In recent years I do not even remember how many times I traveled around the Peloponnese for the needs of my job, but I remember every moment of the trip we made there with my daughter Ioanna when she was still a student, in October 2012.
My travels were constant throughout her adolescence and then I dreamed of the moment we would take a trip together to get to know the places, works and people that filled my life while I was away from her.
Our first trip was all we missed.First stop in Nafplio, where we spent several hours in the creative intensity of the construction site of a wonderful listed building. Its restoration work was progressing rapidly in order to transform it into one of the most elegant small hotels in the city (Grand Sarai Nafplio).
The end of the day found us in the impressive rock of Monemvasia. There all the next day we watched the works in Myrtiotissa and visited the stone-built Lighthouse at the edge of the rock.
With the first light of day we started for the most beautiful route of our country. The winding road that connects Gythio with Kalamata, flows between wild mountains and a silver sea.
In a day full of conversations, music and stops in the scattered works all the way (Limeni, Kardamili, Kastania) we crossed the Laconian and Messinian Mani.Kalamata was waiting for us as always. My father ‘s birthplace, full of relatives, friends and flavors of childhood memories.
Two days weren’t enough for meetings in the works of the district. Ancient Messini, Andromonastiro, Vulcan Monastery, Holy Temple of the Savior in Pylos. Leaving Messinia behind, and after the necessary stop in Ancient Olympia, we spent our last night in Patra. We spent the night and shared with dear friends everything we experienced the previous days.
After the morning meetings of the last day of our trip, we left the Peloponnese behind us and drove up to our house. The 7 days we were on the road had passed like a breath. Somewhere after Ioannina, when the fatigue was so great that we had no energy to talk to each other, my daughter told me that now she felt and understood everything I was trying to enthusiastically convey to her on each of my returns. She understood the hard work and anguish of the people behind every restoration.
After this first trip, many more followed, all of them important, each for its own reason but all of them valuable for every moment we spent together.