Gods, tombs and a fall from power

The one figure who dominates this part of Greece is Alexander the Great. We had spent the night close to the ruins of ancient Pella where Alexander was born in 356 BC. It was a wet Sunday morning walk for the spaniels before we drove to the archaeological museum which houses the artefacts found when the old city was uncovered. The most stunning items were the grave goods. The Ancient Greeks believed the dead needed possessions to take with them to use in the underworld and these ranged from household items to perfume pots and weapons and, in the case of the really well off, armour covered in gold leaf. We may think Alexander the Great lived a very long time ago, 2,400 years to be precise, but the museum had pottery that dated from 7,000 BC. It was a sobering thought that Alexander was closer in time to us, than he was to the earliest items on display at his birthplace.

Some of ancient Pella survives

Statues of Alexander are everywhere

From the museum it was a short step to the ruins of the old city itself. Not a lot remains apart from the foundations of the walls and a few restored columns. However under a layer of plastic sheeting, covered in sand were beautiful mosaics which had formed the floors of several of the houses. Luckily the museum had reproductions so we had seen what they looked like. They included one picturing the abduction of Helen of Troy, an event that led to the launching of a thousand ships and the Trojan Wars. All in all we were very impressed with the efforts being made by to preserve artefacts that are of interest world wide.

The Abduction of Helen of Troy

The rain was getting heavier as our travels took us further west to the town of Edessa where we arrived late on a Sunday afternoon. The place was busy with day trippers and the car park was full. We therefore took ourselves up the hill and parked under the trees, by which time the rain was bucketing down. The following morning, having run out of bread, we walked the spaniels back down to the town, heading straight back to the van afterwards to dry out both spaniels and humans. We spent the day in the van with the lights and heating on which used quite a bit of our battery power. Just how much we found out the next morning when we awoke to find the electrical system had shut itself down to protect the, by now, very low leisure batteries.

The rain has boosted the falls a bit

On the plus side it had stopped raining so after a short walk with the pups we drove down to the now empty car park in the town, visited the supermarket and had a trundle around the streets. We were amused to discover from notices in shop windows that the nonsense of Black Friday has reached Greece. We also spent time at the spectacular waterfalls, swollen by the recent rain, that had once powered the mills that produced hemp. 

Impossible to avoid

Obviously our electric, or lack of it, was going to be a problem, so we decided to drive back to Thessaloniki and visit the motorhome dealer where we had stopped off previously. Luckily they offer the facility for an overnight stay and the option to plug into the mains. It turned out that one of our leisure batteries had failed so we got them to install two new ones. There were eight or nine other motorhomes staying there, including two British ones and it was good to share travelling experiences with them. Most travellers in winter tend to be long-termers like us and we discovered the couple from the Midlands in the next van were on a trip lasting seven years. They very kindly invited us in while Florence was having her        batteries done. 

Behind the falls

The following morning, two new batteries installed and 460 euros poorer,  the sun was back which gave us an opportunity to pop into the truck wash next door and give Florence her first clean since Estonia. Thus it was that, in a sparkling shiny van, we set off back around the Thessaloniki ring road, which we have come to know so well, and headed south. Having spent our time with Alexander it was only fair to visit his dad so we were on our way to  the town of  Vergina  (no smutty remarks please) which houses a number of royal tombs, notably that of Philip II. 

We were not disappointed. The authorities have built a museum inside the huge mound that houses the tombs of Philip and other notable figures of his time. He was murdered while attending a performance at a theatre, which you might have thought would have been a warning to Abraham Lincoln. 

The entrance to the tomb of Philip II

We were able to see marble grave stones. more than 2,400 years old, with the names of the deceased still clear. The Ancient Greeks were fans of cremation, Philip's body being burnt on a pyre before it was put into an elaborate tomb. The museum has displays of the various grave goods including fabulous gold tiaras and armour. But the high point was walking down wooden steps to the tomb itself with its huge portico and locked iron door. It reminded me of the Indiana Jones films. 

Names 2,000 years old were perfectly legible

This gold box held the remains of Phillip II

Tonight sees us on the edge of an almost empty car park on the outskirts of the village, which we are sharing with a French couple whose van is parked just below us. For a time the rain has ceased, the sun has been out and temperatures are back into the late teens and early twenties. Next week promises colder weather as we head further south to our eventual Christmas destination in the Peloponnese. 

