The final finger of the Peloponnese

We spent almost a week in Stoupa and it's still our favourite seaside place. If I were Dutch or German I might think differently as it is a 'British' resort, mainly on account of the easy access to the airport at Kalamata and the two Thomas Cook flights each week arriving from Manchester and Gatwick. So that's two hundred or so Brits coming in on Sunday afternoons. Fortunately for the few Dutch and German visitors,  two hundred or so Brits also leave for the airport each Sunday morning. I've been one of those Brits several times in the past and probably will be again next year.

What makes Stoupa so special is its setting, small size and the crystal clear water of the bay, fed with cold fresh water to liven-up a swim.

This is the view down the coast towards Stoupa ( which is actually hidden, but in the middle distance). It's the view that the Thomas Cook visitors see during their coach transfer on a spectacular mountain drive from Kalamata. The town down there there that is visible, is Kardamili, itself a very pretty, much smaller place that really is squeezed between mountains and sea. It was near here that Sir Patrick Leigh Fermor, that most famous of travel writers, decided to build a house. I had cause to re-read his obituary last week; it's a remarkable story, whether you enjoy the pre-war, wartime or post-war exploits, it's a life that ticks all my boxes.

Stoupa has a number of tavernas and a couple of bars, but it's quiet and calm day and night.

We spent a few hours each day on the sun beds in front of Patrico's, temped by the iced coffee and wifi and had a a few late lunches at the restaurant at the southern end of the bay. One evening we ate there for dinner but our meal a-deux was somewhat disturbed by a one way conversation that was impossible to miss, led by an Enghlishh lady who had almost finished her wine and was explaining to another table, about an earthquake that "measured 7.9 on the Ricshhter Scale" and had recently "hit Athens, or was it central Greece or maybe it was Caphalonia".

I'm not sure if she's aware of what 7.9 would do to an area but I'm sure that the earth didn't move for me down in Stoupa.

So it was a wrench to have to leave and it would have been easy to see out the rest of our time on the Mani and in Stoupa. However we moved on, following the coast northern, then a little west before heading southto the final finger and to Koroni, at the south eastern end.  It's only from here, looking back across the bay to the Mani, that you can appreciate the vast scale of the Taygetos Mountains over there. As in the Alps, when you are beneath the slopes it's not possible to get an appreciation of a mountain's scale. So it is from here that the majesty of the Taygetos is on show. It's the first time that we have seen the three peaks that actually form the highest points. A photo ( from our camera at least) doesn't do it justice, but what a fantastic view the people of Koroni must have through the clear days of winter of those snow covered mountains.

This western finger is described as the market garden of the Peloponnese, and yet for some reason, we didn't stop at any of the roadside stalls that were selling oranges by the sack load. Perhaps is was because we were overdosing on cherries that were bought from an Alabanian lady off a pickup truck in Stoupa. She may not be Alabanian, but for some reason I've been brought up to believe that anyone selling fruit off a pickup in Greece is Albanian!

We were overdosing because, like the fish and chip shop in Bradwell, she doesn't do half measures. She refused to sell me a hall kilo and forced me to handover €2 for the biggest two handfuls ( that's four hands in total), that I have ever seen. That's a lot of cherries (and a very low price).

So we were now in Koroni and this is a real gem of a town. It feels very Greek, with people doing their own thing amongst narrow streets, clinging to the cliff that rises up to an old castle on the very big headland.

On the northern side there's a harbour, with plenty of small fishing boats and some authentic looking fisherman-work going on alongside.

On the southern side is another one of 'those views'. It's all too easy to let these just pass by, but in 

later times of rain, wind and cold weather, I'd like to remember them.

There's a strong Venetian influence remaining in many buildings and yet as with the Mani, the region was amidst countless struggles between warring factions through the ages and its tranquility now is something that has only developed since the end of the Greek war of independence.

When I'm in Koroni, I always vist Dimitri, my barber. He has a funky barber's shop sign outside.

He gives me a special deal on account of my special hair. Here he is, always ready to pose for another photo - that's not me in the chair by the way, I don't have chubby cheeks.

