WORDS RICH ROTHWELL PHOTOGRAPHY SINGLETRACK
The morning was getting hotter. I’d set off before dawn from the coast to gain as much height as possible before the Greek sun became too vicious. My legs were scratched from the sharp grasses and thorns that carpeted the dry scree slopes. I was playing my favourite holiday game. Visit a Greek island and find the highest points on the map (Greece seems to specialise in steep, rocky mountains that rear improbably out of the sparkling blue sea). Keep assaulting the peak until I find a way up through the mazes of crumbling olive groves, scree slopes, and in this case, scrubby plants and ancient gnarled trees.