Here are the available villas for rental in Greece.

A Greek oddity by bike

From the Mail on Sunday

Although Greece is one of our most popular holiday destinations, it seems barely anyone - let alone on a bicycle at the age of 67 - has been to Thrace. Indeed, where is it? And why do so few people venture there? I wondered.
The only thing to do was to take my bike and investigate this north-eastern region of Greece, bordered by Bulgaria and Turkey. Flying to Thessaloniki, I rode to the railway station, where I bought a first-class ticket to travel overnight to Pithion, on the Turkish border. They seized my bicycle and promised to put it on the train.
The train jiggles along. People get on and off, talking loudly regardless of those trying to sleep. Then you suddenly wake, and you're nearly there. Shortly before Pithion a nice old couple sitting near me began pointing with some excitement at a bridge. The land on the other side was Turkey and they made it seem as if we were looking across the Iron Curtain.
By the time I reached the platform someone had taken my bike off the train - and I set off on the 300-mile journey back to Thessaloniki, in easy stages over a fortnight.
I then became aware of one of three excellent reasons for going to Thrace - the cycling is superb. The gently rolling, empty road followed the Evros river. To the left was Turkey, to the right the Rhodope mountain range. Beside the road were cornfields, sunflowers, melons and vines.
At Dhidhimotikon I found Byzantine remains and a church in which a priest was intoning before a congregation of two women. Then a man with very shiny shoes came in, lit a candle and went behind the screen to have a chat with the priest. Intriguingly, I saw the man outside later with a handful of lottery tickets.
Some 19 miles on I came to Soufli, where I toured wetlands through plantations of every kind of vegetable to the banks of the river Evros. The river is so beautiful that I photographed it, although photography is forbidden and should only be done by Turkish spies.
I also met a heron, which brings me to the second reason for visiting Thrace. I am not a twitcher, but Thrace is a twitcher's paradise. I discovered too late that at nearby Dadia there is a nature reserve with 26 of the 39 known species of birds of prey. Birdwatching comes further into its own at Porto Lagos, where Lake Vistonis is said to shelter 200,000 birds. ... more

Idyllic Symi

From the Daily Mail

Too noisy, sighed our British neighbour as we headed for the beach on the bus. The elderly Greek who had asked how she liked his island, Symi, looked taken aback. 'All that birdsong,' she complained, 'and donkeys, cats, roosters. I didn't get a wink of sleep.'
My friend Helena and I thought back to the sounds that had made waking up that morning - in one of the prettiest towns of the Dodecanese - such a soothing experience. Doves, church bells, footsteps on worn medieval steps, voices calling out in greeting. They added up to the sort of peace and quiet I had come to the Aegean to find.
There had been gasps from every newcomer on board as the ferry from Rhodes rounded a steep headland into the bay. Symi looked all set to stage an opera. Tiers of dignified, pastel-coloured houses circled the harbour, lapping up the sides of a pine-clad hill. Their classical proportions reflected a 19th-century heyday when Symi queened it over the sponge-diving industry.
In return for supplying sponges to the Ottoman court, Symi enjoyed trading privileges that brought the island serious wealth. Long since sponged out - though souvenir shops peddle imposters from all over the Mediterranean and Far East - Symi has gained a new lease of life thanks to tourism. Three cheers for the strict local planning regulations which have kept numbers down, preserving the exquisite townscape.
I would have confidently challenged the woman on the bus to find a single fault with our villa, a converted three-storey house, its various split levels furnished with chic simplicity. Sitting outside enjoying local yoghurt and honey for breakfast, the day stretched ahead, filled, enticingly, with the possibility of doing very little. Should we walk over the thyme-scented headland and flop into the sea at Nimporios? Or pick up a water taxi and head for a more secluded beach? On an island refreshingly short of mechanical noises, there were always ways of getting around. ... more