A painting from the tomb showing the abduction of Persephone by Hades

This man was commemorated along with an image of his dog

A town called Stavros, and floods hit Macedonia

"Hello everybody peeps, Stavros 'ere". It was all I could think of as we headed for the town of Stavros: Harry Enfield's Greek kebab shop owner. We had spent an uneventful night in a car park at the far end of the beach in Stratoni, and after a drizzly walk around town and a trip to the bakery, we were ready to move on. It was a short 30 minute drive to the north-east edge of Halkidiki where miles of golden sand welcome thousands of visitors in summer, but most places are shuttered up in November. 

Cats are also on hand to help with the catch

We pulled into a parking spot by the Stavros harbour, next to a small Spanish camper, and hunkered down to watch the rain, the anglers and the occasional returning fishing boat unloading its catch. It was a good chance to catch up with some correspondence, and do some reading. A couple of short forays into the town had established that we couldn't even treat ourselves to lunch, unless we wanted little more than a cold roll. 

The next morning was only fractionally brighter, and my morning run involved several detours to avoid flooded roads. It stayed dry enough for a trudge along the beach with the dogs, and a brief visit to the wonderful Thursday market, with its ample supplies of fresh vegetables, fish and eggs, along with some of the random assortment of goods found at almost any market in the world. 

Stavros: It's not like this in the brochures

It was the end of our ten day trip around Halkidiki, which had given us a real chance to relax and take things easy after some longer days driving and trying to see as much as possible in Romania and Bulgaria on our way through. We'd decided to head back to the Thessalonika suburb of Kalamaria, where we had spent a couple of enjoyable nights two weekends before. If you had told me that one of my favourite overnight spots so far would turn out to be a patch of rough ground on the edge of a busy city I would have been highly sceptical. But for us it was the perfect place. Still fairly clean after our litter picking on the last visit, looking straight out to sea, and right next to the lovely waterfront walk into the centre. We were able to drive straight back into the place we had been before, and the sun came out to dry the puddles.

A multi-million pound development spot, one day

A stroll along Thessalonika's waterfront

First thing on Friday morning Nick jumped into a taxi with the laundry, while the pups and I went for a walk. Nick was back in time for lunch with clean laundry for us and the dogs. We'd discovered on our previous visit that Easy Wash has special washing machines and dryers for pet bedding, much to the dismay of Max and Elsa, who view clean bedding with something between suspicion and disgust. In the afternoon it was my turn to venture forth. 


We were on a mission to find a Greek data card, as Vodafone's website is still unable to process purchases of additional data once our monthly allowance runs out. We had failed to find a sim-only data card at the Cosmote shop in Polygiros (sold out), but Nick had found one in the shop near the laundrette - only he hadn't had his passport with him for the purchase. Neither of the Cosmote shops I walked to in Kalamaria stocked them (only in the summer) and I was starting to get a little weary of their attempts to get me to trade up. So after a little more research I discovered another cost effective offer from Greece's smallest provider, Wind. I was quickly and easily able to get a free sim-card, and just pay for the data I wanted loaded. I hurried back to the van to see if it would work in the mifi, and phew, it did. Result. 

We had each done some cleaning while the other was away from the van, and Florence's insides were looking better than they had in ages. We decided to treat ourselves to a meal out, as there was a restaurant with very good reviews about five minutes walk away. The reviews were justified, and after an excellent pork fillet and sea bass, with some good and very cheap local wine, we were back at the van before the pups had even missed us. 

The water garden

There's a song about this one...

Saturday dawned fine and warm, and after a lazy start we ambled the full length of the waterfront and back. While the beach resorts are now dormant, Thessalonika is a year round destination, and the area was bustling on this fine Saturday. The new waterfront is only six years old, and Lonely Planet calls it: "evidence that architecture can change the world by changing public space and improving daily urban life." The 3.5km walkway has a cycleway, path for people with visual impairments, an avenue of shady trees, water fountains (with dog bowls) and twelve gardens with a path linking each to the next. These include traditional rose and herb gardens, water gardens, native planting, and playgrounds. There is a pet friendly garden, and one laid out with street signs to help children learn road safety. There are cafés and restaurants, tennis and basketball courts, and a bike hire place. Max and Elsa met just about every dog in Thessalonika, we watched rowers training, tourist boats pootling around the harbour and souvenir stalls setting out their wares. Really, every city should have one.  

You should have seen the crew!

