AFTER a couple of days in bustling Athens, my wife and I rented a car and headed out to find the "real" Greece.
We investigated the spectacular ruins at Delphi; we experienced ancient Mycenae and the famous Lion Gate; we listened to the perfect acoustics at the ancient amphitheater at Epidaurus. While driving, we got lost and happened upon two huge meteor craters created in the 19th century near the Peloponnesian town of Didama. This was real adventure.
Yet we felt there must be something more than ruins, museums, and meteors. We had seen and talked to a lot of Greeks, but most were English-speakers whose job it was to cater to tourists. There must be an everyday Greece out there, the "soul" of Greece.
We spent a day visiting the beautiful Byzantine ruin at Mystra high above the city of Sparta, inland on the Peloponnese Peninsula. It was the off-season, drizzly and cold. We wanted to spend the night somewhere on the coast where the weather would be warmer. But we came to the Gulf of Messinia only to find that the hotels in the small towns were still closed.
As dusk approached, the scenery grew more and more striking: Dramatic vistas of ocean and mountain stretched away on either side of us. But with no place to stay, we faced the prospect of going all the way to Kalamata, the next large city, where we would surely find a hotel. That meant we would pass through this scenic part of Greece at night.
In a last-ditch effort to find lodging, we turned off the main road toward what showed on our map as a small zero with no dot in the middle: Nikolaos. But, as in the other towns, …