t seem much bothered about them. I was advised that a good strategy is to pick up a stone and look like you’re going to throw it – this worked surprisingly well the one time I tried it, but I’m not sure it would be effective against an aggressive pack of them.

With a few exceptions, the Greek mountains are quiet and unfrequented but, even so, almost all  my twelve targets had paths with some form of markings, though not always easy to follow. However, digital (and paper) maps can be purchased online from Anavasi for eight of the hills so, also armed with the Avenza map app, route-finding was rarely a problem. I also relied heavily on online route descriptions, especially those of Petter Björstad. In a few cases Petter’s description is out-of-date.  For example, there’s now a wind farm on Psili Korifi, and I was able to drive almost to the summit. As in the UK, I feel no obligation to leave the car and walk any further than necessary!

In the first week I did a circuit from Athens taking in five mountains, four of which were rather dull while the other, Smolikas, was the standout exception. It is located in the north-west of Greece, in a beautiful area of canyons, forests and alpine meadows. Apart from a shepherd with his flock, there was no one else around. There is a well-built mountain refuge near the start of the route but, as with many of these in Greece, it seemed to be deserted.

The second week, on Crete, was a very different experience. All three summits are, not surprisingly, much more arid than the hills of northern Greece. All have marked paths and good views and the highest,

Timios Stavros, Mount Ida, is quite popular. It must be said, however that the most dramatic scenery on Crete is in the numerous gorges such as the Samaria Gorge, which we also hiked during our visit.

The final part of my journey, from Thessaloniki in north-eastern Greece, provided the two most interesting summits of the trip. Samothraki is a remote and rugged island halfway between Greece and Turkey, somewhat off the tourist trail so facilities are fairly basic and low key. It’s an island of rocky ridges, waterfalls, gorges and deserted windswept sandy coves. The summit of Fengari has sections of ridge a little reminiscent of the Cuillins on the Isle of Skye, Scotland, especially in the damp mist enveloping it while I was there!

However, the ultimate highlight of the trip was Mount Athos, an isolated, rugged finger of land protruding 50km into the Aegean Sea. The territory operates as a semi-autonomous Orthodox community with very restricted access - strictly no women, and for non-Orthodox men only ten permits per day are issued, allowing stays of up to three nights. The peninsula is a UNESCO World Heritage site, home to over twenty spectacular monasteries which are up to a thousand years old.  These provide the only accommodation for ‘pilgrims’ (not tourists…). Although there is a land ‘border’, access is only by sea (with a ‘customs’ check on the return trip). The boat ride is superbly scenic, stopping at several monasteries en route. Mount Athos itself, 2033m high, has a prominent position near the end of the peninsula, in an area remote from most of the monasteries and with no vehicle access. During my two-night stay I came across only one other non-orthodox ‘pilgrim’, while the rest were all Greek, Romanian, Moldovan etc. Interestingly, on Mount Athos, no one paid any attention to COVID-19. Despite many of the ‘fathers’ being quite elderly, they perhaps felt that the disease was a modern creation which didn’t really concern them.

So, the eighteen Greek Ultras are now complete for me, which is satisfying but also a little sad. I love Greece but I no longer have any mountain objectives there. That said, it’s probably not difficult to think of another reason to go [Ribus, perhaps? Editor] …… !