Crossing the central mountains of the Messini peninsula is moderately hair-raisng with shear drops which you have to get precariously close to when meeting on-coming traffic.
The beaches on the west coast are better than those on the east although they are more touristy with predominantly German visitors.
The Bourtzi or tower, reached by a little bridge, is very Turkish in style while on the battlements there are crumbling emblems depicting the Venetian winged lion of St. Mark. The shallow water of the bay was very warm but something about the place made me not want to linger.
Set in a baking hot dip surrounded by olive tree covered hillsides, this 300BC city was never built upon so its layout is slowly being uncovered & visitors can stroll around unimpeded.
Even though it was early October the sun beat down mercilessly & there was no shade; crickets & cicadas were happy enough with the heat, a herby fragrance hung in the air & tantalising underground water gushed underneath the amphitheatre of the stadium.