Day 85 - August 5th: Tunnel Vision
Ag. Spiridon To Palefito: 31.1 miles / 2,434 total
Christina swooped in to pick me up out of the Black Bear corridor at 4:30pm and we drove 7 kilometers on my road, then a left turn 8 km up the mountain to a ghost village that was completely off-season—no restaurants, stores, or hotels open except the one she had found. None had answered their phones, but she tracked down the caretaker of a shuttered hotel who called the owner and opened a room for us. There were three humans and a pack of town dogs sharing the entire place.
Dinner was down the mountain at Voras Gefsis, a stone and wood lodge perched above the valley and Lake Vegoritida. The rain started just as we arrived, so we ducked under the porch and chose an indoor table. We were the only diners. The chef came out personally to walk us through the menu. We shared a crisp green salad with sliced figs and cheese, pumpkin soup, wild boar with a prune reduction and currant mashed potatoes, and ended with vanilla ice cream studded with almonds and chocolate chunks. When I walked into the kitchen afterward and said, “Bravo chefs, that was the best meal I’ve had in 84 days!” I meant it.
Back in our stone cottage, the windows stayed open all night for the fresh mountain air. At 50°F, it was perfect sleeping weather. The caretaker kindly prepped a 7am breakfast for us: 4 eggs, white bread, juice, and coffee. Even with a late start at 8am, it was worth it.
The road picked up just under the cloud line. Thunder cracked around me as storms swirled in the mountains. A farm road led me for 10km past endless peach and apple orchards, before climbing a pass and back on the road before opening to a grand view behind me. I descended into Nisi, where Christina met me at 11am with fuel and news—no open hotels yet. She would push on to Edessa.
Rain came next, cold and steady, turning the road to Agras and Edessa into a slippery track. I stopped for coffee in Agras, then cut through the streets of Edessa to avoid the main highway. As I worked my way through the old streets of Edessa, I passed a massive oriental plane tree—so enormous it had buckled and broken through the narrow stone-paved street. Judging by its size and the way the road and homes bent around it, the tree had clearly been there long before either. Its gnarled roots had cracked the pavement, and its wide canopy shaded the street like a natural roof. The Platanus orientalis has been growing across the Balkans since antiquity, often planted near springs or village centers. Some are over a thousand years old and have quietly witnessed centuries of change. This one felt less like a feature of the street and more like its origin—everything else was built around it.
The downpour made it difficult to navigate, and by the time I reached the E86 heading out of town, I was soaked and in tunnel vision. I stuck to the traffic side to avoid the tight guardrail and stayed alert for trucks. Between orchards, puddles, and fogged glasses, the only cultural site I passed—Mesi, an ancient settlement from the Classical and Hellenistic periods—flashed by through sheets of rain.
The region of Edessa and its surroundings has a long history of cultivation and significance. Known in ancient times as Aegae, Edessa became the first capital of the Macedonian Kingdom under the Argead dynasty, before Philip II moved it to Pella. Today the area’s reputation rests on its abundant orchards and waterfalls, but just outside town, archaeological digs like Mesi remind us that people have worked and lived in this fertile mountain valley for thousands of years.
Christina and Jax met me at 4:45pm just past Trifilli after a hard-earned 50k. Most of today was about staying upright and dry, and we survived to do it again tomorrow.
My blog editor was thrilled with the short entry since he was hungry for dinner.
Thanks for following along and for the support.
Cheers,
David.
