September 13: Tsagarada–Damouchari
7.2 km; 137 m (-586) ascent;
Waking stiff and sore is normal for multi-day hikes, but knowing that it’s to be expected doesn’t make hobbling down extra-large stairs any easier!
We ate our breakfast in the courtyard, attended by the Lost Unicorn’s several cats and dogs.
After another visit to the 1000-year-old plane tree, we were off to Damouchari (pronounced “dah-moo-HA-ree).
This was meant to be an easy hike, short and downhill, and we intended to make it even shorter by skipping the visit to Fakistra beach!).
On the other hand, Anastasia back in Milies had mentioned that the walk down to the beach at Damouchari was so steep it left her legs shaking like sewing machine needles.
Which sounded ominous.
The first bit of trail out of Tsagarada in fact easy. We quickly found a fountain where we could refill our water that was pleasantly unnecessary, since we’d been hiking for about ten minutes.
We emerged from forest to see a glorious view of the Aegean with the Sporades to the south.
Then it was time to descend. And the trail was … steep. Relentlessly steep.
A side note on shoes: I wore my Lems Primals for the Pelion hike, partly on the thinking that this would be the easiest underfoot terrain. I loved their flexibility and lightness. Primals don’t offer great protection from rocks and their traction isn’t the best, which is why I switched to Altra Lone Peaks for the other hikes, but they did fine for most of this hike. I quite liked them for this descent, in fact.
Chris wore Lone Peaks throughout. They’ve been his hiking shoe of choice for years and hundreds of miles through the Alps, Greece, and the Carolinas. Neither one of us will ever go back to stiff hiking boots with narrow toes.
We reached sea level at midday. We sat at the seaside bar to read and work until our rooms at the Hotel Damouchari were ready. (One reason we skipped the walk to Fakistra was that keeping up with work and blogs requires a fair amount of downtime. Shortening an occasional hike is a good way to maintain sanity.)
Damouchari is tiny. As in about 41 residents, which makes it extra-tiny in a region of tiny villages. But it’s outrageously pretty, with not one but two protected bays and crystal blue, warm water. The vibe is chill. Aside from the wifi, our room could’ve been unchanged since the sixties, down to the balcony shared among all the rooms and secured with shuttered door panels. This is a trusting place.
The hotel is a family business. Dad manned the stove at dinner. The “menu” consisted of us walking into the kitchen to pick what we wanted out of several simmering pots.
