The village of Kastraki
was only a short drive from one of the great sights of Greece – the monasteries
of the Metéora. Metéora means suspended in mid-air which is an apt description
for buildings perched on rock pinnacles high above the Plain of Thessaly we had
travelled yesterday.
The area contains dozens
of pinnacles and stubby rounded cliffs of grey conglomerate, the remnants of
river sediment that flowed into a prehistoric sea that covered the Plain of
Thessaly. The conglomerate has been moulded into the current shapes by tectonic
plate pressure and erosion by the River Piniós that now flows well to the south
of the area.
A hermitage was formed on
one of the pinnacles in the late 900s with local residents hauling the hermits
up by means of ropes and pulleys. In 1336 they were joined by two monks who
built a monastery around 1344. That led to other monasteries being built and by
the 16th century there were 24 located on peaks in the Metéora. The
Greco-Turkish war resulted in the monasteries losing land revenue, many were
abandoned while some gradually disintegrated. Today there are just six
habitable monasteries, home to about sixty monks and fifteen nuns.
We set off in Smarty to
see how many of the monasteries we could visit but first stopped in the village
to buy supplies from a mini-market. That meant returning to Mabel to put
perishables in the fridge. Then we drove two or three kilometres up through the
village passing lots of tavernas and guest accommodation. From the village the
road climbed steadily into the hills. We parked by the side of the road with
the monastery of Ayiou Nikoláou perched high above us on top of an outcrop. A
sign at the foot of the track to the monastery spelt out the dress code. It
confirmed what Jane had read last night in that women had to wear a dress, not
shorts, and have their shoulders covered. Men were required to wear trousers
and long sleeved shirts. When I asked Jane last night if shorts were OK she had
said they were, which aligned with the basilica we had visited in Italy in
2012. That meant another trip back to Mabel for me to change into jeans, I also
put a long sleeved shirt in my backpack just in case my polo shirt wasn’t
acceptable.
Returning to Ayiou
Nikoláou we had made our way laboriously about a third of the way up the steep
track to the monastery feeling the effects of the heat and the gradient when I
asked Jane if she thought we needed some cash with us. My wallet was in Smarty.
She had a bit of a meltdown at that point saying she wasn’t going to return to
Smarty and walk all the way up to the monastery if we had to pay when we got
there. I did the decent thing and walked back to get my wallet while Jane
cooled off mentally and physically in the shade of a tree.
The track ended near the
summit where the rock rose vertically above us. There was a lift for the monks
to ascend the rock face, we had to climb 150 steps (according to our guide
book) to reach the monastery. We did
need cash, entry was €3 each.
The monastery was simply
amazing with a small church, the walls of which were covered with frescos
dating from the 16th century. I took a photograph and was asked by
an attendant not to take any more. On the level above that was a large room
that led to a balcony with commanding views across to other pinnacles that also
had monasteries perched on top. On other peaks we could see the remains of
monasteries that had fallen into disrepair.
The next level housed the
monk’s cells that were out of bounds to visitors. Above that were patios that
looked out over the village of Kastraki and the plain we had crossed yesterday.
Icons painted by monks at €100 each were displayed on a wall adjacent to one of
the patios.
We made our way back down
to Smarty and drove up to the next lofty perch – Roussánou. Founded in 1545 it
houses approximately a dozen nuns. Reaching it required yet another climb up
about 150 steps which was hard going in the heat. Our guide book described the
final approach as being across ‘a vertiginous bridge’ from an adjacent pinnacle.
While there was a drop beneath the bridge, it was nothing compared to the sheer
drop from the face of the building where the rock face fell away for hundreds
of metres. I wondered how they managed to start building the walls – masons
lying on their stomachs with mates holding their ankles, or maybe working from
buckets dangled over the edge? However they did it, it was an amazing feat
nearly 500 years ago.
Being higher, Roussánou
provided even better views over the surrounding area than Ayiou Nikoláou. I was
pleased I didn’t know at the time that a balcony I stood on to take photographs
was cantilevered out from the rock face with some raking struts for supporting.
I only found that out when looking up from the road afterwards. Like Ayiou
Nikoláou, the convent also had a small church decorated with frescos. Most were
particularly gruesome depicting beheadings and limb amputations. Unlike Ayiou
Nikoláou the convent had space for a lawn and small flower garden.
