The silly title refers to a piano suite I once played, by Debussy I think. It runs round my head all day as I cycle. It is amazing, to be climbing Mt Parnassus: like being inside a myth.
The elderly hotel owner is lovely. He makes me a Greek coffee and we have a more complex conversation than I have managed in Greek so far, simply because he doesn't seem to be able to imagine that I don't understand. He is very patient repeating and I use my best guesswork, and we get by. He draws me a map of my route, with tips about where to turn and with all churches clearly marked. Inevitably I turn just past Aghios Paraskevi. There are churches and villages everywhere called Aghios Paraskevi: to me it means "St Prepared" and I can't help thinking of Baden Powell.
Once off the main road and climbing towards Dhavlia, it is picturesque. They are harvesting olives, and everyone returns my "kali mera" heartily, clearly finding me funny. I like the way people say hello in the street, and start every conversation with "good morning", "good evening" and so on. It happened less in Meteora, I suppose because so many are tourists. It is good to have this friendly courtesy back.
The air is lovely, the mountain majestic to my left. Above the olive slopes it is bare rock, mostly grey but orange where there has been a fall of rock.
I stop for breakfast at a high point, looking down on olive groves. Cypress trees are dotted around the landscape, brushstrokes of dark colour pointing upwards as straight as the tails of happy kittens. These are the most distinctive new part of this landscape, other than the bare peak at my back.
Past the church up a steep and bumpy concrete road and I emerge at a water fountain. I am on the outskirts of Dhavlia. The road is steep down to the left, steep up to the right. I have no idea which way should be mine.
I ask a pair of telecoms engineers in a van, who stop for water at the fountain. I know within seconds that they cannot help (their first suggestion is that I go back the way I came, 18k to the main road). I smile a lot and wait for them to finish debating together and offering me advice, and thank them heartily.
With misgivings, I head off downhill as the road surface is better in that direction and it may take me to a junction where I can orient myself. This happens very quickly and I head back the way I came. From this point on it is a steady, grinding climb, apart from one hairpin bend that whizzes down for 3k and then crawls back up. There was a dirt track cutting out this 6 k detour but I didn't trust myself not to get lost. My experience of such short cuts is that they are always a bad idea: roads diverge, take vertiginous climbs and give way to rubble. I keep reminding myself of this as I labour up the far side.
The really tough bit sees Mt Parnassus (2550m) on my right and Mt Kirfis (1560m) on my left. The shade of Mt Kirfis keeps me cold, despite the continuous effort. It's a good road, a constant gradient that doesn't wear me out and in about 90 minutes I reach Arachova at a height of 960m. It is a pretty village, pasted tight over an outcrop of rock. I hardly draw breath on the decent, as I dash the remaining 8 k to Delphi in minutes. It seems steeper going down, but then it always does!
Hotel has a lovely balcony overlooking the bay of Corinth. I dry off in the sun after my shower, eating tinned calamari and bread. I swap bread for wine with the American couple on the next balcony. Once the sun has settled behind the mountain, stealing the remaining warmth and the sparkle of the sea, I make it an early night as usual! Looking forward to enjoying the "belly button of the world" tomorrow.
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