Cheers erupt as we board the train. We’re boarding the Eurostar from London to Paris. A newlywed couple travels directly ahead of us, the bride still in her wedding dress. Our excitement may be harder to see, but it’s just as palpable.
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As the train zips through the sun-drenched hills of Kent, I smile at my 11-year-old son, Ossian. He tries to hide in his hoodie, embarrassed by my railfan joke and the journey’s unexpected romantic twist. But the thought of hiking through one of the world’s most spectacular landscapes, the Vikos Valley in the Pindos Mountains of northwest Greece, keeps me in high spirits.
And there’s the thrill of getting there: after an overnight stay in Paris, you catch an early train to Zurich, then change to a train to Milan, your nose tickling as you peer out the window at a rugged diorama of Alpine peaks and grassy valleys.
In Milan, we decided to try out a spare Airbnb just a few minutes’ walk from the central station. The historic apartment was stunning, and the owner, Piergiorgio, so generous with his hospitality that the next day we drank too many espressos on the plant-filled balcony and had to rush to catch a train to Brindisi, port of departure for an overnight ferry to the Greek port of Igoumenitsa.
The author and his son swimming between trains in Zurich
Waking up a few hours before we docked, we ran out onto the deck to get our first glimpse of mainland Greece. The Pindos Mountains rose like colorful ripples along the horizon. Like a time-lapse painting, details emerged as we drew closer to land, the peach whisper of sunrise transforming into a bright rose gold. It had been a long time since I had stood on the deck of a Greek ferry with only my backpack and a brief outline of my travel plan, and I was filled with joy and relief to see that Ossian was enjoying our journey as much as I was.
It’s been a long time since I’ve stood on the deck of a Greek ferry with just a backpack and a rough outline of my travel plans.
After 10 years of being a mom to small children and coming to terms with the seismic changes that come with it, I haven’t had much time or money to take more daring trips. With a big birthday coming up for me and Ossian starting middle school, I feel like now is the time for more adventures. And some 2:1 time together. Soon he may not be so keen.
The author’s son Ossian is enjoying an “epic” adventure. Photo: Rhiannon Batten
I realise there’s a practical advantage to taking an 11-year-old with me. We rent a car and before I’ve even buckled my seatbelt, Ossian has connected my phone to the dashboard screen, projecting our route via Bluetooth. We’re heading to Zagori, a region a 90-minute drive inland that’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site with cobbled villages, dramatic gorges and ancient stone bridges. We’ve come during the mid-year break to avoid the midsummer heat, but it’s still hot as we follow the scenic route into the mountains, dodging cows and dogs and sheep, and waiting with bated breath as a dizzying steepness appears around a hairpin bend.
In Kipoi, a sleepy village that was once Zagori’s “capital,” we stayed at Hotel Machalas. The rooms were cozy, with brightly colored carpets and painted ceilings. In the restaurant opposite, we dined on chips, beans, homemade salads, and souvlaki so tender that Ossian’s eyes widened after one bite. Breakfast was equally delicious. As we filled up on salty sheep’s cheese, olives, homemade bread and rich yogurt, older people sang along to Greek songs playing softly in the background.
For the next three days, you’ll walk north, from village to village. You’ll leave your rental car at the hotel and backpack to Monodendri, three hours away (you’ll catch a taxi back to collect your car at the end of the hike). The bridges in the area are the highlight of today’s route; most were built in the 18th and 19th centuries, and they’re all so distinctive and intricate, they look as if they were carved by elves.
Our first stop is Plakidas, a mysterious three-arched bridge that undulates like a sleeping dragon over a river not far from Kipoi. From here, we zigzag down and climb along circular paths planted with wild sage and rosemary, with only a single cowbell to be heard from the distant valley. After a picnic of spinach pie and oranges beside the towering semicircular bridge of Noutsos Bridge, a light rain turns to a torrential downpour.
