Day 14 – Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Backtracking a couple of dozen meters, I had a wonderful view of the sun rising above the valley I had ascended from and cycled on.

You can see my tent next to the church - the second time I crashed next to a House of God

I managed to capture the very moment of the sunrise

The river I had ascended from...

...on that winding road with switchbacks

A village below me

The road was still ascending, as my host told me, for another 8 kilometers – not a short distance if you are riding uphill. In this remote area, there were entire herds of cattle (remember, no cows at Meteora – there were quite a few here) on the road – which was unsettling, as their calves were also to be seen and their mothers can be very protective. I hence waited for a car to get some cover. I stopped the driver, who told me “they will probably not attack you.” Yes, thanks, I was counting on that too, but better to be cautious than get scared. Anyway, I was not attacked.

I was just as unsure about their intention...

...as they were unsure of mine...

At long last, I reached the summit, where there was a smaller wind park, and I was looking forward to a nice, very long descent. A descent there was, but by far not as long as I expected. I reached a small village called Argithea below. I was rather frustrated seeing a truck that had overtaken me struggling up the hill, on a steep, steep road. Darn. I needed some energy, so I stopped at a small tavern on the side of the road and ordered an omelette.

The food took forever to arrive, maybe they made me wait for the chicken to hatch the eggs. When it finally came, it was quite tasty. Alas, the strong incline did not get smaller during breakfast – so there was nothing further to do but ride on. After a wide switchback, I was once again creeping upwards – until a nice, long drop. On Google Maps, I noticed an ancient stone bridge near the “modern” (it was anything but) one crossing the road. It was a nice spot to go in for a swim there, I was just hoping no rocks would fall on my head.

I took a dip at the foot of this bridge

I tried to ignore the extremely steep patch of road following the bridge – a truck driver even offered to haul me up the road. I thanked him; I am a "purist." I prefer my trips to be made by my two feet, either cycling or hauling my bike – the only exceptions are waterways, as I am not (yet?) a water-bike rider.

Oh my, this ascent was excruciating, the third of the day. The road on a small patch was outright horrible, it reminded me of the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Vietnam, where concrete slabs were laid down and "bon appétit."

This was after the crazy climb. If you zoom in, you can see the ancient stone bridge and the "modern" bridge

Somehow, I made it through the worst, then came a series of tunnels. I was yet again back to civilization, there were more and more villages. Well, not so fast – I was still very much in the midst of mountains.

Still not much more to see than mountains on top of mountains

I was now riding next to a river and there was a very, very steep climb to a small town with shops and even a hotel. Before reaching the center of this small town, I saw a lady in the garden of her house and asked her for some water. She gave me two bottles, frozen to ice! Efaristo – it would later turn out to be a great refreshment.

To my big surprise, after this town was a brand-new road riding flat next to the river. Due to the difficult terrain, I had not done a lot of distance and thought – incorrectly – this road would continue for the next dozens of miles. I saw a yellow road-work truck and that was the end of the pleasant surface. Worse, till then the road descended and of course the blacktop had to finish just when an incline started.

A car came, I stopped it, and a young lady in her twenties in the back spoke good English. She told me the top was missing (no, alas, not her top) only for “10 minutes.” I asked: 10 minutes by car or by bike? She said it was the former. Figures. I struggled for quite a while – and the situation did not improve much either when the asphalt was back, it was quite a climb.

The river below

For quite a while, there was no blacktop

This region, as I am learning while writing this story, is called "Agrafa,” the Greek word for "unwritten," a reference to the region's remoteness and difficult terrain. As a result, the Ottomans were never able to successfully control the region. Agrafa maintained a form of self-governance and semi-independence, which included having its own militias and dispute arbitration systems. These privileges were recognized by the Ottomans in a treaty in 1525.

The fiercely independent spirit of its people, known as Agrafiotes, is matched by a harsh and forbidding landscape. The central Agrafiotis River valley is surrounded on three sides by steep 2,000-metre walls of mountains, and on its south side the river drains via a series of narrow and often impassable gorges into the man-made Lake Kremasta (more about this later).

Quite a harsh landscape, indeed

I reached a village called Vrouviana. It had a playground and a church on the side of the road I was traveling on. About a dozen kids were playing under the watchful eyes of their parents. Ha, an even surface! I asked if I could pitch my tent there once the kids were gone, they said yes. One of them asked why I would not drop down to the river, an impressive stone bridge there and I could camp there. I liked the idea of a descent, but thought about having to ride up the following day – ah, let us just go for it, I thought. There was a tavern in the village next to a stone church, full of people, both old and young. They looked at me a bit puzzled. Anyhow, I dropped to the river, it was a 4 km descent and it was getting dark quickly.

A nice church in the small village (the second one)

There was a car parked near the bridge and I asked if they spoke English. It was two young girls and one did speak perfect English. She told me the best places to pitch a tent and where to go in for a swim. She even told me they were sisters and the younger one was bleeding her heart out due to some love affair, something they did not want to do at home. She told me she would invite me for a coffee the following day in the tavern, I should be there at 11 am. 11 am, I thought, I planned to be on the other side of the world (incorrectly). She also told me she was a sommelier working in Athens and that she was looking for a job.

Welcome back, thorns, there was an abundance of these next to the river, too. In the semi-darkness, I managed to find a place with somewhat fewer of these, not far from the banks of the river, put up my tent there, and retired for the night.

Just 75 kilometers on this Tuesday, but about 2,100 meters of climbing.