Ayiou Nikoláou As Seen From Roussanou |
Bridge At Entrance To Roussanou |
Roussanou Garden |
Steps led upwards from the convent’s entrance. We followed them for quite a way until we realised they led to a parking area on the road above the convent. Back at Smarty we ate our packed lunch of bread, cheese and tomato. Jane made friends with cats.
Jane The Cat Magnet |
Roussanou From Road To Varlaam |
From Roussánou we followed the road which wound its way upwards to the Varlaám, one of the oldest monasteries. This was much busier with lots of tourist buses parked on an approach road and souvenir stalls outside the entrance. A walk across a bridge that looked somewhat rickety spanning a deep gorge followed by a tiring climb of another 150 steps took us to the monastery. I noticed the monks had it a lot easier with a cableway stretching from the monastery to the road. Like the others we had visited it had a small church the walls of which were covered in intricate frescos. The church was filled with a tour group listening to a guide speaking in Russian, I think. Other than the church the monastery buildings were quite plain. This was compensated for by a good museum with displays of silver communion goblets, bishop’s robes and lots of other artefacts.
Varlaam |
Varlaam (Visitors climbing steps middle left) |
As we left in Smarty I spotted the distinctive orange motorbike of one our Turkish acquaintances from the camping ground heading out of the car park. We drove a short distance up a hill to the Megálou Meteórou monastery spotting a monk leaving Varlaám in the cable car, presumably having completed his shift. In the parking area outside the monastery at the end of the road were both the Turkish motorbikes and their riders. We stopped to wish them well on their travels and said we hoped to see them in Turkey.
Megálou Meteórou |
We didn’t visit Megálou
Meteórou. Instead we took the road to Ayias Triádhos which featured in the 1981
James Bond Movie ‘For Your Eyes Only’, not that I remember that.
The walk to
the monastery was even more demanding than its predecessors requiring climbing
down hundreds of steps from the road into a ravine before climbing back up that
distance, and then some, to reach the monastery. It was smaller than the others
and had the usual fresco decorated church. Otherwise it was plain. An
interesting feature we had also seen at Varlaám was a capstan originally used
to winch monks up to the monastery from the valley below. The monks travelled
in a basket hauled by a rope. According to our guide book a nineteenth century
abbot asked how often the rope was changed. The reply was “Only when it
breaks”. In time ropes were replaced with steel cables and then steps were cut
to all the monasteries after a bishop became concerned at his vulnerability
during visits.
Jane In Front Of Roussánou With Ayiou Nikoláou In The Background Seen From The Road To Ayias Triádhos |
Ayias Triádhos Chapel |
Basket For Hauling Up Monks |
Capstan For Hauling Up Monks |
Monk In A Basket - Hardly A Dignified Way To Arrive (taken from a guide book we purchased) |
As we left Ayias Triádhos
we could see a tour bus parked on the road. A group of elderly French tourists
were climbing the steps to the monastery. Many had stopped to catch there
breath, the sound of wheezing was everywhere. I commented to Jane that some of
them looked as though they were not going to make it. As we climbed back up to
the road we came across a man sitting in the shade, he hadn’t even made it down
to the bottom of the ravine.
From Ayias Triádhos we
drove to the last of the six remaining monasteries - Ayiou Stefánou. Our guide
book informed it was bombed during the second world war and was subsequently
rebuilt. The book described it as disappointing and reaching the monastery we
decided not to visit and turned around and headed back to the camping ground.
Ironically, it was the only monastery that could be accessed from road level,
not a single step to climb! We were pretty tired by then, the result of the
heat and climbing steps. However, we were pleased we had seen all six of the
monasteries still open and visited four of them. We had also seen the remnants
of a number of other monasteries. Sights that we were sure would remain vivid
in our memories for a long time to come.
Back at the camping
ground we spotted a sign outside reception giving the password for the wi-fi.
The owner saw us looking at it and came out to tell us the wi-fi wasn’t
working. Builders had accidentally cut the main cable into the village
yesterday. All the phones were dead and it would be tomorrow at best before the
cable was repaired as the telephone company didn’t work weekends!
I spent a few hours
backing up and cataloguing our photographs. Jane had a swim.
Dinner was the second
installment of Jane’s moussaka. It tasted better for having sat in the fridge a while.
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