There’s a place you really must visit.

But I won’t tell you it’s name or where it is until later. And this will be the last of my semi-live travelogues, because (as of this point in time) in less than 24 hours we shall be well on the way toward blighty and home.

For the last 2 days here we’ve hired a car and driven over 300 kilometers across this island. There is a LOT that we’ve not seen, and when we do come back (probably late in the season) we shall want a car for the duration again. The trips from the hotel are great, and you certainly see things that you couldn’t find alone. Conversely, because they must be adapted to suit a wide clientele and the limitations of staff/transport availability then they also miss a very great deal.

Yesterday morning we left under lowering skies and rising wind, bound for the ‘petrified forest’ on the opposite side of the island. It’s a long drive, right across the middle, and it’s probably some of the worst, scruffiest, grubbiest bits of the island you may have misfortune to clap eyes on: I suggest just keeping your eyes on the road and anticipate good things to come. Shortly after Kalloni, less than half way across and just as we began to climb into the mountains, the clouds came down and the skies opened. Now I’m a confident driver, but the mountain roads on this island are as tight and difficult as any I’ve seen in any country, with long steep drops and hair-pin bends with dramatically rising inside corners and crumbling edges without armco. That’s fine, but now stir in heavy rain after a dry spell so the road is slippery and visibility down to about 20 feet in places and life gets ‘interesting’. There were quite a few places we were down to 30kph/20mph on the straight sections, simply to ensure that I wouldn’t just drive off the edge. I had eyes like boiled onions when we arrived.

But it’s an ill wind etc.

The first good thing, and it was a very good thing indeed, was the smell. We stopped above a monastery to take a picture shortly after the rain had made up it’s mind, and when we opened the car door the smell that hit us was astonishing. Sandalwood, cedar, pine, oregano, thyme and a whole bunch of things I couldn’t name, all bundled into an incredible sweet-smelling savoury aroma. My first thought was to ask what the monastery was using for incense before I realized it had nothing to do with them and was coming from everywhere around me as dried herbs and plants received the moisture they so needed and gave up their scent. Greece has always been a place that usually smelled GOOD to us, but this was truly amazing. We continued getting lower-level whiffs of this scent throughout the day, and very welcome it was too.

The second good thing was that the temperature dropped. The previous 2 days it had been running at 36’C + from about 12ish until early evening. In the mountains in the rain it went down to 14’C, and by the time we reached the national park with the fossilised wood it was back up to 19’C, with sunshine breaking though the clouds. Now this area is know for being brutally hot and dry, with little shade or vegetation, and we’d been wondering how we’d cope with wandering round, however the lower temperatures made it a pleasant experience, bearing in mind that there was a lot of walking and clambering around. We were very grateful.

In quick summary, if you’re a visitor to Lesvos and want to see it then by all means do – it’s interesting, but it’s little more than the odd (large) lump of fossilised tree trunk dotted around at semi-random across a wide and arid landscape. There’s a rugged beauty to the area, but don’t believe a word about fossilised forests or woodland turned to stone, because it’s not in the least like that. And the fossilised wood itself – in places it’s like flint and in places it looks and feels a little like wood – but you’ve probably found bits of fossilised wood on the beach or digging in your garden, judging by what it looks and feels like. The park is almost treeless, everything being covered with a low thorny shrub in either yellow or sun-bleached grey that close up looks like those molecular models with hexagonal ring structures and odd reactive groups sticking out.

From there we went back into the mountains on roads that were now dry and clear, off to find Petra, Daphne’s house (tucked away in a back street on the edge) and some lunch.

Petra itself evokes mixed feelings. The town itself is attractive, with the key point being a church built on a large rock in the middle, towering above everything else. There are narrow covered lanes behind the front, with tavernas, souvenir shops and all the other facilities you’d normally find in one of the nicer Greek tourist resorts. There are beaches on either side of the town, although the sea was up when we were there, and breaking over the main road. 2 years ago there was a short beach in front of the tavernas, but with completion of the new harbour it appears this may have been washed away. My initial judgement of the place was harsh, and in retrospect it looks quite nice, though from memory the water there is a bit cold compared to Thermi’s sea. The Tavernas also cater for slightly more up-market tastes than those of Thermi, offering more meat dishes with friendlier waiters, commensurately higher prices and the best toilets we’ve ever seen in Greece. It’s not my kind of resort, but would certainly suit some people fine.

After dinner in Petra we headed just a few miles down the coast to Molyvos, which feels rather different. The coast road winds through the hills between, with great views over Molyvos bay and the city.

The old town was built up around the castle, and clings to a steep hillside. Our first stop was right at the top: last time we came the castle was closed, so we made a point of having a look round. It’s certainly not Warwick, but is still interesting for an hour or so. The health and safety people might have kittens there, due to the lack of barriers, but that also means that the views are without obstruction and it feels much more natural.

There is a long agora that runs from the bottom to near the top with restaurants and cafes etc. We were thirsty after our viewing, so drove to the bottom, planning just a short walk up to the nearest café. Thanks to me failing to remember clearly we started on the wrong passage up, and walked literally all the way back up again in sweltering heat. We did find the right path eventually (starting by the sea, rather than by the pre-Roman ruins) and cooled in the same café we’d used 2 years before, enjoying the spectacular views over the bay. The town has many fascinating and sadly crumbling buildings, and should not be missed on a Lesvian holiday.