When we got back to the van we had chance to chat to a Polish motorhomer with a Chausson - same make as Florence but a van conversion. They had driven down through Serbia and were planning to leave their van in Greece and fly down to travel at intervals over the winter. It was good to share stories.

Soon it was time to leave, heading west towards the great archeological sites of Macedonia. We had planned to stay the night on a farm near Pella which had been recently added to Park4Night as a motorhome stopover. Unfortunately when we got there we were greeted by a sea of gloopy red mud. Three eager young men, a Brit and two Germans, were living on the farm and helping the owner to try to restore it. They did their best to find a way for us to park, but the floods which had swept through a couple of days before had made it impossible. One of the German lads kept saying: "You just can't stop the water." They were clearly upset at the state of the farm, but unable to know where to start with the clean up. At least we were able to tell them what needed doing to allow the next motorhome to arrive a chance of parking up, and we left them discussing how to achieve it.

We are just yards from his birthplace

There were few stopovers marked on the map in this area, so we decided to head into the small village of Pella, birthplace of Alexander the Great, and see what we could find. There were no car parks, except for the archaeological sites which banned parking out of hours. There was nowhere obvious in the town, but an old road on the edge has been blocked off at one end, and you find us tonight tucked up at the side of it where we shall be lulled to sleep by the sound of traffic passing a little way away. 

It was Saturday, so JWs at the White Tower

No rowing necessary in this one

    

Mountain roads, paddling dog and a meeting with Aristotle

It can be a strange experience traveling around Halkidiki in November. This is one of the great Greek tourist destinations. In the summer months, there are acres of sun loungers on white beaches, restaurants bustling with diners and beach cafes packed with cocktail-sipping holidaymakers. In November the contrast is startling. Everything closes down, the sun shades and beach goods are packed away, and peace descends. Thus it was, that in the two nights we spent parked on the beach at Sykia, we probably saw no more than half a

Big beach, small van

dozen people, a handful of stray dogs and, to Elsa's ongoing frustration, a lot of cats.

Even the small local supermarket closes over the winter months, as I discovered when I walked there to buy some much needed wine. Luckily this was Friday, so we still had one more day to stock up (all Greek shops close on Sunday). Saturday morning saw us walk the 3.7 kilometres along mainly unsurfaced tracks to the nearest village. One of the joys of this trip is the ability to park up in and enjoy rural areas where tourists seldom venture. In Greece this means walking past tethered cows in fields without fences, picking our way past abandoned cars with weeds growing through the chassis and dodging a skittish horse wandering loose in the middle of the road.

These little shrines are everywhere

                    We try not to spend more than two nights in one location, even if the place is as quiet as the grave. Having walked the spaniels around the headland on Sunday morning, and enjoyed a game of ball on the beach, we decided to move on. As we have mentioned before, we have three months in Greece, so the pace of our journey has slowed. We arrived in the small fishing village of Ormos Panagias in time for lunch and found a parking space in the little harbour next to a Romanian motor home. On our wander out with the spaniels in the afternoon we discovered that, as we had expected, most of the facilities were closed, the notable exception being a restaurant that seemed to be hosting some sort of event, possibly a wedding. To my disappointment no plates were being smashed but I was informed by my better half that this was only done for tourists. 

Max does like a swim

Yet another walk along a long white beach gave the spaniels plenty of exercise the next morning. We decided to make the short trip back across the peninsula to a Lidl so we could do our weekly shop. Lidl has become our go-to for grocery shopping, not least because the majority of their products have English as well as Greek on the labels. We were also running low on dog food. We have to be careful what we buy as Max is wheat intolerant so we found a veterinary practice where the helpful receptionist steered us in the direction of some suitable food, bizarrely made in Ireland and rather expensive. However, no cost is too high to prevent the hazards of a dog with loose bowels in a confined space. 

Everywhere looks like a travel brochure

We drove on to Choros Olinthos, the site of an ancient city which has been partially excavated. To our disappointment it was only open between 0800 and 1400 and we arrived at 1500 on Monday. Even worse it wasn't open at all on Tuesdays. We decided to cut our losses and head back to the village of Gerakini where we had identified a place to spend the night, and a very nice spot it turned out to be. There were a number of imposing buildings along the sea front, not least a huge house that appeared to have been designed by whoever built the Parthenon, complete with sculptures and engraved stonework. We also met the inevitable dogs and stray cats that seem to be a feature of Greek life.

