The end of the line is a place with the name Taenaron, or Matapan in the older sea charts, the southernmost tip of mainland Greece. Few places in Europe feel so much like the edge of something. The land narrows to a spine of rock, scrub and wind, the sea opens to the south, and on a clear day the horizon seems to curve. There are no towns in range, only a handful of tiny settlements, so treat it as a place to reach prepared and unhurried.
In ancient times this was a sacred place. A temple to Poseidon stood near the cape, and there was a cave here that the Greeks believed was an entrance to the underworld, the place where Heracles was said to have dragged the hound Cerberus up into the light. Whether or not you believe that, the cave and the ruins exist and the mood is oddly fitting: bare rock, a restless sea and the feeling of being at a boundary. A lighthouse stands at the far end of the cape, reached on foot, and the walk across the rocky headland takes a bit of time, so wear proper footwear rather than riding boots with slick soles.
The ride toward the cape follows a road that gets quieter and narrower the further south it goes. The surface can be broken, with sand and gravel on the bends, and the wind can be strong enough to nudge a bike sideways on the exposed ridges. That is not a reason to avoid it, only to keep the speed down and to enjoy the sense of remoteness. Little coves along the way have clear, deep water, and the small harbour of Porto Kagio, with its tavernas on the shore, is a fine place to have lunch and look at the bay.
Plan your timing carefully. In summer the heat is severe by noon and there is almost no shade, so go early. Spring brings wildflowers and green slopes, and the light in October is gentle and golden. Fill the tank and your water bottles before you leave the larger towns of the Mani, and allow time for the walk, the view and the quiet before you turn back north.