Nudging Where the Wild Things Are into second place, The Rough Guide to Greece (2008 edition) is likely my most-read book, its pages either falling out, dense in highlighter pen or soiled with tzatziki-stained fingerprints.

I could quote passages verbatim as a party trick (so far unrequested).

Despite this minor obsession, until this year, I’d never ventured to Greece, much less cycled there, possibly put off by this quote from the slender cycling section: ‘Many Greek drivers consider cyclists a lower form of life, on a par with the snakes regularly found run over’.

Having stalked Greece from 2,000 miles away in the UK, an email from Chris Ward, the founder of Breakaway Greece cycling holidays in the Peloponnese, arrived in my inbox, with an offer to stay at his Villa Rosa.

A £70, four-hour flight from Bristol later and I’m driving with resident snapper Joe at 2am under a moonless sky to the Peloponnese from Athens International airport, having broken the BBC adventurer Simon Reeve’s rule of never arriving at a new destination in the darkness.

A sharp left at the Corinth Canal takes us into the Argolis region and, not that we can see beyond our headlights, coastal hills and hairpins become the focus of the drive.

We eventually locate Villa Rosa in the foothills above Epidavros, the final stretch a short 21 per cent driveway where the smell of our hire car’s crispy clutch lingers for days.

Come together

Chris is waiting for us with a pack of cold Mythos beers, and bowls of superior sesame-seed coated breadsticks and fresh tzatziki.

We soon discover Chris is one of life’s great doers, although he wears it lightly.

He’s worked behind the scenes on (deep breath) Comic Relief, Children in Need, Nelson Mandela Day and the FIFA World Cup in South Africa; has managed rock bands; penned three books and had four kids.

He’s deep in production on a documentary about jazz music’s influence on rock for BBC Radio when we arrive for our Greek initiation.

He’s also a West Ham United fanatic who’s just welcomed two Tottenham Hotspur supporters into his abode, but you can’t have everything.

As for cycling? Chris has previously represented GB as a top amateur rider, broken cycling records and ridden around Nepal, China, Taiwan, Australia, Bangladesh and India. But it’s the Peloponnese in Greece that’s the one place he’s deemed worthy of stopping long-term.

“Having ridden around most of the world, I came across a cycling paradise and persuaded my wife we should buy a place here and start cycling holidays in the Peloponnese so others could enjoy it, too,” Chris explains as we eye up the final breadstick.

“It’s still like the Greek islands of our youth – quiet, cheap and sunny – and the cycling offers tough yet amazing climbs and beautiful coastal roads, which lead to famous Greek islands or plenty of the sites from Ancient Greece.”

Curtain raiser

Simon Reeve’s rule of darkness may have merit, but day two starts with peeling open the curtains to reveal a view so good that I dribble my thick Greek coffee on my white cycling shoes with the mist-covered isles of the Saronic Gulf and the distant Greek capital of Athens and its Acropolis looking on.

After a breakfast of local honey, yoghurt of the Greek variety and fresh bread – complete with the epic jazz-influenced rock of Spiritualized on the record player – our ride begins in earnest at the nearby Little Theatre of Ancient Epidaurus, a 2,000-capacity arena on the shores of the Saronic Gulf.

Dedicated to Dionysus, the ancient Greek god of theatre, wine and revelry (a good god to know), construction of the theatre began in the mid-4th century BC before it fell into disuse 700 years later.

It remained buried under layers of earth for 18 centuries. The temple was rediscovered by some pigs snuffling in the soil in the 1970s and evacuations have taken place ever since.

The Little Theatre is a remarkable spot, but such is the wealth of attractions and links to the Greek legends in the Peloponnese that there’s little fanfare around the theatre bar some faded signage.

This low-key promotion also applies to the underwater city also in Epidavros and the nearby Mycenaean Bridge of Arkadiko, said to be the world’s oldest bridge.

The sight of a historical relic ensures the Indiana Jones theme pops into my head for the first, but by no means last, time on the trip.

Onto the first crest of the day, however, and it’s clear that neither the years nor the mileage have slowed down our guide Chris, who’s about to turn 60.

