{"id":7571,"date":"2022-06-28T07:09:22","date_gmt":"2022-06-28T07:09:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cyclingdestination.cc\/?p=7571"},"modified":"2022-07-02T09:27:29","modified_gmt":"2022-07-02T09:27:29","slug":"cycling-in-northern-greece-from-florina-to-nimfeio","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cyclingdestination.cc\/en\/verhalen\/fietsen-in-noord-griekenland-van-florina-naar-nimfeio","title":{"rendered":"Cycling in northern Greece: from Florina to Nimfeio"},"content":{"rendered":"

Coffee is the engine of Greek morning society. Nobody sets off without coffee. On the road to Kastoria, I even saw a real 'Coffee-drive-in'. Even for the Netherlands, where we drink coffee at every meeting, this is a step too far. Here, people prefer to drink an ice-cold frapp\u00e9, coffee with ice and lots of sugar. It is easy to take with you and if you finish a little, you can refill it later. Ideal, especially for cyclists. In the warm weather of the region Western Macedonia<\/a> an ice-cold frapp\u00e9 is also just a little tastier than a lukewarm espresso. If you go cycling in northern Greece, here's a tip: without sugar, it's a bit of a bust. I'll stick to hot coffee from the Nespresso machine in the morning for now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Mechanic Philippos <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

On the outside, the workshop<\/a> by Philippos on a second-hand phone repair shop, of which we also have many in the Netherlands. The saying 'never judge a book by it's cover' certainly applies here. First, I am introduced to Greek ingenuity. An ancient invention to make a sliding door 'automatic'. With a bottle of water and a piece of string. Ingenious in its simplicity and it leads driver Lambros to another one of his infectious laughs. Meanwhile, Philippos is looking at my bike with a carpenter's eye. The issue was a bent brake disc, but in the meantime his eye also fell on my front derailleur. It wasn't quite right. I hadn't seen that, but he had. Just put the Shimano Di2 of my Optimum into setting mode and five minutes later it was solved. I rightly call him a bike whisperer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"philippos,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Florina to Nimpheio<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

With a fixed bike, we head into the mountains. Today the goal is to explore the route between Florina, Lake Vegoritida and eventually the climb to Nimpheio. To get there, we throw the bike in the boot and ride towards the starting point Florina. On our way there, we ride over a magnificent climb, to the ski station of Vitsi. Yes, indeed. There is another ski station here too. This time it is a single meadow with a simple lift, but once again you can try your skis here in winter. The climb is relatively steep but well paved. You arrive at a nice elevation and there you drive into a Greek army base. Despite the cool views, good to remember that they prefer not to have photos of this place. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Florina<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The small town of Florina, against the ridge of the Varnoundas is close to the border with northern Macedonia. On a roundabout near the town square, a dancing bear with a cello is the eye-catcher. The relationship is not yet entirely clear to me. The town has a rich and tumultuous history. <\/strong>As we get ready for a bike ride we plop down in the lobby of the fancy five-star hotel The Lynx<\/a>. From here you have an insane view of the city and in terms of facilities, this is ideal for a basecamp. The coffee tastes good and the service is top-notch. I get on my bike here and head towards Evora, on Lake Vegoritida. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Out of town, into the countryside. <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

