Hiking Log: Mt. Zeus, Naxos
Apr. 4th, 2003 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
canyonwrenI've been hiking for a while this season, just short, lowland hikes, but I thought I'd start this season's hiking log with my trek up Mt. Zeus (Zas) on Naxos.
Mt. Zeus, Friday March 28
Buttkicking rating (out of 5): 2.5
Coolness factor (out of 5): 5 Hey, it was in Greece, after all!
Using the vague, flowery descriptions found in Nicoleta's copy of Walking on Naxos, Katherine and I decided that the best hike would be up the highest peak on the island--perhaps the highest peak in the Cyclades. Unfortunately, although sunny, the skies were still pretty hazy and we weren't sure about the prospect of a view. Also unfortunately, we weren't sure how to get to the trailhead. Using the book, we pinpointed on the map the most likely area of the trailhead, and showed the map to the bus station attendent.
"We want to go here." Pointed at a branch in the road just above Filoti. "Can we be let off right here? What bus do we take to get there?"
Through language barriers and misunderstanding *why* we wanted to get off in the middle of nowhere, the man eventually directed us to a bus. We went through the same song and dance with the bus driver, and he eventually waved us away with a "Ne, ne." Good.
So, he stopped at a branch in the road about thirty minutes out of Naxos Town, and ten minutes out of Filoti. It looked good, according to the juxtaposition on our tourist map, so we hopped off. The other tourists in the bus looked a little fruck out. We headed straight for the little church. The book claimed that the trailhead was right next to the little church, and went directly up the mountain. The problem was that the church was on a peak, and all trails led downhill. Not that we spotted any. At that point, Katherine and I became aware that there was a little white church on every single mini-mountain top within viewing distance. Great. Which one was our church?
Upon consulting the silly map in the book, we realized we needed to hike up the road a bit further, and upon doing so, came shortly across another little white church. This one had a trail next to it, and following it led us directly to a fence with a spastic little puppy yapping away hysterically. A elderly farmer of some type soon showed up, and we were afraid he was telling us to go away, but he opened the gate and ushered us in. He didn't speak any English, but we gathered he was asking us where we were from. Upon learning that Katherine was from Canada, he got all excited and started miming pregnancy. What? Katherine, who has been traveling for three months in countries where she doesn't speak the languages, twigged to his meaning: his mother was Canadian.
He told us to be careful (we think), and we headed up. The wildflowers were all in bloom, although I expect the season extends for quite some time. I noticed crocuses everywhere, which was fun, because I'd never seen them growing truly wild before. We passed terraced hillsides, ancient walls that were still being used to pen in goats, old lime kilns, and lots of scrubby bushes with vicious thorns. The book warned about poisonous vipers, but we didn't see any, thankfully.
We eventually made it to the peak of Mt. Zeus, or Zas, as the natives call it. This was part of our initial problem in making the bus driver understand where we want to go. We didn't understand why he kept saying "Zas" over and over again. Local legend has it that Zeus (the God) was raised in a cave found on the other side of the mountain, but owing to the fact that Katherine was wearing pretty skimpy footwear for hiking, we decided not to descend into the boulder field and try to find it.
The hike down was much quicker than the hike up (1000 meters), and we wandered into Filoti to grab a beer and kill an hour before the bus lumbered by to pick us up.
Mt. Zeus, Friday March 28
Buttkicking rating (out of 5): 2.5
Coolness factor (out of 5): 5 Hey, it was in Greece, after all!
Using the vague, flowery descriptions found in Nicoleta's copy of Walking on Naxos, Katherine and I decided that the best hike would be up the highest peak on the island--perhaps the highest peak in the Cyclades. Unfortunately, although sunny, the skies were still pretty hazy and we weren't sure about the prospect of a view. Also unfortunately, we weren't sure how to get to the trailhead. Using the book, we pinpointed on the map the most likely area of the trailhead, and showed the map to the bus station attendent.
"We want to go here." Pointed at a branch in the road just above Filoti. "Can we be let off right here? What bus do we take to get there?"
Through language barriers and misunderstanding *why* we wanted to get off in the middle of nowhere, the man eventually directed us to a bus. We went through the same song and dance with the bus driver, and he eventually waved us away with a "Ne, ne." Good.
So, he stopped at a branch in the road about thirty minutes out of Naxos Town, and ten minutes out of Filoti. It looked good, according to the juxtaposition on our tourist map, so we hopped off. The other tourists in the bus looked a little fruck out. We headed straight for the little church. The book claimed that the trailhead was right next to the little church, and went directly up the mountain. The problem was that the church was on a peak, and all trails led downhill. Not that we spotted any. At that point, Katherine and I became aware that there was a little white church on every single mini-mountain top within viewing distance. Great. Which one was our church?
Upon consulting the silly map in the book, we realized we needed to hike up the road a bit further, and upon doing so, came shortly across another little white church. This one had a trail next to it, and following it led us directly to a fence with a spastic little puppy yapping away hysterically. A elderly farmer of some type soon showed up, and we were afraid he was telling us to go away, but he opened the gate and ushered us in. He didn't speak any English, but we gathered he was asking us where we were from. Upon learning that Katherine was from Canada, he got all excited and started miming pregnancy. What? Katherine, who has been traveling for three months in countries where she doesn't speak the languages, twigged to his meaning: his mother was Canadian.
He told us to be careful (we think), and we headed up. The wildflowers were all in bloom, although I expect the season extends for quite some time. I noticed crocuses everywhere, which was fun, because I'd never seen them growing truly wild before. We passed terraced hillsides, ancient walls that were still being used to pen in goats, old lime kilns, and lots of scrubby bushes with vicious thorns. The book warned about poisonous vipers, but we didn't see any, thankfully.
We eventually made it to the peak of Mt. Zeus, or Zas, as the natives call it. This was part of our initial problem in making the bus driver understand where we want to go. We didn't understand why he kept saying "Zas" over and over again. Local legend has it that Zeus (the God) was raised in a cave found on the other side of the mountain, but owing to the fact that Katherine was wearing pretty skimpy footwear for hiking, we decided not to descend into the boulder field and try to find it.
The hike down was much quicker than the hike up (1000 meters), and we wandered into Filoti to grab a beer and kill an hour before the bus lumbered by to pick us up.
