It was one of those inebriated Sunday mornings after a heavy drinking session when I distinctly remember the spirit of Zeus coming over first thing in the morning: "You are that lunatic who likes climbing, right? Come to my Throne for a drink of ouzo".

Well, it wasn’t quite like that as you could probably imagine, but the desire to climb Olympus and Mitikas was always there. The mission was planned, discussed, dropped, reconsidered, delayed, then put in circulation again, then suffered one final blow about 24 hours before departure as we discovered we didn’t have a vehicle – or rather, we had one, but with old papers that could prevent it crossing the border.

Mission Olympus was dead before it even started – we’d go shopping, stock the car with groceries and alcohol and head east towards the Bulgarian Black Sea instead. And the very thought of that turned my stomach. I hadn’t been to the Black Sea since 1994 and I have vowed never to lay a foot there again, and suddenly here we were, headed there. It was at that moment that Mira and I looked at each other: "Listen, what do you say, we give Olympus a try? We’ll drive to the border, if they turn us back, then we can always go to the Black Sea?" With that the decision was taken instantly and we were headed south to the Koulata.

Border business
Arriving at the Koulata, we crossed our fingers – it was crunch time. The plan was that if we were forbidden to leave the country, we’d drive to Plovdiv, spend the night there and head for the sea the following morning. Our car approached the checkpoint and the officer greeted us politely. He took our identity cards, smiled and waved us through. As we reached the Greek barrier, the policeman hardly even glanced at our ID cards, motioning to us that we should proceed and leave him well alone. Before we knew it, we were cruising down the E79 to Thessaloniki, sporting a mile-wide grin on our faces – Olympus, here we come! The business at the border had taken 15 minutes flat. It was 6.20pm, there was a two-hour trip to Thessaloniki and we agreed we would park the car somewhere by the White Tower, get our hands on a sufficient amount of alcohol, and get blitzed along the seafront. Entering Thessaloniki, its oriental beauty immediately immersed us, that unmistakable architecture which I have seen all over Greece, in Damascus, Syria and Amman in Jordan.

We parked on Leoforos Vassileos Georgio, just behind the statue of the mounted Alexander the Great, locked the car, got a large bottle of gin out, bought beer and tonic from the periptero (kiosk) and got down to serious business. We tabbed across the centre of town, Leofiros Nikis, embarked on the Mitropoleos square and Odos Aristotelous, and we soaked up the atmosphere of night-time Thessaloniki. Thousands of young people, women dressed to kill with a kilo of make-up and lads sporting more gel in their hair than an 80s glam rock band put together. We would do the constitutional sightseeing and photography tour the following morning and get a taste of the sights and sounds of Thessaloniki. Then we’d proceed to Litochoro (the city of the Gods) sometime in the afternoon and sort ourselves out up the mountain from there. But first things first – tonight we would let rip in the city.

Litochoro is an 82km drive from Thessaloniki on the Ethinki Odos (national road). Just four km from the sea, Litochoro has that universal beauty – it really is the city of the Gods – I mean, how spoiled can you get? It’s both a summer sea destination and an "alpine" town. All routes up the mountain lead from Litochoro, but glance around your shoulder and you see the sea gently sparkling in the sun. Glance to the other side and you see the towering summit of Mitikas at 2917m, flanked by Skolio at 2911m and Stefani at 2909m.

Zlatni Piassutsi? You’re having a laugh! From Litochoro, the mountain road swerves up to Prionia, about 18km up the mountain at an elevation of 1100m. This is where you ditch the car, take your Bergen and head up the E4 path to Refuge A (Spilios Agapitos), a lodge at 2100m and about three hours’ climbing. Nothing dramatic on the first leg of the climb to Refuge A, lush vegetation not too dissimilar to the sort of forests you would encounter in Pirin.