A windy mountain road

The following morning our walk along the beach was enlivened by Max's fascination with the plastic buoys bobbing about in the water. Swimming has become something of a pastime for him and he insisted on paddling out to check that they weren't actually ducks. We called into the town of Polygyros to see if we could get a Greek data card for our Mifi, but were unsuccessful. I have been having a frustrating battle with Vodafone because their system for adding data to our card isn't working. Their customer 'service' leaves a lot to be desired.

Back to the van we decided to cross the high ground to the other side of the peninsula. It was a wonderful drive, climbing to a height of a thousand metres on a series of hairpin bends and enjoying the autumn colours that still linger in this part of Greece. We paused in Stagira on the way down, the birthplace of Aristotle, and visited the small science park that showcases some of the ideas of this brilliant man. Philistine that I am I can't hear his name without immediately bursting into Monty

Aristotle in casual mode

Python's Philosopher's Song (bugger for the bottle). 

Tonight finds us by yet another beach near Stratoni where, once more, no one is around and everything is closed. The weather has clamped in a little and we have wind and rain. Hopefully, things will buck up again for tomorrow. 

Handy fresh water is a feature in Greece

Mountain top view

A visit from the police, and the land where females are forbidden

The knock on the van door came just as we'd returned from a morning walk along the seafront in Thessalonika. A man and a woman, not quite smart enough to be Jehovah's Witnesses, and with an air of officialdom. He quickly identified them both as police, showing me his id, and then producing two sheets of photocopy paper with tiny photographs of two men they were looking for. Apparently one was a missing person, a young Bosnian man, the other was someone he'd been seen with. They were thought to be in a motorhome, perhaps with German plates, and might turn up a "camp" like this one. Neither of us had seen them, but we took their number, and they wished us a happy holiday. 

We'd enjoyed our two nights not quite being in Thessalonika, but it was time to head south into the Halkidiki peninsula and make like beach bums for a few days. Our first stop was at Zampetas Caravans, a sales and service centre, where they allow motorhomes to park overnight without charge, or in our case, to pop in and use their services to empty the toilet cassette and fill up with water. They have an extensive camping shop too, so we bought some supplies.

Halkidiki and its three fingers

Halkidiki is like a hand with three fingers, each connected to the palm by a fairly narrow isthmus. Our plan was to stop near a canal across the isthmus of the most westerly finger, Kassandra. The weather was turning overcast, and we pulled up in a small car park on the beach at Poteidaia with only one other car in sight. A walk along the sea front revealed dozens of cafés and restaurants, all closed up for the season, but there was a sizeable stretch of beach with good prospects for ball with the spaniels. 

Canal built 2200 years ago

The next day began grey and rainy, and by lunchtime was showing little sign of improvement. We had explored the canal, initially built in 200 BCE, some remains of an old wall and lighthouse, the small harbour and the neat little town. We had planned to move on after lunch, but were assailed by an attack of lethargy, and decided to stay put and do some research instead. The forecast promised better the next day. 

A bit of castle

More bits of wall

It rained thoughout the night, and we were disappointed when the promised change in the weather seemed not to have materialised. However, by the time we'd had a game of ball and packed up it was looking brighter, and soon after that the clouds all rolled way and we were left with one of those fabulous blue Mediterranean days that can appear within minutes of heavy rain. We weren't planning to stay long in Kassandra, but did pop down to Sane, an expensive resort on the western side, where wealthy yachties and Thessalonikans spend €40 - €50 on a main course in one of the many restaurants, and pick up designer clothes and jewellery at extortionate prices. Unfortunately the car park was charging €15 a day, with no hourly rate, so with no guarantee that anything would be open to see, we cut our losses and headed across to finger number two: Sithonia.

Kassandra, from Sithonia

Kalogria Beach in November

This was our real destination in Halkidiki, giving us the opportunity to feel we are on an island, without boarding a ferry. The interior is hilly, crowned with pine forests. The edges are made up of beautiful long beaches and tiny coves, and the sea is that perfect Aegean blue of postcards and guidebooks. Our first stop was at Kalogria beach, where we were able to park easily alongside the sand with no one for company but two small groups fishing, barbecuing and having animated conversations. The water was too perfect to resist, and after lunch I tested the water temperature and went in for a swim. November or not, it was considerably warmer than anywhere in the British Isles. We had a relaxing afternoon and evening, and woke to the same blue skies and 20º temperatures. Returning from my run, I decided that it was too much effort to change into my swimming costume, and so went straight into the water to cool off in shorts and t-shirt. 

