Spirits Soar Atop the Monateries of Meteora

The rainbow provided cause enough for our guide to detour from the itinerary. He made a quick left-hand turn and came to a sudden stop overlooking the towering rock pillars.   The doors flew open, and 20 or so passengers tumbled out to capture this magical moment.    It almost felt disrespectful to take a photo without asking Mother Nature for permission.

Looking over the Pindus Valley, the colors bent like a bridge from the fertile, flat Thessalian Plain to an otherworldly, stone forest.  The scene looked more like Tolkien’s Middle-earth than Central Greece.

I knew that the summers in Meteora were overcrowded and expensive, so I picked the early late spring season for our pilgrimage.  We rented an affordable white Opel at the Athens airport for the 200-mile drive northbound on a toll-happy expressway called E65.

Soul Seekers

“This rainbow is a good sign,” smiled our local guide from Visit Meteora. “I guarantee a beautiful sunset at the end of this tour!” A swift breeze caught the scent of aromatic wildflowers blossoming in the rocky environment.  The echo of divinity from a wooden instrument called a sematron cut through our rowdy glee.

In truth, Meteora was never meant to be a playground for snapping selfies, but rather a quiet, protective retreat for six centuries of monastic worship and celibacy.  Christian monasteries here date back to the early 14th century.  They perch perilously atop a strange-looking conglomerate in a manner that makes you believe in miracles.

A Brief History

In 1988, when UNESCO designated it a World Heritage Site, the destination boomed in popularity.  And, though some of the sacred culture and customs have been forsaken by tourism, my experience was still mythical.

“The central region of the spine of Greece is one of the most dramatic and impressive landscapes in the world,” continued the sermon from our guide.

Contrary to mythology, Meteora is not a byproduct of a stone-throwing squabble between Zeus and the Titans.  Data suggests it was carved up by a deep river trench 60 million years ago, when massive layers of underwater deposits mixed with limestone cemented the granite and sandstone into place.  Then, 30 million years after that, tectonic activity pushed the seabed upward, creating the plateaus.

Being too enamored by the views to think straight, it was all Greek to me.

Storybook Scramble

In the morning, we washed down several cups of strong Greek coffee from a nearby cafe, complemented by tasty, circular bread rings called Koulouri.  When a light rain tapers off, we trekked among primordial peaks.

Our scramble snaked up the heart of a hillside dotted with traditional guesthouses and stray cats.  If not for the annoying hum of an illegal drone, our ascent would have been accompanied by a beautiful birdsong.

We were soon dwarfed by monstrous sandstone columns on each side of us, water-stained by eons of natural rusting.  Strange shapes with odd faces started to emerge.

I made out the tracings of a wrinkly-skinned elephant with a long tusk.  George saw a pair of jagged teeth.  Carolyn admitted it felt like we were being watched.

This land was alive with biodiversity.  A tortoise crossing our path, then a herd of sheep grazing in a verdant field, followed by an endangered vulture circling high above.  The hike reminded us that, other than monks, many habitats called this place home.

As far back as the 10th century, even cave-dwelling hermits sought refuge among these rocks. They believed in religious devotion through isolation, prayer and psalm.  Donations of food and water were hauled up to them by rope and pulley so they could survive.

Gateway to God  

The low-lying clouds lifted as we approached the Holy Trinity. Of the 24 original Eastern Orthodox monasteries, only six remain active today: Roussanou and Saint Stephen, along with St. Nicholas Anapafsas, the Great Meteoron, Varlaam, and the Holy Trinity.

All monasteries are open to the public at different times on different days, but a respectful dress code is required at each. For women, a long skirt with a shawl covering the arms is fitting. Men can borrow a pair of nondescript, baggy trousers at the entrance.

Arriving at the top, the Holy Trinity was closed. But we marveled at the chance of being in the same spot where Roger Moore filmed For Your Eyes Only.

Paradise by Pedal

An e-bike rental from the Hobby Shop in Kalabaka’s busy town square made exploration easier. “The gears are here, the throttle is over there,” pointed out the owner of the HobbyShop as we donned our sexy helmets.

We set off for nearby Kastraki, a town whose name means “small castle,” no doubt, due to the protective qualities of the surrounding mountains.

Dogs in Kastraki are no strangers to the freedoms of exploration, so when a friendly black lab lured us onto a gravel road, we followed. The route was littered with washouts and difficult to navigate but not far from the base of Holy Spirit Rock.

High above, we watched several intrepid climbers tethered to thin slings, balancing on a narrow crag. The adrenaline-seekers inched their way up the top of the massif to dizzying heights. It was unnerving to watch from the safety of the ground let alone anywhere else.

When our furry companion tires of us, we find ourselves at the base of Saint Nicholas monastery. It’s the smallest of six but beautified with post-Byzantine art and 16th century frescoes. At the entrance is a crypt where we paid an entrance fee of 5 euros to see the inside.

Cooking Made Easy

The fresh air made us hungry so we returned to Kastraki for reservations at Taverna Efrosino.  We easily parked our e-bikes alongside an outdoor table on a terrace overlooking the mountains.

Appetizers of fried eggplant and gooey, baked feta cheese called bougiournti (pronounced boo-yee-or-dee) arrived in record time.  George was happy with a savory, Greek lasagna called pastitsio, Carolyn dug into a heaping dish of traditional Greek salad, while I tried my luck with fried octopus.

Fantastic Fungi

The owners treat us to complementary jars of homemade honey and a steaming cup of mushroom tea.  The traditional drink provided the focus and energy to keep exploring.   We didn’t have time to partake in the truffle hunt, but we did enjoy the nearby Natural History Mushroom Museum.  I bought a chocolate-covered truffle bar as an indelible souvenir… a gift eaten long before I got home.

Mindful Presence

Travel isn’t just about where you go but how you choose to experience it, so having a hot tub at the boutique villa proved the perfect counterpoint to a day of fruitful exercise.  In the protective soak of this legendary destination, we slid into the bubbles with abandon, toasting to the peacefulness of, seemingly, paradise.

 

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