Turtles, Caves and Just One Cornetto – A Whistle Stop Tour of North Kefalonia

I must admit that choosing where to stay on Kefalonia was initially a bit of a head-scratcher. Being the largest Ionian island and the 6th largest island in Greece overall, there’s a lot of ground to cover. We chose Argostoli, the island’s capital, purely for logistical reasons. Not only is the main bus station located there, but many of the island’s tours also depart from the town. We only had six nights on Kefalonia — five in Argostoli and one in Sami — so I viewed this trip more as a reconnaissance mission for future visits rather than a full exploration.

In early May, the first of the seasonal flights had arrived on the island, yet the bus service remained in partial hibernation. I remain steadfast in my mission to prove that not only is it possible to travel in Greece on a budget, but that you can also see a surprising amount (usually!) using public transport.

Over the years, I have formed a real affection for the quirky Greek bus system. Trying to navigate the KTEL websites for the individual municipalities remains frustrating, but the bus services themselves (once you’ve uncovered the elusive and all-important timetable) have always been reliable. On several occasions, it has also resulted in a bit of an adventure!

When using a local bus service, it’s important to understand that the transport system’s main role is to primarily serve the schools and residents. Sometimes you’ll hit the jackpot and stumble across a bus service that will get you to various beaches (and not depart at some god-awful time in the morning). Occasionally, you’ll have to have your wits about you, and at the very least, it pays to understand the Greek alphabet. However, there is nothing like the thrill of taking a leap of faith into the relative unknown. There’s always the risk that you’ll end up in a destination that you hadn’t planned, but sometimes this can lead to some interesting encounters along the way! More than anything, the opportunity to connect with other people is most special.

I digress. Given our limited time, we decided to go full-on ‘package tourist’ and book ourselves onto an island tour. Hopefully, this would give us a flavour of what Kefalonia has to offer beyond Argostoli.

The morning of the trip came around quickly, and we made our way to the rendezvous point, passing the fisherman along the harbour’s edge. As they sorted and gutted their catch, they threw morsels to the loggerhead turtles that would periodically surface from the misty turquoise depths.

At the ferry port, a small group had already gathered. They were mostly Brits, representing a full range of dialects from across the UK, with a few Scandinavians and the odd Dutch person there too.

Right on time, a coach arrived, already half-full with tourists that had been picked up along the way. Our guide Eleni introduced herself, giving a brief overview of the itinerary before we set off. We left the town behind, passing around the back of the lagoon and onto the main road toward Sami.

The bus wound its way up the narrow mountain road, carving a path through a stunning landscape cloaked in every imaginable shade of green. Italian cypress trees stood tall among expanses of vineyards and olive groves. Eleni pointed out that the Robola grape, used to produce Kefalonia’s famed dry white wine, is grown widely in this region. In the distance, Mount Ainos, the island’s highest peak, rose majestically into view.

Our first two stops would be Drogarati Cave and Melissani Lake. Entry tickets weren’t included in the tour price, but a small discount was offered if you purchased both together — 13€ for the combo. Eleni gave us a gentle heads-up that Drogarati Cave has around 120 steps, which discouraged a few of the older members of the group. Not this one though! If I can complete the highs and lows of Perama Cave in Ioannina, then I can certainly tackle this one!

We filed off the bus and along to the entrance of the cave, except those who had opted out. They headed for the cafe instead.

The first set of steps leading to the entrance were initially broad and shallow, but as we approached the mouth of the cave, they narrowed, forcing us to walk in single file until we reached a plateau above the main expanse of the cavern. Immediately noticeable was the contrast in temperature from the mid-morning heat outside. For someone who doesn’t like the heat, it was a welcome relief to be in the cave’s constant temperature of 18 degrees. The humidity also hovers at around 90% due to the constant seepage of water through the porous rock. A thin film of moisture covers every surface of the cave, including the ground, however, the steps have been covered in carpet to give a little bit of grip.

The Drogarati Cave is said to be over 150 million years old, and its existence was only discovered about 300 years ago when an earthquake caused the roof to collapse. In a very ‘Aladdin-esque’ way, the rock fell away, revealing the entrance to the cavern. After further explorations and excavations, the cave opened as a visitor attraction in 1963.

From the plateau, another set of steps leads down into the vast chamber, also known as the Concert Hall because of its amazing acoustics. Various musical events have been hosted here in the past. After circling the perimeter of the cavern, another set of steps leads us back up to the mouth of the cave and into the bright sunshine once again.

