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| Santorini |
So it was a plane to Thessaloniki, which we only made by good fortune. We fucked up by just assuming there would be frequent buses to central Fira. There weren't. So we stood and tried to come to terms with a bus timetable that basically said "you are here for another night friends" when along comes some random coach who offers a 5 dollar trip straight to the airport. My theory is that he was on his way there anyway and being an opportunist, decided to increase his profits when he saw us with backpacks. I was concerned we still might not make it but this was a man who gets things done. At one point he was stuck in a slow moving line of cars caused by some other mortal buser but he just honked that queue away into oblivion. His furious toots implanting all sorts of daring evasive manoeuvre into his antecedents.
So we got to Thessaloniki and then onto a train to litochoro, the shadow of the mountain. I had been looking out the windows the whole way at various mountain ranges in the distance wondering which was olympus. When it came into view there was no mistaking it. The train stopped at litochoro station and no one got off, nor was there anyone waiting to get on. It was a dead deserted station. Since my solution to all problems in foreign countries is to just speak english at the least foreign looking person nearby, I was unsure how to proceed. Nevertheless we found a man lounging about near the ticket office. He said he was a taxi driver and was here to pick up someone else who had booked him, but hed take us to town anyway, another opportunist. On the way he told me I would need to take a taxi (his) up to the base camp to start the ascent for 25 eu. That seemed a lot so i took his card non-committally planning to shop around. We found a hotel, dropped off the backpacks, and went to find dinner. The taxi driver was chilling in the town square, I realised this was one of those places where theres just one of everything, so I agreed to meet him the next morning. I asked some people about the length of the climb and then went and bought supplies. The climb goes as follows: base camp is at 1000m accessible by road, then its 3h up to the "refuge" where you can buy supplies and sleep overnight if you wish, then its another 3h up to the summit. It was quite difficult to work out exactly how little food and water I could get away with carrying to minimise weight. The final total was 2 bananas, 2 snickers, 2 muslie bars and 1.5L of water. That is very little obviously but I figured I could refill at the refuge so it only needed to last the first 3h after breakfast, my first mistake.
So next morning i meet costos the taximan who unfortunately has a dental appointment he has to get to. He jumps out and a man he introduces as Zach, his father, gets in instead. Zach was that typical kind of charming provincial racist old conservative (athens is shit innit) and I considered the 25 well spent. Arriving at base camp I was dismayed to find no breakfast available. Oh well off to the refuge. There was just one path and it was wide, well maintained and quite steep. I was breathing heavily 5 minutes in. It continued that way for about an hour until it rose out of the tree line and became narrower, more ambiguous and steeper. Prettier though because I could see down. Looking upward the way was obscured by cloud, and continued to be until the top. It made it mysterious and foreboding and I assume why the ancient greeks considered it the home of the gods.
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| Looking up from the trail at about 2000m |
The refuge arrived 2h after base camp. The estimates id been given showed little respect for my mountain hiking abilities, or perhaps assumed id be carrying a sensible amount of food and water. I proved them wrong on both counts. I didnt find any supplies available here either, and seeing the path those supplies would have had to take up, I didnt want to find out how much they would cost were I too do a proper search. So the bananas ended up powering the whole climb. The same trend continued from 2000m, steeper, even less of a path and getting colder. It began to seem like a totally different world from the one below. It was a bit moonlike. Even the air was thinner which seemed to make me weaker but also greatly improve the taste of snickers bars. I dropped a little peanut part and it was heart breaking. Every calorie counts, The terrain was now full of tiny rocks, shale which threatened to slide you back for each step forward adding to the exhaustion. Honestly climbing upward solidly for hours on end is the most draining thing ive ever done. But the call of the summit gets stronger with every step so there is no stopping.
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| Looking at Mytikos from Skala |
The first peak you reach at the end of the difficulty shaley part (called devils stair i think) on the standard trail up olympus is called skala. From here two more are available that lead to different peaks, an easy one (i forget) and a hard one (mytikos, where zeus lives). The easy is a gentle slop off to the left along a ridge. The hard is a crack in the rocks leading downward into something totally different to the steep hiking so far. I knew in advance that narrow passage had claimed the lives of climbers before and it didnt disguise its menace. It would require hands on climbing and a warning sign insisted upon previous experience.
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| The entrance to mytikos |
I had to at least see what such a trail was like and so carefully climbed in. This was the highlight of the whole climb. The difficulty level was perfect. Something like an 80 degree incline where each stop took consideration and planning while still being safe enough to attempt without ropes. Though there were rungs hammered in for ropes should you be so inclined. I went about 20% of the way through this route then turned back. I did this for a number of reasons. I had no food left and little water. I had also reached my time limit. We had a bus to catch back to athens that night so the allotted times were strict overestimates. And I was afraid too. I didnt know how the altitude was affecting me or how long my strength would last. If I lost it all suddenly out on that exposed face id have been in a lot of trouble. So I climbed back up to skala and began the descent.
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| The way back |
Almost immediately regret washed over me. Skipping down the shale stair I realised the descent would take half the time I had allowed and I still had a lot of energy. But it was definitely out of the question to reclimb the stair and begin it again. That was an opportunity lost that I will probably never have again. I remembered helen had said she wanted her honeymoon to be in santorini and all of a sudden marriage became much more attractive to me... I would make her climb it too. I havent felt elation like I did on that mountain since childhood and I want to force that upon everyone I know, the mountain is a gift like a giant puppy that will love you and hurt you in equal quantities.