One night in the hotel there was a film about the fishermen of Molyvos, shot in the 1960s, and at the end it finished with the suggestion that 9 days out of 10 the fisherman’s plate was empty. With the new cafes for tourists everywhere the poor fishermen could no longer afford to while away afternoons when they could not fish, so the municipal organization has established a café to ensure traditional life may continue, presumably in a subsidized fashion.

Beaches in Molyvos seem to consist of fine shingle, and as a resort it seems busier than Petra, justifiably so. There are also quite a lot of pre/Roman ruins about, often in tucked away places.

Between Molyvos and Sykamena there is a small road that runs down the coast, and at Elepheria it becomes a dirt road, though relatively smooth and quick. We drove this way, but from Sykamena, where the start of the road is 1 car wide, and it’s almost unbelievable that this could actually be intended for use. However the previous day we had met a Swiss couple, from Geneve, who told us about it (and with whom we discussed all sorts of things, including the fate of Switzerland and the united nations – conversations in Greece can be like that, and you never know which way they might turn). This road is only for confident drivers, but the views it affords….. It’s certainly a wild ride, but around each bend is a new cove or a fresh view over the sea. Well worth the time and effort to discover and then drive.

And talking of drive, the road up from Thermi heading north is also spectacular. On day 2 we went this way, having only time to glimpse it while returning on day 1. About 10km out from Thermi there is a long flat section with cliffs on one side and a wild rock strewn area of scrubland between the road and the sea on the other.

We pulled off the road here and went for a brief exploration among the thorns and wind-sculpted plants. Although it was pleasantly breezy there when we stopped, the wind must be very fierce at times, because in many places the plants were growing in streamlined cones in the lee of each rock. In other places the hardiest plants had taken root without cover, and almost invariably the leading edge was showing silver-grey stems that had been killed by the salt wind and bleached by the sun. Even the rocks, which are very dense and sharp-edged are worn and sculpted by the wind and water, and have curious patterns of pitting. While walking back to the car we also found what appeared to be a cache of sea shells, bleached white on the outside and with glistening mother of pearl interiors. Presumably that particular rock was the favourite dining place of some find of seabird, because the spot was miles from anywhere, and there appeared no pattern of human logic in the distribution of the shells.

Next stop was the town of Mantamados, which has a chapel in the centre (the church of saint Vasilios – one of many) with the most ornate screen that I think I’ve seen anywhere, Greek orthodox or Roman Catholic.

From there the road becomes increasingly spectacular, and at times reminded us of the drive around the Sorrento headland toward Positano. In places it skirted villages, sometimes with cobbled streets leading up and away into the centre. We tried one briefly, but didn’t want to take so much time from our schedule so left them to give us somewhere fresh to explore next time. Views are – to use that overworked superlative – spectacular, and make up for the ordinariness of the southern end of the island. In places there are terraces, build up to prevent the soil being washed off the steep slopes, permitting olive trees to be grown where nature never intended. In other places the slopes are too steep or too rocky, and nothing can be farmed except a few goats, living off the scrub and yellowed grass.

Occasionally there was a turning, plunging downward from the main road to tiny coastal villages, and we took one of those to Sykamina.

One of the other hotel guests had been staying there the week before at a creative writing course, and when we had mentioned boredom with the tameness of the scenery in the south, expressed surprise that we should find the island ordinary, asking what we considered better.

The road down was steep and sufficiently twisty in places that it felt at times almost like a fairground ride. We got occasional glimpses of a small bay, houses with typical terracotta tiles on their roofs and whitewashed walls clustered together, contrasting against the deep green of the olive trees and the sparkling blue of the sea. After a last twist he road seemed to suddenly place us in the middle of the village, with the harbour and tavernas to our right, sandy beach to our left and another white-painted church built on a rock right in front of us. Of all places that we’ve seen, this one was THE picture-postcard image of desirable Greece. In the harbour, along with fishing boats (and some much more expensive marine hardware) was a ferry of some description, and around the quay side were fishermen preparing their gear (long lines with bated hooks, rather than nets). Outside the tavernas and even by the church were lines with octopus tentacles hung up to dry.

Yes it was a visual cliché, but that didn’t detract one minute from the simple beauty of the place. I don’t know if we’ll ever actually dare to return in case it’s less perfect, but if you ever visit Lesvos then it’s the one place that you should not miss.



I’ve finished this off in Mytilini airport and on the plane. Leaving last time was a sweaty hell, with the airport jammed solid, all UK flights operating on the same day. This time departure has been almost completely painless, to an astonishing degree. We were given a (free) lift to the airport by friends of the hotel owners, and although there was a queue it moved at a reasonable rate. Because we were a little early there was time to have a drink and some lunch, and also (presumably) because we were early we got better seats near the front of the plane with great leg room (on the way out we were like sardines). The flight left dead on time and even the guy next to me was friendly, offering a sweet as the pressure changed on take off and his unwanted milk and sugar.

Now we’re home safely. Flying from Manchester meant that we could afford to park within easy walking distance of the terminal, so although we had 2hr 20min drive, it took no longer than Gatwick because we didn’t need to shuttle off to somewhere miles from the airport.

Taster pics up if I can find the energy.