But that morning, Dimitri and I headed to the village of Vikos, for a strenuous 45-minute walk (including frequent stops to admire the scenery) up 500-year-old stone steps to the spring of the Voidomatis. .
We had the valley to ourselves as we descended through a thick forest of moss-covered beeches, junipers and oaks, the sun gradually burning off the mountain mist to reveal pointillist touches of red, gold and green autumnal. At the bottom, we found a small church, by the clearest turquoise waters.
“It’s the cleanest river in all of Europe,” Dimitri informed me, as I hesitated to drink from the spring. The water was ice cold – and delicious; total silence, but for the sounds of nature.
It turns out that Balkan trout enjoy what is not only the cleanest, but also the coldest river in Greece. I took lessons in the intricacies of fly fishing from Pantazis Toufidis, endlessly patient as I deftly snagged nests in the surrounding trees, but few in the specified feature. Later, I was rafting upriver with Christos, a gaunt, El Greco-looking river guide. A golden eagle soared overhead as we crossed rocks and fallen plane trees, rounded bends, crossed deep, clear pools, and emerged between the walls of Voidomatis Canyon. Only Christos’ expertly barked instructions prevented a Greek baptism as we plunged into a dam near the end of an exhilarating journey.