I’ll be honest, it wasn’t the most impressive cave I’ve visited. Some of the stalactites still appeared to be in their infancy, and there were definitely no hair-raising moments (what I’ve come to expect from a Greek cave!), but nonetheless, it was most definitely worth the visit.

After a brief wait until everyone has gathered back onto the bus, we are now back on the road driving the short distance to our next location, the Melissana Lake – another of Kefalonia’s key tourist sites. Being close to Sami, we had planned to visit the lake when we arrived there for our final night on Kefalonia. Now that has all been taken care of.

Eleni did tell us that there may be a bit of a wait to get onto a boat, but as it is still low season, it wouldn’t be too bad. In summer, apparently, visitors can queue for hours. There’s no Fast Track ticket here! A winding set of narrow stone steps led us down to a long ramp that had been again covered in carpet for safety purposes. Here, we gradually inched our way down towards the boats as others disembarked. The waiting time was about 20 minutes, which wasn’t too bad.

Everyone was assisted onto a small boat that bobbed and weaved until it reached full capacity and was then pushed off into the lake. We floated out into the light-filled chamber where the lake shimmered in hues of turquoise, sapphire and green. About 8 boats were in operation that day, each manned by a boatman who was well-versed in the usual touristic patter. Yes, the first few lines of ‘O Sole Mio’ were sung, followed by a backing chorus of ‘Just One Cornetto’ from our fellow tourists, resulting in chuckles (and a bit of cringe) all round. You’ve got to embrace the experience, whether it’s your cup of tea or not! That aside, this geological wonder is amazing.

Our boatman, a cheeky chappie named Spiros (or so he told us), said that the dark rocks below the surface of the water were in fact the collapsed roof. The blackness of the rockfall underneath us was a stark contrast to the large swathe of iridescent colours, which seemed to illuminate the whole cave. Up above where the roof once was, was an expanse of bright blue sky with the faintest whisper of white cloud. Surrounding what can be described as nature’s skylight is a small forest of pine trees. They appear to dangle their roots towards the water, only able to soak up the humidity of the lake rather than being able to dip their toes into the water itself.

Spiros fed us snippets of information about the cave whilst steering us around the cave. It’s also known as the Cave of Nymphs and legend has it that the nymph Melissana drowned herself here after her affections for the god Pan were spurned. Nothing beats the story of a drowning lady in a lake for impact!

The deepest part of the lake is around 30 metres and is fed by subterranean channels from the other side of the island. I revert back to my very first post of this trip when Peter and I walked to the Argostoli Sinkholes. Geologists, in order to prove that the sinkholes fed into channels on the other side of the island, poured pigment into them and waited to see where the coloured water would appear. After 15 days, the pigment appeared in the Melissani Lake. I find that far more fascinating than stories of unrequited love. But then again, I’m not a romantic!

Before we knew it, our whistle-stop tour around the lake had come to an end, and we were back on the bus heading 9km north to our next destination, the small seaside town of Agia Effimia. The drive took us along large expanses of deserted pebble beaches which backed gently lapping turquoise waters, all caught through the windows of a speeding bus!

The bus parked on the quayside at the end of the horseshoe-shaped harbour. Eleni gave us one hour to explore. Or drink coffee. Whatever. Peter and I followed the harbour around past a string of cafes, tavernas and tourist shops. This quiet village of approximately 400 residents is fully geared up for the onslaught of summer and the associated visitors. Thankfully, that’s not today.

We have our sights set on the Church that gives the village its name. We can see its bell tower sticking up above the buildings along the front so head in that direction. Along the way, we pass a narrow stretch of pebble beach. There is no apparent shade here which wouldn’t be suitable for me. Although I prefer a natural beach with a couple of tamarisk trees for shade, I’d need a lounger and a parasol to be comfortable here for any length of time.

As the row of shops began to peter out, we turn onto the street behind until we arrive at the church. The original church was destroyed during an earthquake in 1953, but was rebuilt in the Ionian style with a separate bell tower. It’s an attractive church with pastel-painted walls and a red-tiled roof. So, who was Agia Effimia (Saint Euphemia)? She was a Christian martyr, born in the late 3rd century in Chalcedon, close to modern-day Istanbul. She was born into a noble Christian family during the time when Emperor Diocletian was launching one of the most brutal persecutions against Christians during Roman history.