The view from the ramparts

in the shade of a mulberry tree, ripe red berries dropping into our breakfast of Greek yogurt and honey, we gazed out across a sparkling Aegean to the island of Alonissos, its rocky peaks dominating the horizon.
Closer to hand, verdant mountains dropped sheer to the sea and waves crashed against dazzling white cliffs far below.
This was the stunning view from our holiday home, Pyrgos, a small castle on a remote headland on the isle of Skopelos.
The stone watchtower, with its crenellated ramparts and stained glass windows, looks timeless, standing in isolation on the tip of a promontory at the end of a rutted track snaking round the hillside.
In fact, it's just 10 years old, built by local artists Spiros and Vassiliki Kosmas who let it out until they are ready to retire there.
Vassiliki has decorated the main ceiling with figures from Greek mythology and created cave-style paintings on the walls of our bedroom, hewn out of the hillside.
She had just finished painting dolphins on the bottom of the beautiful pool near the cliff edge while around the grounds Spiros had created strange sculptures from rock, metal and brick.
A scramble down the cliff path brought us to our own private swimming area where we could dive off the rocks and sunbathe on the huge flat boulders. It was difficult to drag ourselves away to explore the island but it was worth the effort.
With no airport, Skopelos is largely untouched by tourism. Its mountainous interior is covered in pine forests and olive groves.
Along the coast are sheltered bays, deep gorges and sleepy fishing villages.
There are a few asphalt roads and dirt tracks which zigzag across the island. We could drive miles without seeing another car, the only hold-ups caused by herds of goats. ... more

Orchid Odyssey

From the Daily Mail

We were walking above the picturesque town of Lindos, enjoying the heavenly scent of thyme crushed underfoot and the sight of pretty pink cistus bathing in the springtime sun, when we encountered our first specimen of orchid hunter.
They are often to be found singularly, with a camera slung around their neck, wandering around in circles. With a schoolmasterly air and a shock of grey hair, this one was expressing some disillusion.
'I should have gone to Crete,' said Richard, pointing out not an orchid but a red dragonarum, an insect-eating plant that smells disconcertingly of old meat. 'I've seen a few uninspiring specimens so far, but nothing striking,' he added, before scrambling over the rocks towards the narrow, cobbled streets below.
Doubtless the heavy spring rain had much to do with his temporary lack of enthusiasm, but I was intrigued by the idea of searching for wild orchids. In Rhodes, these wonderful, varied plants thrive on the baking summer heat, which ripens the tubers, and the spring rain that encourages flowering. Consequently, the blooms are large and spectacular.
My wife Kari-Ann and I were staying for two weeks at a friend's house, tucked into the hill beside an ancient amphitheatre. On our first night, I had stood on the roof and watched in wonder as the moon, drifting between fluffy clouds, shone over St Paul's Bay and covered the whitewashed town in a milky film. There was no distant drone of cars; only the breeze and the occasional heehaw of donkeys on the hill broke the silence.
Next day I watched the tourists wandering aimlessly through the town's alleyways picking at trinkets and gaudy pottery like so many hens, and began planning an escape into the hills. ... more

In the footsteps of the Knights

Walking round Rhodes Old Town is like being on a film set - except it's real.
There's so much history here. The castle (officially Palace of the Grand Masters) is really impressive - the children were overawed. In medieval times the Knights of St John lived here in the walled part of town and you can visit their quarters and see where they cared for the sick.
The only thing that spoils the town is the pressure from shop owners to buy, buy, buy - they practically dragged us in and we got a bit fed up with it at times. Away from the main streets, though, are some pretty squares with lovely old buildings where you can just sit and watch the world go by.
We'd heard Lindos was very picturesque and we weren't disappointed, although we were exhausted after climbing up the hot, narrow winding streets to the top of the town and the temple to Athena. You can take a donkey ride up, but the poor animals looked more worn out than we did, so we walked.
All the way up to the top are pretty, white-painted houses, many very old, with lots of interesting alleyways to explore. Back down at the bottom we flopped on the beach and enjoyed the view of the bay, looking up at the rock we'd just climbed - a very good day out. ... more