The spaniels had a dip too

Under normal circumstances Nick sweeps the van out two or three times a day. He is becoming increasingly exasperated to discover that not only are there two spaniels bringing sand into the van, but his wife is developing an annoying habit of dipping in the sea and walking back to the shower with even more sand. Oh well.

Yep, that blue

As beautiful as our spot on Kalogria was, we wanted to find somewhere we could stay over the weekend without worrying we would be moved on, and there isn't a lot of room for parking there. I also had an ulterior motive for wanting to be on the eastern side of the peninsula. So after a leisurely morning we moved on, stopping along the way for food supplies, to empty the grey water, and to admire the fabulous views as we snaked through the hills. By one o'clock we were parked on the vast beach at Sykia, with its perfect view of the third finger of Halkidiki, and its crowning glory, the magnificent Mount Athos. 

The crowded beach at Sykia

It's just as well we can admire Mount Athos from here, as it's completely forbidden for me to set foot there. Or any other woman. Or even, any other female: goat, sheep, hen, mare. All are banned. An exception is made for cats (of course) birds and insects. Why these arcane rules? Almost all of the Athos peninsula is under the control of a self-governing all male monastic community dating back more than a thousand years. In 1060 there were fears that the traditional spiritual life was being diluted, so Constantine IX banned women, female domestic animals, beardless persons, and eunuchs. And it has been that way ever since. A handful of female adventurers claim to have made it through in disguise, and a Serbian Princess spent several months being carried around to escape the plague, but never set foot on the ground. Other than that, it's men only. And even male visitors have to apply for special permits - easier if you are of the Orthodox faith - and can only arrive by boat. The land border is completely closed. 

There are twenty monasteries on Athos, and the number of monks is now rising slightly, as young, well-educated, orthodox men are attracted by the unusual lifestyle, and the opportunity to work on priceless manuscripts, artworks and artefacts. Added to the undoubted attractions of the living history is the breathtaking beauty of the mountain. Attempts have been made to overturn the ban on women on the basis that it breaches just about every international law on gender equality. So far all efforts have failed, and the nearest women can get is a boat trip from which you can admire the landscape and architecture, but not much else. Even those close down at the end of October. Still, it's a lovely view from the spot where we've chosen to spend the weekend. And yes, this is why I wanted to be on the eastern side of Sithonia tonight.

The sun sets on Mount Athos

Or was it this blue?

Poteidaia did have a rather nice church

Elsa tries to master her cat issues

Cats and boats and planes

The Greeks have turned car parking into an art form. Used as we are to the British system of neat rows of vehicles nose to tail in the streets, we are now coping with a culture that approaches parking in the way Jackson Pollock approached a canvas. The usual technique seems to be to hurl your car at the kerb and, as long as you are within walking distance of the pavement, the car can be abandoned. It is usual to see cars parked on blind bends, while the owner pops in somewhere for a coffee, and double parking is mandatory, to the extent that the streets are often partially blocked.  

Kavala Old Town gives sweeping views of the city

Parking in the city of Kavala where we had driven from our overnight above Xanthi was organised along the normal Greek lines. There had been little opportunity to take the spaniels for a walk first thing as the path we followed just ended at a steep drop into the valley. Therefore our plan was to arrive in Kavala, stop in the car park beside the ferry terminal and explore the old town. However we were thwarted by a height barrier at the car park entrance and an indifferent parking attendant. After wandering around the docks I was unable to find anywhere where we thought we could leave the van without it getting towed away, so we drove in search of a parking space.

Kavala is a city jammed between the mountains behind it and the sea in front so there is

Couldn't get much closer to the sea

very little flat space. Every bit of said space was jammed with cars, parked every which way, certainly no room for a motorhome. We therefore decided to drive to a place we had identified as a possible overnight on the western fringes of the city and take it from there. We were glad we had as we ended up on a small outcrop of land within feet of the sea. There was just space for us to squeeze in by two French vans which had obviously been there for a few days. The spot gave us a fine view of the waterside frontage of the city, with barely a sound save the lapping of the Aegean. 