She refused to worship pagan gods and was subsequently arrested, tortured and eventually martyred for her faith – reportedly by wild animals in an arena. Several miracles are attributed to her, confirming her as a true protector of the faith. Her name day is celebrated on July 11th when the village comes alive through a traditional panagyri filled with music, dancing and plenty of home-cooked food!

Time here was all too short, and before we knew it, it was time to get back on board the bus to our next destination, the popular Kefalonian resort of Fiskardo, sitting right at the northern tip of the island.

Here we are given a little bit more time to explore and have lunch. Eleni told us that we could visit the Roman Cemetery, though she was scant on the directions. She was also very keen to recommend a taverna called Parnassos and joked that it has been renamed the Parnassians – a play on the word Kardashians, though I’m not sure that’s a positive selling point!

Anyway, not being ones for idling away in cafe bars and watching the world go by, we headed off with the vague notion of finding the Roman Cemetery. After ten minutes or so of fumbling around, we found an information sign for it, but not the cemetery itself. After another ten or fifteen minutes, we’d found ourselves on a road out of the village, so we decided to turn around before we ended up lost. The afternoon heat was beginning to get the better of us, so we walked back to the bustling harbour front.

This northern area of Kefalonia was one of the only parts not to be affected by the 1953 earthquake that devastated southern Kefalonia, Zakynthos and Ithaca. My first impression of Fiskardo is that it reminded me of bigger and busier Longos on Paxos. It wasn’t just the architecture, but a certain je ne sais quoi that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It’s certainly a yachter’s paradise and has more of a Panama hat and floaty white linen vibe, not the other yachting stereotype of baseball cap, upturned poloshirt collar and a sports sunglasses kind of thing (if you know what I mean!). Not that I mean to label people. Like Longos and, to be fair, other parts of Paxos, it had a combination of authentic decay with some sympathetic (and not so sympathetic) homages to the traditional Venetian colours. The golden thread that runs through both of these Ionian destinations is that turquoise – I mean it’s incredible!

We just had enough time to eat. Eleni had recommended the traditional meat pie that the area is famed for. And yes, we did choose the Parnassians to eat as we’d already decided to fully embrace the full-on tourist experience! Peter decided to have Kleftiko, along with a refreshing Greek salad, and we decided to wash it down with the local Robolo wine. Well, we asked for Robolo wine, but what we received was something white but a little bit rough around the edges. Anyway, we persevered with it whilst we waited for the meal, which seemed to take an interminable time to arrive at the table.

Time was ticking, and we tried to keep our eye on Eleni, who was sitting at a table close by. When she leaves, we need to leave. She had been quite strict on the timekeeping, plus I’m habitually early for everything. The meal finally arrived 15 minutes before we were due back onto the bus, just enough time to shovel it down. Not my preferred way to dine! Anyway, the meat pie was very good and by all accounts, so was Peter’s kleftiko. What a shame we didn’t have time to enjoy it properly. Well, that will teach us to go off hunting down Roman cemeteries!

The bus had parked on the road up above the harbour front, leaving us with a set of steps to navigate – always a little more challenging once you’ve consumed some afternoon vino!

The bus continued in an anticlockwise direction down to the west side of the Erisos Peninsula. The final port of call is a brief photo stop above the famous Myrtos Beach. Eleni told us that if we looked carefully, we should catch a fleeting glance of Asos along the way. Of all the places I was hoping to get to on this trip, was Asos. It had been recommended to me by friends. It probably wasn’t going to happen on this trip, but you always need to have some places to discover for next time. Anyway, I did manage to grab a snap of Asos from above, albeit a little blurry with colours faded by the UV-protected bus windows. Yes, next time!

A few minutes later, we arrive at the designated layby where we stop to view Myrtos Beach from above – almost an aerial view. Myrtos is said to be Kefalonia’s best beach, though I guess that’s subjective. For sure, the landscape is stunning, but without experiencing the beach up close or swimming in its waters, my judgment is reserved. It was good to see that the whole beach wasn’t covered with sunbeds. I hope in high season it stays that way.

That brings our Kefalonia Highlights Tour to an end. You’ll find many tours available on Kefalonia by bus and by boat. This was quite the whistle-stop tour but has given me more of an idea of what I’d like to see and do if and when I return to Kefalonia. ❤️