2 hours later I was back at the base camp. eating lunch and reflecting on the climb, and about to make a serious error. It was now 4:30 and I hadnt planned to be back in town till about 7. So if I called the taxi I would be at a loose end for a couple of hours (and out another 25 eu). Now, there was another trail available from the base camp to the town through the ravines that I had considered doing with helen instead of the mountain climb, The waiter told me it was about a 4 hour walk. Since the mountain took me less time on each leg than id been led to believe I downgraded this in my mind to about 2.5 hours which was perfect. I then assessed my legs, they felt fine except for a minor blister. So I refilled my water and set off into the ravine.
It was not as clearly marked as the trail upward had been so I began to wonder if I was actually going the right way. I asked each group I came across (the whole time I never encountered another person on their own at olympus) if this was the correct way to litochoro. No one knew. Well some claimed to and gave me directions which were then contradicted by the next group and so on. One woman confidently told me it was just up ahead about 20mins while I was about half an hour into a supposedly 4-5 hour walk. In what must be one of the strongest demonstrations of confirmation bias ever I actually believed her and gladly marched off in the direction so indicated. But unless Litochoro, as well as being a town, also means random area of dense forest deep in ravine, she was wrong. SO there I was lost in the wilderness while, technically on my way to the airport. At least I have an answer to the stress question in the med school interviews now.
Further onward I came upon a little chapel built into a cave with a purportedly magic spring trickling forth. Here finally there was a clearly marked route toward my destination (a red arrow drawn in chalk on a rock labelled with a word that contained some of the letters of litochoro, I chose to ignore the x and triangle characters in the middle). The beginning of this route was a steep narrow rocky staircase doubling as a conduit for the holy stream, one mans blessing is anothers curse.
The urgency of getting back to town was weighing heavily on me by now, God knows how much time I wasted getting to this point. So I decided to run rather than walk (where the trail allowed) now that I was somewhat confident of my direction. This was another mistake. When I began this trail I was expecting a steady decline from 1000m altitude to sea level, much like the mountain declines from 2000 to 1000m etc. Actually though it was a continuously undulating path that wound up one side of the ravine then back down and up the other constantly, whether it was to show off the scenery, avoid impassible sections, or torture the wayward hiker ill never know. So running quickly drained me of whatever energy I had left after olympus. It also forced me to consume about 75% of my water supply before id gone more than a third of the way.
At this point I was realising why no one could offer useful directions earlier. This trail that had begun from the chapel was barely used. I didnt meet another living soul on it. All of the hikers I had encountered earlier had driven in to walk the region around the mountain base camp. Missing the flight back to the uk was no longer the worst case scenario. To summarise, I am now utterly exhausted, hungry, very low on water, alone in a canyon that I didnt tell anyone I was entering, and an unknown distance from town. When the trail crested and allowed a glimpse of the horizon all I could see was forest and rock wall into the distance. My mental state at this point is a carousel of frustration and regret. Why didnt I take the taxi? Is it too late to turn back? Should I try to find a way down to the stream and drink that? Why did I begin a half day trek at 4pm after that morning climbing a mountain usually done over 2 days? Am I even going the right way? How do I distil this nightmare into an anecdote fit for an interview? Will anything ever again taste as sweet as the water I drink when I get out of here? Oh my god the trail is going upward and backwards again. If I had continued on to the second peak this wouldnt have happened. Why didnt I take the fucking taxi?
After about an hour or two the trail revealed the ocean. That was good. Litochoro sat between the sea and the mountain. There was an actual end to this canyon. Just in time too. I had less than 100ml of water at this point. Thirst is like a bacterial infection. Constantly growing, just irritating at first but threatening to shut down vital systems if left unchecked. When it grew too great I would treat it with a mouthful of water but it never kills them off entirely. Each resurgence is a stronger strain than the last. One effect of my dehydration was that stumbles were an increasingly common phenomenon. Consideration of what a twisted ankle or damaged shin would do became a new and frequent steed for my mental merry-go-round. Soon I noticed footprints in the dirt from which I took great comfort. I am not sure why, perhaps they indicated that if my legs did fail I would eventually be found on this part of the trail. Though I definitely did not reason such at the time.
The cruel trail forced me to drink the last of my water about 20 minutes before it finally released me, 12 hours after Id left back into litochoro. I staggered down into the town square caked in dust and dirt, dressed in womans pants, relief rather than food or water fuelling my continued movement, where an angel of mercy sat full 2l water bottle in hand. But it was powerade though that my body craved, what good is water without sodium and potassium ions to pump it lumen to cell.
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| Litochoro exit looking back |
I felt a sort of sickness ive never experienced before, nausea that could be brought on just by breathing deeply. I was still hungry though so we ate and then got the bus to katerina then to athens, arriving for the second time just before dawn. Then to the airport to spend the day in the business lounge where much to the attendants disgust I ate my fares worth in little sandwiches and biscuits. I would have liked to sleep after the olympus adventure but that wasnt possible until 30 hours later back in ilford, london. Next up: Ben Nevis.
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| Nausea + Happiness |