The 16th century aqueduct was still in use 400 years later

We faced a 3 mile walk to get back to the old town but the spaniels were game, the sun was shining, and we could wander along the waterfront. Kavala is still very much a working port with its fish market and associated fleet of fishing boats, wharves for cargo ships and a ferry terminal so there was plenty to see for us and sniff for the spaniels. We paused for a sit down at a cafe by the docks and shared a bottle of local beer before making the steep climb up into the old town. On the way we passed the magnificent 16th century aqueduct  built on the remains of a previous Roman one. The Romans are just one set of previous rulers in this area which has also been part of the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires. Steep cobbled streets took us up to a 15th century fortress which crowns the hill before we returned to sea level and the long walk back to Florence.

As well as the French we were sharing our spot with a colony of cats who, we discovered,

Early morning view...plus cat

were looked after by a local animal welfare organisation. For some reason Elsa has a strong reaction to cats and the appearance of one outside caused her to bounce around the van, whining furiously. This was great fun for the cats that made a point of sitting in prominent positions outside our windows. 

The following morning we discovered a small park, perched precariously on a rocky mound behind the law courts which was good enough to walk the pups. When we got back we were informed by one of our French neighbours that the police had popped in and told them to move the following morning. We had, in any case, decided to move on that afternoon as we wanted to get to Thessaloniki where we had identified a convenient laundrette, and we had found a place to overnight not too far from that city.

Kavala is sat on a beautiful bay

Our route took us to a Shell garage, with an all too rare motorhome service point, and we then went in search of LPG. We were somewhat taken aback when we pulled in to another Shell garage when the man there refused to serve us claiming that filling gas cylinders was illegal. We actually have a certified refillable system but he was having none of it. Further along the road we found a BP garage where they were happy to top us up, although we took the precaution of keeping the gas locker closed so he could not see what he was filling.

The laundrette catered for everyone

That night was spent in what had once been a landscaped parking area in a small village that had obviously seen better days and now had weeds sprouting through the concrete. It was a scenario we had already encountered in Greece, a sign of the massive recession that had hit the country since it had been allowed to join the Euro and brought a sharp decline in public spending. But it was quiet and peaceful and and a large area of grass gave us somewhere to play ball with the spaniels and make an early departure for Thessaloniki the following morning.

The plan had been to visit a laundrette on the south of the city. We had chosen Sunday morning believing that the Greek law closing all shops on the Sabbath might allow us to find somewhere to park. We were disappointed. Having squeezed our way through a series of narrow streets lined by parked cars (see Greek parking habits above) it was clear that parking was not on the agenda, certainly not close to the laundrette. By chance we spotted a sign which said 'motorhome parking' and we set off in some hope. We eventually found a steep car park which, in fairness, did have a number of spaces marked out for motorhomes, all of which had been taken up by vans and lorries. We did find a space at the top and having had a precarious 45 degree breakfast, we made the 25 minute walk back to the laundrette carrying our dirty washing.

A bit of art in the sea at Kalamaria with Mt Olympus
in the background

By this time we had given up any thoughts of going further into what was obviously a busy and crowded city so we drove down to the harbour area in Kalamaria where we found a large piece of rough but level ground and joined a number of motorhomes including ones from Poland, Finland and a massive coach-built monster from Germany. On a warm sunny afternoon the place was busy with locals enjoying a stroll and eating in the many cafes and restaurants. A walk along the promenade seemed essential and we watched people queueing to board an old Greek warship, now a floating museum, and dodged electric scooters, bikes and four-wheeled pedal carts. All this excitement brought on a thirst so we popped into a cafe for the obligatory beer.

This museum ship was originally a WW2 US Navy destroyer

We had seen reviews that warned the site was noisy but, in the event, apart from the odd plane descending to the local airport, we had a quiet night. This morning, the sun was shining again so we took the decision to stay another night. Time is less pressing now we are in Greece, somewhere we intend to stay for three months. It was therefore, an opportunity to pop to the local supermarket and do some essential cleaning inside the van. A French couple next door to us spent some time picking up litter around the vans and Neri did her bit with black plastic bag and rubber gloves while I cleaned the floor in Florence. Litter is something of a problem in Greece, local authorities don't seem to have the money to provide enough bins, and the populace are fairly cavalier with their refuse. Tonight things are even quieter, just a few fishermen on the quayside and the occasional plane. Tomorrow it's south to the triple peninsula of Halkidiki where we intend to spend some time. Hopefully the weather will continue fair. 

The 15th century White Tower acquired the name Tower of Blood
due to the activities of Ottoman torturers and executioners