From Florina, a provincial road runs in a straight line towards Amintaio. Although perhaps better in terms of road surface, I decide to plan a small return after a few kilometres outside the town. I drive down the larger road and immediately find myself in a time machine. An abandoned bus station, some of which is fully grown, but also seems to still be stalling a working bus. Special. Dilapidated buildings are interspersed with arable fields. I drive through small villages where the sun sets the rhythm of the day and where the older (male) inhabitants enjoy themselves with coffee and good conversation. The look of disbelief when they see a racing cyclist is one to frame. What is striking is that the roads outside the village are often more than fine, but in the village you still have to dodge the occasional pothole. The charm of Cycling in Northern Greece.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"cyclingdestination,<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Unexpectedly unpaved<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The almost abandoned railway line guides my route. I expect the goods train any moment but it is apparently not coming today. I turn right and the road along the railway line is a mix of good tarmac and firm gravel. No problem with a road bike, but be careful of big stones. This was not quite in the route description. Meanwhile, I encounter several tractors and each time a puzzled look: 'what is that tall Dutchman doing here?' The next village looms and at a t-junction the Wahoo points me left. A small mistake, 'a komootje' as we call it. The road quickly turns into a rough gravel strip. A tractor approaches me and the man is already starting to make some strange gestures. What transpires? 200 metres down the road I have to go through a deep ditch filled with water. Now that's cycling in northern Greece!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I make it across with dry feet, thanks to a beam along the side. I peek at the map and see that the main road and thus the fine asphalt awaits me within a few hundred metres. Sometimes it is also accepting and working with what you have. In the past, I would get quite irritated by something like this. Here in beautiful Greece, I let it slide away from me. Maybe just an extra frapp\u00e9 later? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Open landscape<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The larger road leads via a short climb, along the railway line towards Amintaio. At the top of the climb, the landscape opens up and you can see the lake on the one hand, but also the region's power plants on the other. A special view and also a reminder that the energy transition is still in full swing or sometimes yet to begin. The presence of the sun could be a nice alternative. As would a transition to cycling in the city. Because that remains a thorny issue. In all cities, the car is the means of transport. A shame really, because certainly the old centre of Kastoria would be a beautiful pedestrian area, where people can live and enjoy themselves. Time will tell, I also understand from my travelling companions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"cycling<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Friend Spyros<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Just before I drive into town, friend Spyros comes alongside me in the car. At first I think some lunatic is trying to run me off the road, but it turns out to be someone I know. Never judge a book by its cover. A few kilometres later we meet and the cordial greeting betrays enough. I have gained a Greek friend. Together we start the second part towards Evora. A viewpoint over Lake Vegoritida, where an energy commune runs a beautiful restaurant and provides activity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The road there is well paved. We drive through vineyards of one of the region's biggest producers. It is highly recommended to return here for a visit and a tasting. It forms a nice foreground for the ridge behind. The climb to Kella you can see nicely against the ridge. Did someone say hairpin bends?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"cyclonews.gr,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"cyclonews.gr,<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The lake and the climb<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Lake Vegoritida is a huge pool of water, partly surrounded by the mountains bordering northern Macedonia. On the south side of the lake there is arable farming and the link to the rest of the region. The road that runs along the lake is partly sheltered. During my trip, the temperature is quite high and the headwind we have acts more like a hairdryer than an air conditioner. This is a pity. Together with Spyros, we set a nice pace. Once at the head of the lake, the road winds through agricultural fields. Here you will find fruit and vineyards. The (mostly) Albanian workers work their asses off in the heat. The f\u00f6hn wind and the burning sun make me start to cook quite a bit myself. We approach the foot of the climb to Evora and in the village of Panagitsa we park the bike on the square for a cold drink of water. Delicious. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"cycling,<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Evora<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The climb to Evora is one to frame. From the village, you drive down a central street in which the local architect has built a kind of pendulum. As we start up, several locals shout all kinds of things at us in Greek. Spyros doesn't hear it and I don't understand. I smile kindly at the toothless grandmother who shouts 'Giro' after me. That smile disappears like snow in the sun, because as soon as you leave the village a vicious killer is waiting for you. Figuratively then, because we are talking about a climb that covers 280 metres of altitude in 2.5 kilometres. You read it right. This is the better stomping work. Friend Spyros starts zigzagging along the road pretty soon. My altitude training in Switzerland seems to be paying off here, as I manage to keep riding pretty well. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"Spyros,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"cyclonews.gr,<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Views and more views<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

'Where is that Evora now! ' Calls my Greek mate after me? In the village, someone had whispered to him that it was only a kilometre and a half. That last kilometre is precisely the problem. It doesn't get below ten per cent and with peaks of seventeen per cent, it's raking and raking here. We stop about 400 metres below the summit. Why? The views here are insane and the only hairpin bend in the climb offers great photo opportunities. That it also allows us to catch our breath is an added bonus. We roll up the last few metres and there our support team is waiting for us. They have already feasted on the restaurant's pancakes and Lambros has another iced coffee. We plop down in the shade. One thing is certain. For today it's done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"switchbacks,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"switchbacks,<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The road towards Nympheo<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

After a longer break, we ride down for some photos but then we throw the bikes in the back and drive towards Nympheo, our ultimate goal. These are such long days and since we are also here for another purpose, riding by car part of the way is no luxury. After all, we still need to shake hands, drink coffee and under the guise of 'stretching our legs', Lambros has a nicotine craving that needs to be satisfied. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The route to Nympheo is mostly through villages and on larger roads. It is quite quiet here in terms of traffic. You also work towards the dessert and that is the climb and finish at the top of this beautiful climb. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nympho<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The town of Nimfeo used to be called Neveska. That word had three meanings: Bright, Snowy, Hidden. Bright, snowy and hidden. The village is hidden on the mountain, it snows and it is a beautiful place. Hence. Cycling in Greece continues to surprise. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The climb up is one to train for. Steep, almost seven kilometres long and with maximum gradients reaching 16 per cent, this is an almost Vuelta worthy climb and that in northern Greece! But take note: it is not a goat track as there is a nicely paved road and all I can utter as I go up is: 'wow'. The ascent puts you so above the valley and the hinterland we just crossed by car. As a result, the views are bizarrely beautiful. You can see for miles, there are several lakes, mountain ridges and, if you count carefully, you can see four power plants that complete the view. I don't find them a dissonant in this region. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Visiting the Don<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Once at the top, you drive up against the beautiful town of Nympheo. We turn left towards a hotel. Or well, it's more like a mansion with a huge garden. Once parked, I can only see how surreal the setting is. A huge garden, with a terrace where 40 people could plop down in an instant. However, there is only one person sitting there. A man wearing a Panama hat, a walking stick and sunglasses, waiting in the shade for us to arrive. In this setting, I imagine myself visiting Don Corleone from the Godfather. Jokingly, I send my wife an app: 'whatever happens, I love you'. Of course, here too, reality is different from what you might think. The man in question owns the house that also serves as a hotel. Very hospitable, driven and with vision. He apologises for his poor English, but I sense that he is glad we are here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Wonderful place to stay<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In the adjoining hotel or actually a kind of mansion, space has been made for about 30 guests. The house belonged to a former driver and has actually been restored to its former glory precisely by leaving it as it was. Well maintained, though, but also with a lot of attention to detail. A wonderful place to end or to explore the surrounding area from here. Then remember: you have to go up the mountain every time. So it is very steep. But once you get there, everything disappears, like snow in the sun!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Route<\/h2>\n\n\n\n