Tuesday, April 23, 2002 16:38
Weather: Sunny, high scattered cloud, 21c.
Location: Bench by the Finikoundas beach

Well, I got very skeptical about Rick Steves when every other tourist in Cinque Terre seemed to be carrying his Italy guide, but he's certainly come up aces with Finikoundas. 'Course it helps that I've somehow seriously beaten the other tourists to the Peloponnese entirely. There were a number on the ferry from Italy, but they all headed off towards Athens, leaving me the only obvious non-Greek on the train south. There might have been a few in Kalamata, but I only saw them at the bus station, and the ones on the bus were German and got off a Pylos. So here I am in Finikoundas, a tourist town with no tourists! And a great beach all to myself!

I spent the night last night in a hotel near the train station, recommended by George. It was right in the heart of the downtown area, a curious few blocks of stylist cafes and clothing stores, with a couple of expensive hotels thrown in. (Mine was cheap, though!) I set off to try and get some dinner, but didn't pass any authentic-looking restaurants that were still open. I did make it all the way up to the market and the bus station, but they were both apparently closed or closing. Since dinner was an increasing priority, I gave in and went into a fast food sandwich place, which served a passable version of a club sandwich.

Back at the hotel, I did a day's laundry and got changed for bed. The room had a TV set, but the only thing on I could understand was a truly awful American gung-ho special forces movie, which I watched anyway.

This morning I got up, had a capuccino and a ham & cheese sandwich in a cafe nearby, and walked back up to the bus station. I arrived around 10--it seemed I'd been in the wrong place the night before, following a terrible little map I'd got from the hotel--and got a ticket for the 1pm bus to Finikoundas. That gave me a couple of hours to try and get up to the castle (though the entrance was barred due to renovations, I still got a great view from the little outdoor amphitheatre below) and down to the port. I passed a number of newspaper stands, but had no luck finding a paper in English. (No real surprise--they could hardly bring them in in time by bus or train, and they would sell such low volumes that a local print run wouldn't make sense.)

Back at the hotel, I made a quick washroom stop (I've learned to treasure free washrooms!), hoisted my pack, and headed off for the bus station.

Waiting for the bus I got into a curiously one-sided conversation with the little man sitting next to me, who heard me speak one or two words of Greek and then launched into a full unintelligible flow. I tried to indicate my incomprehension, but he was having none of it, and seemed quite happy to assume my responses and continue when I failed to contribute my half of the dialogue. I have no idea what he was on about, but he was smiling so I smiled back.

At a quarter to one, a series of buses pulled through the station. A group of six or seven would enter, wait five or ten minutes, and pull off. None of them seemed to say Finikoundas (and I should point out that my ability to read Greek characters has unaccountably lept ahead of my vocabulary, still stuck on about word #4) but at five to one I asked the ticket agent and he pointed out the right bus to me. (Its primary destination--Pylos--was the one marked on the front.)

I had an enjoyable 2 1/2 hour trip, winding through the hills and dropping at length into Pylos, Methoni, and at last Finikoundas. I had no trouble finding a dhomatia--privately rented room--and I dumped my stuff, changed, and went for my first swim. The water was cold, but with the hot sun it was still great!

I could stay here in the sun forever, but I think it's about time for more sunscreen. Andio!
posted by Tom at 5:00 PM | link |