Placidas Bridge. Photo: Rhiannon Batten
We’re soon drenched, but there’s nowhere to find shelter, so we make our way across the flooded Misiu Bridge and up the Vitsa Steps, a 300-year-old staircase that leads, Andy Goldsworthy-style, up the steep hillside ahead. Even the usually cheerful Ossian begins to tire as we pass bear signs and thunder rumbles overhead. Thankfully, it’s not far to Vitsa village, where we’re greeted at the chic Struga Café with sticky honey and a slice of orange cake and an offer to hail a taxi.
We enjoy exploring the valley, with the scent of sage wafting from under our feet and wild cyclamens lining the path.
In nearby Monodendri, we checked into Hotel Vikos (double rooms from €80). The next morning, refueled with pancakes made by owner Dimitris, we set off for Vikos Gorge. The deepest canyon in the world relative to its width, this dramatic rock cleft is what drew us to Zagori. We plummet for 45 minutes and feel like we’re in the underworld, but in reality we’re shrouded in thick mist.
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For the next 90 minutes, we climb, descend, clamber over rocks, and keep our eyes on the trail along a via ferrata section. About halfway through, the path levels out and, apart from a final 45-minute climb, the remaining six-hour route is an easy stroll. We meet only a handful of other hikers. With the scent of sage wafting from our feet and wild cyclamens blooming along the path like little cheerleaders, the valley is ours. By lunchtime the mist has cleared to reveal the massive canyon walls.
“This is incredible,” Ossian shouts into the vast echo chamber as we lie like ants on a rock face and the mountains known as the Towers of Astraka tower 1,000 metres above us.
“Carved by the Elves”: The single-arch Nuutsos Bridge in Zagori. Photo: Charalambos Andronos/Getty Images
At the end of the trail we climbed up to the hamlet of Vikos, savored wild boar stew and stayed the night in the pretty, geranium-dotted Vikos View Hotel (from €76 for a double room). The bed was so comfortable and the breakfast so sumptuous that we set off later than planned, returning to the trail just as the sun was heating up.
Our final day’s walk is just a short straight line to neighbouring Megaro Papingo, but the path leads back into the valley and up the other side, and it’s sweltering hot during the day. We intended to stop at the base to take a dip in the Voidmatis spring, but we take a wrong turn and waste an hour in the heat, finally reaching the turquoise pool, where we take off our boots and dip our feet in the icy water. It’s a magical place, with a little chapel next to the spring and a grassy area perfect for a picnic. But we can see the climb is about to begin and we’re uneasy about lingering at this late hour. Reluctantly, we start the climb.
Breakfast with a view on the terrace at Papa Evangelou Hotel. Photo: Rhiannon Batten
We walked uphill for over two hours, sometimes through forest, sometimes over sheer rock. At one point the path crossed scree and the incline was so steep that my legs began to shake. Undaunted by dizziness, Ossian strode along, enjoying the reversal of events with me following behind. I followed his directions, kept my eyes on his back, tried to laugh at the jokes he told to distract me. It was like a glimpse into the future, and I felt proud of Ossian’s kindness and courage. I realized how precious our time together was, and I hope he remembers it.
As we arrive at Megaro Papingo, the trees shower us with saffron leaves, signaling the end of a magical journey. At our hotel, Papa Evangelou (double rooms from 137 euros), owner Giorgio upgraded us to a room with a view of the Astraka Tower. The next morning, as the sun rose, we sat on the terrace and savored a fantastic breakfast and a magnificent panorama. How far we had come, in many ways.
Train travel from London to Paris is offered by Eurostar and starts from £78 return. Trains from Paris to Brindisi via Switzerland cost £80 one way, and from Brindisi to Turin cost from £70 one way, both can be booked with Trainline. Ferries from Brindisi to Igoumenitsa cost from £34 one way and can be booked with Direct Ferries. Buses from Turin to Paris cost from £29 one way and can be booked with Flixbus.
