the world in one ride
We’re on the Greek Island of Lesvos again for our family holiday – grateful to have made it under current pandemic restrictions I’m making up for a missed year of riding my favourite local laps. Pedalling inland towards Eresos village for the fourth time in ten days I muse about what makes a single route so intoxicating that you will ride it repeatedly in a short space of time without getting bored.
An olive branch under 50km and an ouzo under 1000m ascent, this loop consistently takes about 3hrs 20 but that is just the Strava headlines. The reality is that this tour of Western Lesvos takes you on an adventure spanning 20 million years of history. I reckon you could teach at least 5 GCSEs along the way!
Ancient History
Turning off the main road you’re straight into the steep narrow streets of Eresos. Picture postcard stone and shuttered buildings rub shoulders with houses calling out to be restored and loved. May Day wreathes crafted from palm fronds and beach flowers hang in doorways, while glimpses of courtyard gardens distract you from the sharp incline. Climbing through the village, greeting people with a cheerful ‘kalimera’ it’s easy to imagine myself living here.
In ancient times Eresos and its seaside annexe, Skala Eresos, formed one of the 6 city-states on Lesvos. As you head out from Eresos along the dirt road to neighbouring Sigri, the hillsides are sculpted with terracing and stone walls. While some are modern-day boundary markers, I imagine the terracing dates from the ancient and Roman history of the Island when Eresos was an important trading post, distributing olive oil across the Empire. Today’s hillside inhabitants - sheep - are sure footed and at home on the loose, rocky ground. Adept at grazing they have no need of level terraces.
Chapter 1
One of the reasons that I love this ride so much is the three distinct chapters within it. This first chapter, taking you across the rocky, exposed hillsides and valleys to Sigri is awe inspiring and peaceful.
The first big climb winds round a bowl at the head of the Eresos valley. Surrounding the valley, the hillsides house sheep and occasional huts, while the floor is scattered with olive trees and odd buildings. Once the ancient eras had ended and Christianity arrived the region, Eresos lost none of its status. There are at least 3 pristine white chapels beside the dirt road to Sigri, only noticeable by the evergreen trees that are planted to bring shade.
Reaching the crest of the hill I’m disappointed to not be greeted by the surreal vision of a giant, stuffed teddy bear sitting on a chair under a sunshade! In previous years this bizarre sentry sat beside the cattle-grid marking the hilltop boundary. It appears he’s another victim of the pandemic!
Continuing west, the dirt road descends to the riverbed via some beautiful switchbacks. The farm trucks and occasional scooter that still use the road, are obvious from the clouds of dust in the distance so there’s plenty of time to enjoy the gravity. By the time you reach the valley floor you forget that the modern world is only a few kilometres away. It feels like you are in the middle of nowhere – without the sun beating down this rocky landscape would feel barren and hostile – instead it feels enchanting.
Physical Geography 101
Oxbow lake – tick; flood plains – tick; gullies and evidence of the torrential power of runoff water – tick. It’s all there before you as you pedal along. Huge boulders are scattered along the riverbed and at one point the central section of a concrete bridge lies 50m downstream from its foundations. Every time I ride along here I’m imagine what it would be like in the winter. I am transfixed by the harsh beauty of the area. I spend so much time in soft, green landscapes at home that I find this grey and mustard world entrancing. When I’m guiding friends here I alternate between silence and questioning them to see if it affects them in the same way. For some it does, but not all.
An area of lowlands gives the false impression that you are nearing Sigri but in reality there are still another couple of hills to climb before you see it’s medieval castle in the distance. For now though, you are treated to aerial displays by giant birds of prey before turning right for my least favourite climb of the ride. Given that there is a solid 500m ascent coming up, it’s funny that this innocuous looking climb is so low in my estimation. The problem is that the gradient is a bit meh for me – it’s not gentle enough to be ignored and not steep enough to be attacked. It’s just annoying.
The climb's only saving grace is the view from the top. Looking back your eye is drawn along the yellow and green valley to the sea, while looking ahead gives you a view that makes you stop and stare. Take away the 30-degree heat and you could be in Scotland. Blue sea, white edge-bays, rocky islands and Sigri castle in the far distance: it’s idyllic. I find it hard to draw my eyes back to the road, but the loose descent is too much fun to be ignored. A tall stone arched bridge sees you across another dry riverbed before you drop down between a Mediterranean homestead and religious settlement. The contrasts on this ride and this Island are always entertaining!
Modern history to your left, prehistoric to your right
Before the final ridgeline overlooking Sigri you are presented with two eras of Lesvos’ history. To the unfocused eye the object on the left, overlooking the bay, is a miniature windmill but on closer inspection it is rather more sinister: a derelict gun placement. Several Aegean islands, including Lesvos, were liberated at the end of WW2 by the ‘Sacred Band’, a team of SAS-trained Greek soldiers, but it’s easier to find evidence of prehistoric and ancient history here. It is hard to imagine how the islanders felt about Greek occupation, coming just two decades after they finally threw off the shackles of Turkish/Ottoman occupation.
Immediately after the gun placement is the first of the petrified trees. A forest equivalent of Pompeii these perfectly preserved trees are between 17-20 million years old. A couple of examples give you a taste of what is to come but the main spectacle is on the next climb.
Turning the final corner on the dirt track Sigri is laid out before you in all its white-building and blue-shuttered glory. Closing the first chapter of the ride, I usually stop here for a banana on the beach or a coke in my favourite seaside taverna.
