The journey back from now
From
Githio it is nearly obligatin to bike a round through Mani, this historical peninsula,
where the humans built no houses, but dwelling towers (Pygri), till 25 m high
and with 1,50 m walls.
We take the tip from Peter to drive a.m. the eastcoast to the south and p.m the
westcoast to north. It is warmer, but the light is much better.
We bike from Githio to Areopoli. After town we go again to the left, to reach
the eastcoast.
Soon we see the
first towers, not very inviting in the landscape. They are not from nobility,
but from farmers and craftsmans, they built influential clans. Every clan defended
his own till the last consequences. Round the Pygros are little buildings and
finally a wall around all of them.
Most
of the towers were built in 18. and 19. Jhdt. (less in 15. and 16. Jhdt.) in the
south of Taygeton. In Mani there were the place of the expellees and because of
the hidden bays a good place for the pirates. These traded with the people from
Mani. At the end of 19. Century there was clublaw.
Mani was never prejudiced from Turky because of their towers and the human were
good supplier. Sometimes you can see the terassic land.
As the new political
states in europe were built, it was the end of traditional Mani. The Pygris were
not needed any more. There was nothing to defend. They were left by their inhabitatns
and dilapidated.
But the mentality of the Many-people in our days is nearly the same like in earlyer
days.
In
Flomochori we don't follow the mainstreet. We place our motobikes on the village
square, pull out our leather jackets and helmets and take place in one of the
both tavernes. In other towns we always cause a flurry of excitement with our
streetbikes unusual for Greek, the inhabitants of Flomochori behave as if we were
not existing.
We are served friendly, but no one wants to know where we are from or how much
ccm our bikes have.
"Leave me alone - i leave you alone", was the philosophy of life of
these people, still valid in our days.
No
wonder, that the arrival of the marketeer-errant is much more interesting. From
near and far women come per pedes or by car to shop, whereas the old men are sitting
in the tavernas and observe hustle and bustle on the place.
Just finished our coffee, we get moving. We wave to them - they wave back descreetly.
The Route along the east-coast leads us on narrow curves (please honk!) cross-town
of the towers. People here don't seem to be interested in traffic control. Road
signs are seldom. And if you find one, it is age-old.
Some of the towns
are ghost citys. Deserted from their inhabitants, they dilapidate slowly. Other
towers are renovated lovingly and used as a hotel. Some of the towers are buided
new in historical style. Some time tourist traffic should enter the cities. But
we are under the strong impression that it will take a long time.
Somewhere
on a hill we have to stop. A herd of cattle, big black boring looking animals
with their calfs, block our way. We honk. No effect. They don't even look in our
direction. They don't move in this sweltering heat. As we start to sweat like
a pig, we decide to drive slowly through the herd. Tjaky is sucdessful. Rudis
Pan European is red. But it seems the beefs of the Mani have never heared that
beefs attack red things. Also Rudi can pass by.
Reaching
the west side of the Mani, we drive south nearly to Porto Kagio. Some km before
this town, we decide to turn back. The sprit in the tank of Deauville is nearing
its end and, according to our map, we have some km to go to the next petrol station.
In the little town where we turn back, we want to make a little rest. But we don't
see a taverna. Rudi ask a man. "No english", he answers roughly. We
are on the Mani.
So we satisfy our thirst with isotonic drinks from our bars in the bikes and fit
a business card of "Bikerwelt" on a lamppost. If you find it, it is
your's!
The
street along the west-coast of the Mani is not so demanding to drive like the
street on the east-coast. Soon, we discover a new builded petrol station. It is
unlisted in our map. It is so new, that you can buy petrol, but you can't use
a toilet.
Later, at the turning to Pygros Dirou (to the beautiful dripstone caves) we discover
a taverna with a good parking place. Vassili, a friendly greek men, is waiting
for a customer and invites us to sit down on his table. His english is very good.
He tolds us about old Sparta and the children, who had to start their hard education
with 6 years. The had to sleep on the hard floor and had to eat blood-soup.
We
talk about building a house in Greek and about the time Vassili was a musician
and travelling through the countries with his guitar and his mouth-organ.
His customer is arrived in the meantime and is waiting patiently on the table
beside us. We notice: Anywhere here Mani is ending - we are back in present day.
Recovered we start the way back to Githio, enriched with some regional and human
impressions.
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Our Greece and Thailand Journeys: 1999
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