He's not got much English, but he does know the word Manchester. It's the first overseas trip I think I've made where David Beckham hasn't been mentioned. That was a common currency in China. Well every dog has its day.

After explaining to Dimitri where we come from ( he was interested to know), I asked him if he had ever visited England.  I received a quick lesson about Koroni, which was something like " I have everything I need here. It's a beautiful place, all my friends are here. Why should I go anywhere else?" It turns out that Kalamata is a major trip for him.

Actually this is a recurring theme in the Greece we have visited so far. Everyone appreciates what they have, where they live and they remind us that "life is simple here". It's not obvious that the Greece financial system is in meltdown, with about €320Bn of debt piled up. Of course I paid in cash for my €10 haircut but there are many times when we have been refused 'plastic'. Initially it seemed that 'there's a problem with the machine', but recently vendors have just said "no". We're keeping an eye on the quantity of Euros we are carrying for security reasons, so although the press are reporting a run on the banks, at the moment we are not planning to follow suit.

There are very few tourists in Koroni; the visitors seem to be Greek and I suspect that they are from Kalamata, the only large town in the wider area. It's about 80km from here if I'm guessing correctly. On Friday night it livened up with a fair few people in the harbour-side tavernas. We too were seduced by the setting and the entreaties of a taverna 'doorman'?! and we sat down and ate beautiful fresh cod for dinner.

The romantic setting, watching the sunlight slowly fade on the distant Taygetos (and with my best girl by my side), was eventually broken by a small fishing boat returning from a hard evening out in the bay. At the helm was a very rotund Greek guy who was still shirtless and playing the LOUDEST music as he came into harbour. This continued as he proceeded to make a short detour along the quayside, in front of the restaurants, before tying up in the middle of the harbour and spending a considerable time preparing to get into a small tender in which to get to the quay.

It was an amusing show; just one of those little events that I would have already forgotten about if it weren't for the fact that I've recalled it now as I write this and it's saved for ever in the iCloud (not too sure about that last bit).

The campsite has been run by the same couple for almost thirty years and it's very convenient for town - a short walk down to the beach and then a few hundred metres to the town. There's a bar and a small pool that is three metres deep - it's quite a shock for a play pool to be quite so deep.  We took advantage of a huge washing machine and great drying weather, to empty the huge washing bag that had expanded to fill the place behind Dawn's seat in the Landy.

On Sunday morning we decided to continue west along the coast and then north up the western side. We had read about a nice beach, Tsapi, apparently accessed by a dirt road but on inspecting the map that access point was some distance away so we took our own route, following our own dirt road, assisted by TomTom and our paper map. This turned out to be the hardest bit of off-roading so far!

We left the tarmac and hit the dirt right at sea level, immediately rising high into scrub. The further we went, the narrower the road became. At one point we passed a pickup where the guy was filling barrels with water. He and his wife just stood and stared as we drove by trying to look normal, pretending that we really were just out for a Sunday morning cruise.

At the top of yet another hill, in the middle of mile of scrub and ancient olive trees, we saw a wooden sign for Tsapi - 4km so confidently engaged lo-ratio and decended a very steep track, by now the trees were scraping the sides of the Landy. The immediate environment was like being in Africa or somewhere and TomTom didn't help as although it shows most of the tracks, when you zoom out to see them in context, they just disappear and the screen goes white. We had a few necessary reverses out of the wrong track, but eventually we did find the beach dirt road, which has now become tarmac!

That was enough off roading for a few days and we rewarded ourselves with a big swim and an iced coffee at a beautiful taverna on the beach.

Later, at Finikoúnda beach where we had our usual picnic lunch, an English guy drove up to talk Land Rovers. He has a Series II at his house up the hill and asked for some advice about tyres which I duly gave and he was very grateful. He's an economics lecturer and is about to go to do a few days work in Kosovo. He highly recommends a visit there saying that it's not dangerous and the only trouble occurs between different groups; not with visitors. In fact there are still European and American military there, manning various positions and watching over the 'tribes'. So we will see...