Dragging ourselves away from stunning Hydra wasn’t easy. We waited on the cobble-stoned port for the 7.20am ferry to Piraeus with a soft early-morning light over the water, the smell of bread wafting from the nearby bakeries and the sound of a donkey braying. It was a smooth two-hour crossing on a calm blue sea but after five days on Hydra, the blaring noise and belching fumes of traffic – cars, buses, lorries, taxis – as we walked up the streets in Piraeus to collect the Guzzler, was absolutely alarming. It was 21 degrees as we skirted around Athens heading north on our way to Delphi to see if the famed oracle had anything to prophecy. Soon we were in hills, burnt and blackened, dotted with the husks of houses from last August summer fires. It was shocking to see the extent of the damage, especially the shells of houses – people’s homes – and the proximity of the fire to huge sprawling Athens. As we climbed, the temperature dropped to 13 degrees and there was a thick fog lingering over the hills, like smoke (just shows you the power of suggestion). As we neared Delphi, we passed through Arahova, looking like a picture-postcard Alpine village with its ski- hire shops and chalets – yes, amazingly you can ski in Greece although no snow yet.

We were late. The archaeological ruins at Delphi closed at 3.30 and it was now after half past two. But the ticket office was empty. One of the four attendants standing around warned us that we didn’t have much time, but they couldn’t sell us a ticket and wouldn’t let us in without one. A queue built up behind us and eventually the ticket seller came back, wafting smoke. The Sanctuary at Delphi was once regarded as the centre of the world and a sacred place where humans could interact directly with the gods. The mighty flocked here seeking guidance although the sayings of the oracle were notoriously ambiguous. But the souvenir shops in Delphi sold T-shirts with old Delphic maxims that were found inscribed in the pillars of the temple of Apollo – Know Thyself and Nothing in excess– still relevant rules for life all the way from 2500 years ago. Wandering along the Sacred Path that wound around the ruins, a wonderfully atmospheric and majestic place set amid high mountains with the sea in the distance shrouded in mist, we waited for the oracle to speak to us. But all we heard was the chattering of the American tour group and the giggles of two Chinese women…but if we listened really intently, the breeze in the cypress trees seemed to whisper ‘life is good’ (I swear, hand on heart!).

The Delphi museum was interesting with great tales of wrath and vengeance of the gods. The faces of the ancient statues in the museum were very human_ whether mortal or god_ and also seemed to send a message that life is fleeting and everything passes.

The following morning – bright, clear and cold – we hiked in the mountains above the sanctuary with black choughs gliding overhead us, wheeling and turning in the cold air, the sacred ruins spread below us and the largest olive grove in Greece spread far below that stretching the thirteen kilometres to the sea. And it was easy to understand why this was such a special place for both gods and humans.

We had never heard of Meteora in Central Greece until a Swiss couple told us that it was their favorite place in all of Greece and so we put it on our list….so glad we did. The name Meteora means ‘suspended in the air’ and that’s such an apt description. The landscape of strange rock formations was very Lord of the Rings but then there were the monasteries that looked like they were glued to the tops of these bare pinnacles. We stayed in a gorgeous apartment with a rooftop terrace and a view that we never got tried of in three days – changing light and shade was mesmerizing and made many ghoulish faces in the rocks.

But why would anyone live up there on rock? The quest for solitude sent hermit monks up there more than a thousand years ago – the same urge that inhabited Skellig Michael or sent hermits into the caves in the Tigray region of Ethiopia. And then there was the fear of persecution as the Turks invaded and remote areas were an escape from the bloodshed. Only six monasteries were still active and inhabited now – two with nuns and four with monks (although all were called monasteries). Interestingly, there were far more women – 38 nuns and 9 men.

We trekked from our apartment in Kalambaku up the rocks by a winding path and walked from monastery to monastery – a 7 hour roundabout hike ( lengthened by a ‘shortcut’ that was anything but and which involved a precarious scramble down a steep gully) but it was worth it…..the buildings were even more spectacular up close. We were the first visitors to arrive at the Monastery of the Holy Trinity, so early that the thick wooden doors were still locked. This monastery featured in the James Bond movie For Your Eyes Only ( its on you tube, Meteora, James Bond). Inside the door, up more steps that wound around the barren rock, we found a large courtyard and a cheery monk sweeping the autumn leaves away, a herb garden and flower beds and a large hook dangling over a precipice that was used to haul up monks and supplies in a large net before steps were carved into the rock. And in all of the monasteries, there were small churches, stained glass windows, the smell of candle wax and incense, terracotta tiles, polished stone walls rubbed smooth over years, creaking timber floorboards and above all, simplicity. The nuns in both their places were also doing a thriving business selling honey, jams, healing beeswax balms and of course icon replicas and there was a three euros entrance fee for each monastery. I must confess that I was in need of a generous dollop of the nun’s healing balm by the time we got back to our apartment plus an even more generous drop of reviving white wine!!!.

But our stay in Greece is running out and its time to go towards the Albanian border and in the general direction of home – we have decided to go through Albania, Montenegro, Croatia…if we can. So we packed up again and left the stunning Meteora region heading north. En-route, we booked a bed in a little village a few kms from Ioannina, a gorgeous city on Lake Pamvotida popular as a long weekend getaway from Athens and famed for its sunsets when the lake waters turn silver and the mountain backdrop turns lilac….we didn’t see any of of that. When we eventually got a parking spot…it was Sunday when all the Greeks dress up in smart casual gear, go for a little stroll and have a long lunch, the mountains clouded over and big fat raindrops had us running for the car. The rain didn’t last and the trees along the lake were truly beautiful….who knew that autumn in Greece could be so like home with the crunch of leaves?

Back at the accommodation, there were great bad clouds of a different sort billowing from the house next door and a very concerned woman running up the street, shouting. But a man stuck his head out a smoky window and said that he was only trying to light a fire….. and everyone laughed. Panic over. Another man on the street noticed the number-plate on the Guzzler and came over to chat …he was Albanian, very friendly – which may be a good omen for our next stretch of the journey. We hope to cross the border from Greece into Albania in the next day or so.

Hopefully the next post will be from Albania, a country that we know practically nothing about but that should soon change.