His lean frame and Hercules-esque calves have myself and snapper Joe, both nearly 20 years younger, clinging to his streamlined shadow.

I try to blame the three hours of sleep, but I’m fooling no one. Flanked by fig, olive, orange and lemon groves, a 10km-long climb that peaks at 6 per cent takes us to Lygourio, where thick black coffee and Greek pastries await at the local taverna.

Chris is a familiar face to the locals from his regular group rides in the eastern Argolis, a place where everybody seemingly knows his name.

While Chris isn’t alone in promoting the region – the sell-out L’Etape Greece made its debut in Olympia in the Peloponnese in 2023 – his passion for a nation regularly overlooked in favour of Italian and Spanish cycling excursions is infectious.

This is a man who has addressed the United Nations, after all.

Untapped potential

Pistachio-filled pastries devoured, the route winds into the Ancient Theatre of Epidavros (confusingly also known as Epidaurus), one of Greece’s major historical locations and a World Heritage Site.

The complex, founded in the 4th Century BC, offers an ancient sanctuary (dedicated to Asklepios, the god of healing and the son of Apollo), a temple, gymnasium, stadium and the remains of Greek baths.

Yet it’s the 14,000-seat arena, regarded as the best-preserved ancient theatre in Greece, that’s the real showstopper.

The backdrop and acoustics regularly attract Hollywood stars to its summer festival, the latter so meticulously crafted that you can hear a valve cap being dropped on the stage from the 54th tier.

It’s a remarkable sight that warrants much more than the hour we give it but, distracted by temples and tavernas, we’ve only travelled 20 out of our planned 75km in three hours. It’s time to clip in and start pleasing Taranis, the god of wheels.

As predicted by the Rough Guide to Greece, we spot a solitary dead snake on the asphalt, but the drivers we encounter are respectful and full of friendly beeps to alert us to their presence.

Not that we encounter many motorists on the roads of the eastern Argolis.

Excluding a pair of Dutch bikepackers on recumbents we spot camping in the wild, we rarely meet cyclists either, which heightens the feeling that we’re experiencing an untapped cycling playground of smooth open roads mixed with the authentic culture of Greece.

“Bikepackers have recently discovered the Peloponnese and the fact the region only accounts for 2 per cent of all Greek tourism,” adds Chris.

“The cycling in the Peloponnese is as hard as you want it to be – around 80km and 1,000m of climbing is a regular day for my groups – and the number of cyclists coming here is growing fast.”

The promise of a dip in the sea and a litre of wine at the end of the day also adds to the allure.

“While admittedly there isn’t a history of successful pro Greek racers, both Wout van Aert and Mark Cavendish are on our local Strava top 10s because it provides the perfect roads and climbs for building fitness.”

Oil Association

A network of gravel tracks extends in every direction (Chris also hosts off-road rides) but, after a winter of riding on battered British blacktops in the wet, today is about reacquainting with smooth European asphalt, short sleeves and sunshine (high temperatures in early May hover around 25°C).

Another challenging but not too challenging climb follows out of Epidavros, before a sweeping 12km descent through the Lygourio valley adds our first experience of Greek speed to today’s mix.

Our newfound haste is due to a lunch date at the Bekas olive oil mill with the owners.

On the menu is extra virgin oil, olives, tomatoes, bread and dried oregano.

And nothing else. Yet the simplicity is glorious, a glowing endorsement for eating from the field to the plate.

With our monounsaturated fatty acid levels topped up until Christmas, we depart with heavy hearts and greasy fingers, ready for another extended climb on this relentlessly rolling route.

Again, the 12km length offers little over 10 per cent, but the 750m of elevation gain over 20km is a sign of the hilliness.

Cars are outnumbered by goats, with our newfound oil-powered prowess only slowed by an elderly woman in Eleni stopping to give us each a rose flower for our jersey pockets on the way home.

Egos fluffed, we return to the sight of the glittering islands of the Saronic Gulf via a series of high-speed switchbacks.

The towering and still active Methana Volcano (another of Chris’ regular riding haunts, which thankfully hasn’t erupted since 1700) stands in front of us, so we take a sharp left onto the coastal road and spin home to Epidavros.