Walking with gods in the Greek Peloponnese

Arcadia. The name conjures images of goat-hoofed god Pan playing ditties on a reed flute to shepherds and nymphs in a bucolic wilderness. So it’s a surprise to discover that Arcadia is a real place, located in Greece’s Peloponnese. On previous visits I’d been too busy rushing to the ancient sites around its fringes, such as Olympia and Mycenae, to explore its rugged mountainous heart. Now, with the chance to experience this Paradise Lost, I couldn’t refuse.

I’m in Langadia, preparing to trek through Arcadia’s Menalon massif. The stonemasons who built this village were renowned as the region’s best – they had to be to tame these impossibly steep hillsides. Just living here keeps you fit. And even in death you can’t escape the climbing – the cemetery straddles four tiers.

As the coaches roar off to Olympia, I ascend a signposted trail into pastures studded with ancient stone threshing floors and golden grasses. A shepherd hurries past with a flock of sheep with clinking bells. I’m on the 75km Menalon Trail, arguably Greece’s best-known long-distance footpath.

I visit in late October, keen to eke out summer as Blighty plunges into darkness. The twenty-something degree temperatures are perfect for walking, the tree colours spectacular. Spring is glorious too, mind you, with the bonus of wild flowers and longer days. The walking is moderately easy – it’s hill walking not mountaineering – although be prepared for plenty of quad-stretching climbs as you switch from valley to valley.

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In Valtesiniko, the second of six mountain villages I stay in, and predictably precipitous, I descend to the square where a click-clacking draws my eye to an open balcony. It’s the walnut harvest and two elderly women in black perch on a sofa, one smashing nuts with a hammer, the other winkling them out with a knife. I join them, and am offered tea – which in rural Greece means mountain herbs, mainly sage.

We chat, but when I reveal I’m walking alone, shelling stops and the women stare in disbelief. “Where’s your husband?” asks one. When I break the news that there isn’t one, her jaw drops further. She swiftly changes topic. “It’s no coincidence walnuts look like brains. They’re excellent for brain power. Here, try some.”