We’ve moved on from the apartment where we’d been staying for over a month. As lovely as it was, we were starting to grow roots and besides, they had new guests coming in. With only a few days before check-out, we found a charming little villa owned by an incredibly warm and welcoming family. It’s a bit further back from the sea, but even quieter and still only a 5–10 minute walk to our regular swim spot, where the “morning crew” of older locals, just a little bit older than us hang out. Hah—we love it!
We had our first visitor for tea: Demetra, one of the morning regulars and our self-appointed Greek teacher. I don’t think either of us will ever be fluent, but it won’t be for lack of trying!
Wherever we go, I always try to get a local take on life. I gave up long ago on the filtered narratives pushed by mainstream media. Rachel and I first started coming to Greece in the early 1980s, back when the Drachma was still in use and the country leaned more towards communism. Even then, we found the people to be genuinely welcoming. Things have changed here, as they have everywhere, but to me, the warmth and authenticity of the people remain unchanged.
We’d left the weekend open, unsure whether we’d have a car. But on Friday morning, Giannis messaged me with confirmation, and amazingly, I managed to book what turned out to be the last available apartment inside the castle. With a couple of overnight bags packed, we set off just before midday for Monemvasia.
There were a couple of route options, but we chose the longer part-coastal, part-mountainous one. We’d been told how beautiful the coastline of the western Peloponnese is, with its swathes of white beaches carved into cliff walls, set against dramatic mountain backdrops and it didn’t disappoint. It was absolutely stunning and well worth the extra journey time.
The climb over the mountains was a bit arduous in our tired but dependable little car, but still a pleasure, thanks to the bursts of colorful flora and wild terrain along the way. I’ve said it before: half the joy of these adventures is the journey itself. And as a fellow traveler once said to us, the harder a place is to get to, the more it’s worth seeing and experiencing.
Back on the coast, some three and a half hours after setting off, we rounded a bend and were met with our first glimpse of Monemvasia, a spectacular fortress town carved into the backside of a rock, invisible from the mainland. At first, it just looked like a big rock out at sea, accessible only via a narrow causeway.
Once across, we had to wait for a parking spot to open up along the roadside leading to the castle gates. No vehicles are allowed inside the old town, and even if they were, the narrow, cobbled streets wouldn’t permit it. It’s essentially a medieval city, founded by the Byzantines in the 6th century, with stunning architecture that seems to grow organically out of the rock.
After meeting our host George, a fountain of knowledge and great recommendations, we headed to one of his suggested tavernas for an early dinner: delicious food with panoramic views over the tail end of the Peloponnese.
As the sun slipped behind the mountains, we made the climb to the fortress above the town, passing a tiny place of worship carved into the mountainside before reaching the summit to take in the views. Wandering around this once-impregnable stronghold eventually brought down by siege, was both humbling and awe-inspiring.
The next morning, we were up early for a swim in the crystal-clear waters that lap the base of the castle, another unforgettable experience. After a hearty brunch and one last stroll through the old town, we made our way back to Xiropigado, with a quick detour to Nafplio to revisit our favourite restaurant. It didn’t disappoint….again.
Dream Chasers 