Around Areopoli the Mani stops being a pleasant coastal road and starts to look like what it is: a rugged spur of limestone pushing south into the Mediterranean, with the high ridge of Taygetus behind and a dry, stony landscape in front. The soil is thin, the stone walls run in every direction, and the villages are clusters of grey towers that look more like a fortress than a home. Gytheio, the nearest sizeable town on the Laconian side, lies about nineteen kilometres away.
The Maniots have a reputation, and it has mostly been earned. For centuries they were a society of clans, each with its own tower house, who resisted Ottoman rule and fought each other with enthusiasm. Areopoli itself is named for Ares, the god of war, which tells you something. It was here, on 17 March in the old calendar, in 1821, that Petrobey Mavromichalis raised the banner of revolt, and the town square has the statue to prove it. The old quarter has narrow stone lanes, towers with tiny windows and a number of Byzantine churches decorated with frescoes, usually kept locked but sometimes opened by a caretaker if you ask politely.
Very close by are the Diros caves, a long system of underground passages with lakes and stalactites that you tour by boat. They are well worth the detour, especially on a hot afternoon when the cool damp of the cave feels like a gift. The surrounding coast is rocky and wild, with a few tiny harbours below the road, and the sea is a deep, startling blue.
The roads here are the kind a rider enjoys: relatively quiet, undulating, with a medley of sweeping bends and short climbs, and a surface that is usually decent though sometimes patched. In summer the sun is fierce and the wind can blow hard across the exposed ridges, so carry water and wear a proper layer. Gytheio is the safe bet for fuel and shops, and Areopoli lies on your route with cafés and a plain, honest feeling that suits a day in the saddle.