TINOS

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We thought Tinos was a lovely island.... after our dislike of Syros, that is. We arrived at the port and immediately spotted the domatia tout we were looking for, since an English couple who we had been talking with on Syros had recommended him to us. It certainly took the hard work away for him, as well as for us.
However, the wind, a Greek wind known as the Meltimi had got up and so the entire time we spent on Tinos, we were shoved about by 60 mile an hour winds.
Tinos is predominantly about religion. The Church of Panagia Evangalistria built from marble from the islands quarries stands magnificently on the hill, and is a place of pilgrimage. A nun had a dream in the early 1800's about an icon buried nearby. Now, this icon of the virgin Mary is displayed in the church, although it cant actually be seen since it is covered in gold and jewels. There is a long carpet, stretching about 500 metres up the road leading to the church, for the pilgrims to crawl up on their hands and knees. Most people ( catholics, obviously) arrive on foot, and genuflect and kiss the icon. Seems to me to be a good way to catch a germ or two.
Our next day was to be spent on a bus tour of the island, to get our bearings ready for some serious hiking. unfortunately, the bus trip didnt materialise - end of season I expect, so we took a taxi to the Monastry at the foot of the Exobougo mountain. Here, Father Mario enquired if I spoke french, to which I replied "un peu", and was then blessed with a 15 minute spiel in fluent and intricate french about the history of the monastry. I nodded enthusiastically at appropriate moments and think I actually understood a generous tenth of the lecture.
We decided to follow a supposedly well marked footpath down to the town 8 km away. The first km was fabulous, but after that we lost the trail. Upon finding it again, we set off downwards, for about 100 mtrs, before finding it blocked by trees and aloes. I tripped over a thistle onto a piercingly sharp spike of a huge aloe and punctured my arm. Ouch... and septic the next day. We retraced our steps and pursuaded the local school bus driver to take us with the children back down to the port.
Next day... Andros.....

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Photos

Marco, the islands pelican
Generally spotted outside the fishmongers for some reason

A pligrim crawling up the carpet
She would stop every 5 mtrs or so, do a bit of genuflecting, presumably to ask for the strength to carry on a bit further

SDC10624
Nearly there now....

Volunteers clearing the trail
They come from all over the world, presumably on one of those "take a month out of your lives" schemes. I've often fancied doing somthing like that myself, in some way

SDC10649
They are soooooo sharp, really like daggers, and if you fell hard onto your chest, it could probably be fatal.