So far the routine of 30 (ish) mile days ,hugging the coast down to the next little fishing village was working well, so why change it now?

South I went,leaving Palairos behind and enjoying the rolling terrain as I once again marvelled at the sea on my right . I was making the most of these coastal days as before long I’d be turning left and heading inland towards Athens.

Apart from a nervous episode where I saw three big black dogs in the middle of the road up ahead, before realising they were in fact goats, the day was uneventful.

I passed a weird kind of yard with eccentric figures and sculptures every few yards-a sort of cross between Heath Robinson, Salvador Dali and Stig of the Dump-I cut my photo stop short when I noticed several goat skins drying in the sun on the barbed wire fence but it was an unusual set up for sure .

I dropped down down into Astakos at the sleepiest time of day . Boats bobbed languidly in the harbour, a lingering lunch party were chatting quietly at the only restaurant that was still open, the faint buzz of a moped cut through the hot, still air. A dog barked half heartedly. Piccadilly Circus it was not.

I sat and watched as a Norwegian couple parked (berthed?) their yacht, stern first into the harbour. This seemingly simple operation brought the quayside to life ,with much animated shouting, gesturing, throwing of ropes and general hubbub involved in guiding the couple in, in a manoeuvre they could clearly do with their eyes closed

This was a contented day of cycling and seeing, seeing and cycling and I enjoyed it a lot, mainly for it’s simplicity .

Tonight’s accommodation was the four star Giannis Village Resort, but at two star out of season prices, the only downside being that it was “up there”, a massive climb out of the village . It was so high up that the holiday bungalows had no air conditioning, relying instead on cool mountain air. Suited me fine.