We are seeing a part of Greece that I'm glad most tourists overlook--Zagoria, a region in the Pindus Mountains of northwest Greece. Having left the arid areas of the south, we are now surrounded by forested hills and tiny villages filled with stone houses with slate roofs and brightly painted doors. My first impression of Tsepelovo was the sound of buzzing bees, bees that live in all the crevices between the stones of the roads, the walls, and the houses. It's no wonder that the local honey is so delicious.
We moved on to visit Vradeto, Kipi, and Vitsa, homes to 30, 16, or even just 6, inhabitants. Each town's square is shaded by a huge plane tree, and the streets are cobbled stone. Picturesque enough to be downright charming. Our guides, Kostas and Nikos, grew up in this region and seem to know everyone. They have expertly arranged for us to dine on all the Greek specialties. Best of all is the total absence of other tourists. We are seeing a real slice of authentic Greek life--friendly innkeepers and taverna owners, workmen repairing slate roofs, an old man intricately carving a wooden spool to spin wool into yarn, kids playing soccer in the town square, small groups of townspeople passing time at the local cafe.
And the food... Ah, the delicious food--freshly baked bread with a chewy crust; soft, creamy homemade feta (70% sheep's milk, 30% goat's milk) drizzled with olive oil and oregano; rich red tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and olives over shredded dark green lettuce; stifado, pastitsio; veal; chicken souvlaki; and the omnipresent heaping plate of fries cooked in olive oil. In fact, rarely is there a meal served without potatoes. Kostas is making sure that we slowly but surely make our way through the most important Greek dishes.
The trails we hike meander up and down hills, sometimes in the woods, other times on ancient stone steps, and occasionally through semi-dense brush. We pass more tortoises than hikers; the trails are almost completely devoid of other tourists. We listen to birds, examine wolf and bear droppings, peer down into the deepest gorge in the world (Vikos), admire fields of wildflowers, and listen to accounts of how all the stone bridges were built back in the early to mid-eighteenth century. The 80- to 85-degree weather is about 10 degrees warmer than is typical this time of year. Fortunately, the breeze picks up midday, helping to cool us and keep the flies at bay. The terrain is never steep enough to be too daunting, but we walk many miles each day and are ready to eat heavily laden plates of local food without guilt every night.
Tomorrow we head to the depths of the Vikos Gorge.
We moved on to visit Vradeto, Kipi, and Vitsa, homes to 30, 16, or even just 6, inhabitants. Each town's square is shaded by a huge plane tree, and the streets are cobbled stone. Picturesque enough to be downright charming. Our guides, Kostas and Nikos, grew up in this region and seem to know everyone. They have expertly arranged for us to dine on all the Greek specialties. Best of all is the total absence of other tourists. We are seeing a real slice of authentic Greek life--friendly innkeepers and taverna owners, workmen repairing slate roofs, an old man intricately carving a wooden spool to spin wool into yarn, kids playing soccer in the town square, small groups of townspeople passing time at the local cafe.
And the food... Ah, the delicious food--freshly baked bread with a chewy crust; soft, creamy homemade feta (70% sheep's milk, 30% goat's milk) drizzled with olive oil and oregano; rich red tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and olives over shredded dark green lettuce; stifado, pastitsio; veal; chicken souvlaki; and the omnipresent heaping plate of fries cooked in olive oil. In fact, rarely is there a meal served without potatoes. Kostas is making sure that we slowly but surely make our way through the most important Greek dishes.
The trails we hike meander up and down hills, sometimes in the woods, other times on ancient stone steps, and occasionally through semi-dense brush. We pass more tortoises than hikers; the trails are almost completely devoid of other tourists. We listen to birds, examine wolf and bear droppings, peer down into the deepest gorge in the world (Vikos), admire fields of wildflowers, and listen to accounts of how all the stone bridges were built back in the early to mid-eighteenth century. The 80- to 85-degree weather is about 10 degrees warmer than is typical this time of year. Fortunately, the breeze picks up midday, helping to cool us and keep the flies at bay. The terrain is never steep enough to be too daunting, but we walk many miles each day and are ready to eat heavily laden plates of local food without guilt every night.
Tomorrow we head to the depths of the Vikos Gorge.
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