Chapter 2:
Economy and Geography (human and physical)
The middle chapter of the ride is a 16km climb from the coast to the Byzantine Ilapou Monastery 510m above sea level. The road skirts along the edge of Sigri harbour; it’s not uncommon to see nets being mended by hand on the side of the road, while the new shipping port is being constructed on the waterside. The EU has pumped millions of Euros into the development of the main road linking Sigri (West) and Mytilene (East) and it’s a beautiful road to climb, even on a borrowed hardtail. Wide and smooth, with a double climbing lane, you feel safe from the vehicles. Another joy of road cycling in Lesvos is the drivers – they give you so much space, even at speed, so you never feel threatened as you do at times in the UK.
Taking this loop in a clockwise direction gives plenty of time to admire the prehistoric trees. The initial climb out of Sigri is a shock to the system but is long enough that by the time you reach the lookout point and the first petrified trees, your legs are warm and you’re ready to consider your surroundings. In what could be a perfect pandemic museum solution, you cycle past fenced-off groups of tree trunks and fallen trees. All within touching distance it is incredible to imagine that these relics are 17-20 million years old – you can even see the rings within them.
In previous years the trees had all been covered in white plaster casts to protect them, but this year they are surrounded by white-coated archaeologists with paintbrushes and Indiana Jones-style sun hats. At the first site you can see three wind turbines in the far distance. Behind the middle turbine is a ‘hilltop’ with the Monastery perched atop.
Thankfully at this point the road sits just in the lee of the ridgeline, giving a welcome break from the strong winds at this altitude. Eating up a chunk of kilometres I return to staring at the landscape to my right. Every time I ride this route, I try desperately to burn the landscape into my memory so that I can return here simply by closing my eyes. The road underneath my wheels might be smooth tarmac but I still feel that I’m in the middle of a wilderness.
The occasional lorry hurtles past reminding you that the road is still a work in progress, and the old road lies abandoned to one side, left to crumble away. Turning north and starting to climb again in earnest, you come to the next major site of petrified trees. They were created by volcanic eruptions in the area at that time. Clouds of ash descended freezing the trees in time. One of the young trees in this next group has been uncovered with its roots intact. It’s hard to process the scale of what you’re looking at. The beauty of an in-situ display like this is that you can see the strata in the rocks behind the trees. Even to my untrained eyes I can see the different levels of rock and debris that covered them, each marking a new geological occurrence.
Pressing on you reach the hardest part of this part of the ride. On windy days it is hard to maintain momentum against the wind, but the winding mountain road creates reprieves from the onslaught just as you are about to give up hope! While I would rather ride an entire 50km off road, the physical challenge of this section is rewarding in itself. You don’t often get a chance to ride up from the sea to a mountain peak – well, not in Kent anyway!
All that remains in this middle chapter of the ride is to cycle up the access track to the Monastery itself. The narrow road becomes increasingly steep as it winds round climbing to the summit. Just before you reach the Monastery is a Greek army base, again a relic of the Second World War which was taken on and is still in use today. At this height, in mid-August, the foliage is reduced to bushes that look like molecular drawings, dried spikey plants and a mix of oak and fig trees. I am drawn to imperfection in all areas of life and the beauty in these plants is undeniable.
If you’re not already tired from the climb from Sigri this final push to the top rinses you. A smooth, cobbled ramp with ridiculous combination of corner and incline presents the final challenge. The first time I rode it years ago I didn’t make it and my stubborn nature has not let that happen again. Most of that first visit to the Monastery was spent thinking about the skills, speed and angles necessary to get up the whole ramp. I now arrive breathless but triumphant at the gates but firmly on two wheels!
Religious Education
The oldest Monastery on Lesvos, Ilapou was founded in 800AD and despite being perched on top of mountain, it has been ransacked 4 times over its history. Still a working Order, the Monastery is a tranquil refuge after the climb. Stepping inside you see sections of petrified tree before entering the cloistered courtyard. We were allowed into the Museum on one of our trips this week and saw religious texts and artefacts dating from the 11th Century. If your breath wasn’t taken away by the climb up here, it is by the age of the objects you’re a few cm’s away from. The view from the ramparts is also mindboggling.
Chapter 3
Usually at this point my mind is turning to lunch! The final chapter of the ride takes you back down to sea-level and on average never takes more than 40 minutes, which means you can easily make it in time for food!
Rejoining the main road the wind hits you again. On some days it’s so strong that you have to balance riding fast enough that you can maintain headway with not going so fast that you are blown off-course. It’s a bizarre feeling but doesn’t last long as you’re soon out of the wind and on the narrow road back towards Eresos.
The first few kilometres undulate through the tops of the hills. Blind corners mean you need to watch your speed but it’s tempting to use the downhill momentum to propel you back up to the next one. Eventually the sky ahead lightens and the hills part to give your first view of the sea. From here it’s a matter of minutes to snake your way back. Dropping suddenly round tight switchbacks, that hug the hillside, roadside memorials remind you of the perils of the route.
To either side ribbons of green, lush growth weave through the bleached hills, revealing water courses and springs. Returning to Eresos from the north, you realise how large the town is. Laid out before you it’s a blanket of terracotta roofs with a large church and marble-filled graveyard. Turning left you re-join the road to Skala Eresos. The road runs alongside the riverbed where concrete and street art gives way to trees, bushes and reeds as you reach ‘turtle bridge’ and the entrance to the hotel.
Only on windy days will this ride take more than 3hrs 20mins riding time – not much for a trip through the world’s history from prehistoric to present day! I can’t wait to return next year and ride it again, gorging on the views and history until I’m intoxicated once more.
