I set out at dawn, to have time to catch up with the taefades ( groups of workers for the olives' harvest ) at the moment they fill up the olive groves, with the long wooden poles and the baskets inside their hands, and the women wearing colorful kerchiefs on their heads…Walking beside the coasts of Geras Gulf overwhelmed with olive trees, living behind me Pyrgi, Kedro and Therma with the Turkish baths, the stone-built olive-presses, the storages, silent evidence of the past's welfare.

    Afterwards the villages : Dipi, Pigadakia, Kato Tritos, Mychou, Paleokipos, Plakados, Perama with the small port, Papados, Messagros, Skopelos. I start going downhill towards south : the coastal area of Tarti, the villages Trygonas, Plagia perched on the green hills, and back beside the sea : Ayios St-efanos beach with final end to the small town of Plomari… There I am going to have a rest to the cafes of the shipyard, drinking slowly ouzo, while looking far way the fishing-boats …I lose myself as I wander inside the cobbled streets with the stone-built houses, the well-painted with intense colors, and decorated with pots full of basil and other plants…

    Upwards the villages of Megalochori, Paleochori and westwards the beach of Melinda, Akrasi and Drota villages, the beach of Panayia Kryfti, Ambeliko, Kato Stavros and finally Vatera beside the Aegean, surrounded by an endless sandy beach and greenish crystal clear sea water…

    I go on northwards : Vrissa village with the therapeutic - the holly water blessed from the depths of the earth- the greenhouses, Polichnitos, the small town with the palm-trees, the coastal area of Skala Polichnitou, Nyphida beach, Lisvori, Skamoudi, Vassilika village, the Monastery of Damandriou and Achladeri site surrounded by ruins of the ancient town Pyra, green colors and sea…

    From this point the road goes uphill living its traces on Olympus mountain, the ancient mountain, weighed down from gold-reddish gigantic plane-, chest nut- oak- trees, springs and streams, with epicenter the small town of Ayia Sion, Ayiassos… There I light a candle at the church of Panayia Vrefokratoussa ( Virgin Mary holding the Holly Infant ) and from there I have a rest at the traditional cafes with the vine arbors and at the cobbled streets, to enjoy the notes of the dulcimers and violins and to have time to watch the artist - ceramist, old-Nicholas firing clay in his stone-built kiln and then back to the cobbled streets admiring the ladies with the reddish cheeks as they walk with their wooden clogs …

    Going downhill drunken with the unexpected beauty of this land, there I arrive to Karini site, I sleep beside the hollows of gigantic plane-trees accompanied by the sing of rare birds and the gurgle of water… Keramia, Assomatos, Ayioi Anargyri, Ippeos, Sykounda, villages expecting me.. I wonder whether I will have time to visit them or the afternoon will stop me…