Oops, bicycle on the motorway.

Sped along the plain again before heading up the flanks of Mount Ossa. Amazing to be cycling up the source of a phrase. Pelion is in the distance. Quick snack overlooking a Mycenean hill fort. Am heading for the Vale of Tembi, recommended by the Lonely Planet guide.

As happened yesterday, it was really hard to understand and negotiate the motorway interchange. Pleased to get on the quiet parallel road. Until..

My nice quiet road simply came to an end, cut off by a barrier from the horrid main road. It didn't continue on the other side of the main road. No option then. Lifted the bike with 30 kg in panniers over the two foot barrier. (Who ever thought going back was an option? I hate going back.) My map shows that the motorway ends around here and becomes a main road, so I figured if I go a km or so on the motorway by mistake, there's no great harm done. The road just switches from motorway to A road, and the volume of traffic must stay the same, I reckon.

It eventually becomes clear that I am probably on a motorway. Worse, there is one lane in each direction, and no hard shoulder. I cycle carefully down a 2 foot strip between a white line and the cliff face to my right. Sometimes my tiny lane vanishes, usually on a tight bend that leaves me close to the rock. All I can do is cycle as fast and as precisely as possible and hope the cars and trucks miss me. I know there is only 12km of this.

After a while there is a lay-by where people can get coffee. I stop for a break, pretty worn out with the adrenalin. Terror plus physical concentration are really tiring. I ask and am told this is indeed the motorway and bikes aren't allowed. But they agree there is nowhere else for me to go. I try to estimate how far it is to the first exit. Not easy.

Set off, still scared. Fortunately it is only 3 km to the exit. Once clear of the awful din of traffic, I have some fruit and a drink of water. My route now is a long detour that will let me see and cross the legendary Pindus river. The Temba valley was always a strategic path into Greece, so I grew up reading about the battles around it.

The river doesn't disappoint. This is really agrarian country, I suppose an alluvial plain. Easy to get lost among the tiny roads and tracks, but several people stop to help as I scan the map, and their advice is spot on.

Village after village drifts by, I skirt the coastline, all peaceful after the hollering of the motorway. Trouble is, being on tiny roads between the sea and the motorway, I have no chance of finding the hotel I planned to stay in. There is simply no road from where I am to the town.

So I end up two towns and 5 km beyond where I planned to stay. Worse, the town I can reach is a further 5 km up the lower slopes of Mount Olympus. Hard work at this stage of the day, and inevitably it is getting dark. Still, serendipity is not far away, the view of the twin peaks of Olympus as I climb towards the Snipe gorge is worth the climb, and the day. And I find a lovely hotel, and eat a while tin of calamari and half a loaf. Yum!