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Published: February 18th 2023
From a crow’s beak comes a crow’s voice… ~ Greek Proverb
HE SAID... Today we were continuing to explore the monasteries of the
Meteora (a few kilometres north of
Kalambaka).
We woke early and headed down to Hotel Alexiou’s stark dining area, where I enjoyed a fairly basic breakfast of yoghurt and muesli, bread and jam, and tea and juice. Well, one cup of tea. For the first time in our Greek travels, hot black tea was not easily accessible. Black tea bags, for some unknown reason, were like hens’ teeth here. Hotel Alexiou wasn’t luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but the staff were friendly and attentive. We were happy with our room, the view from our balcony, and the location of the hotel. What more did we need? We resigned ourselves to the fact that black tea was not an option in Kalambaka (or at least not at Hotel Alexiou).
We jumped into a taxi around 9am and headed to the Meteora, a towering rock formation that shadows Kalambaka’s north eastern boundary. Our first stop was the Great Meteoron (the largest monastery in the Meteora), which we’d visited the previous day but not entered. We drove through the small village of Kastraki on our ascent,
which we’d also visited the previous day. It seemed a little less impacted by tourism than Kalambaka, despite its closer proximity to the monasteries. Maybe it was just the time of day.
It was a beautiful morning, and the view (from the taxi) of the perpendicular columns of rock jutting high into the sky above us was incredible. We snaked our way up the winding Meteora roads to the bustling carpark of the Great Meteoron, which was surprisingly busy despite the early hour. The steps cut into the rockface that led up to the monastery were a little too exposed for me (despite being enclosed by a waist high rock wall), so I opted to stay in a quiet shady courtyard at the base of the steps while Ren ventured upwards. It was a very calm and peaceful place, and I could see why it is so alluring to those seeking a life of solitude and meditation.
As I sat writing, a steady stream of people made their way up the steps to the monastery high above. The vast majority of them approached the rockface with a very calm resolve – the exposed steps had no impact on
their journey. In the time I was there, not a single person turned back, or hesitated, or expressed any concern. Elderly tourists and seasoned pilgrims walked slowly but surely up the steps. It was a strange feeling to be the only person unable to venture upwards, especially given my desire to visit the monastery with Ren. We are all wired differently.
Thoughts while sitting alone outside a monastery Having lived with a fear of heights for most of my life, I’m accustomed to sitting out height-related activities. I welcome the downtime, as I’ve always enjoyed drifting with my thoughts. The following is a transcript from my notebook as I sat in the empty courtyard.
1. The cost of elevation
Man’s desire to build in dangerously high places has always fascinated me. While it clearly offers protection from enemies and invading forces, it must have an associated human cost. I can only imagine how many lives were lost during the construction of the Meteora monasteries.
2. The cost of nationalism
Our travels through Greece have been amazing to-date. The food has been fabulous, the scenery has been extraordinary, and most of the people we’ve met have been extremely
friendly. Some haven’t. Unfriendliness to foreigners is often a consequence of inherent, hard-nosed nationalism. It’s a global issue, and it is prevalent in Australia. Greeks are understandably proud of their heritage, culture and nationality. Some are not at ease sharing this with other ethnicities.
3. Greece as an unguided travel destination
Greece has been reasonably easy to navigate for us (as Australian tourists). Despite the language difference, the vast majority of people we have met speak fluent English, and nearly everyone has understood our spoken English. We have communicated easily; we have navigated large cities and small villages easily; and we have acclimatised to the culture relatively quickly. A simple ‘kalimara’ of a morning when walking past locals in small village streets has made such a difference. In large cities, our friendly greetings have occasionally been ignored or unreciprocated (with suspicious looks cast in our direction), but this happens in most large cities, including those in Australia.
4. The climate in Greece
It’s hot in Greece. Despite travelling in the shoulder season, the temperatures we experienced in the south were reasonably high. The heat was intense under the Athenian sun, and it was much the same everywhere else
– with the possible exception of Thessaloniki.
5. The population spread in Greece
Greece has a population of 10.5 million. 60% reside in Athens and Thessaloniki. The remaining 40% is spread over the remaining landmass, including the country’s 227 inhabited islands. It amazes me that more than half the population of an entire country can be concentrated in two cities. And I loved them both. Especially Athens!
6. The Monastery (song lyrics)
I rarely find time to work on lyrics. This was a perfect setting.
In a quiet place
they arrive
to pray
they don’t stay
they refuse
their eyes
refuse to stare
refuse to meet.
The cool morning breeze
shrouds a world of loss
endless and relentless.
A silent martyr
shivers on a cold floor Anyway, that’s a transcript of my notes from the quiet courtyard at the base of the Great Meteoron. When Ren returned from exploring the monastery, we walked a short distance down the hill to the Varlaam Monastery – the second largest monastery of the Meteora. Once again, the steps cut into the rockface leading up the monastery were a little too exposed for me, so I found a quiet peaceful
alcove at the entrance to wait while Ren explored the clifftop structure. This time, however, I wasn’t alone. Another member of our group decided to opt out of the rockface steps. The shady alcove was a perfect place to retreat from the sun.
As we sat and talked, two builders were renovating the outside of the monastery directly above us. They were walking on flimsy narrow scaffolding with a sheer drop to the valley below. I could barely comprehend their courage. Sure, they were wearing safety harnesses, but nothing would have been safe enough for me. It was hard enough watching them from the relative safety of our quiet alcove.
When Ren returned from the monastery, we decided to walk back to Kalambaka via Kastraki. We ventured down a beautiful and peaceful walking track that flowed naturally through the massive rock columns of the Meteora. It was an incredibly picturesque and meditative walk. We emerged from the forested slopes in Kastraki around 1pm, where we happily settled at a table at Efrosino, the small cafe we’d visited for coffee the previous day. We ordered stuffed peppers with rice, which we enjoyed with large slabs of slightly grilled bread
drizzled with olive oil.
This was home-cooked food at its best. While it may not have been the tastiest dish we’d sampled in Greece, it was an incredible meal to savour after our descent by foot from the monasteries. I cooled down with a Vergina beer, which was fast becoming my favourite local beer. However, it was a very difficult beer to pronounce (and order)! 😄
Feeling suitably refreshed, we walked back to Kalambaka in the early afternoon sun – and it was hot! Seriously hot! We explored a few shops in the main street, picked up some supplies from a friendly mini-mart opposite our hotel and then settled on our balcony to catch up on our travel notes, with the breath-taking Meteora jutting skywards in front us. It was the most perfect afternoon! We’ve experienced some of the most memorable places to sit and write in Greece!
We headed out in the mid-evening to Meteoron Panorama, an ideally located restaurant – due to its slightly elevated position – on the other end of town. It took us a while to walk there. After waiting for a table, we were eventually seated around 8:30pm. We shared the
following dishes:
> Dolmades with yoghurt and basil oil
> Meatballs in tomato sauce on rice.
The food was incredible. The service was incredible. The shimmering night lights of Kalambaka were incredible. The view of the towering Meteora, silhouetted against the darkening sky, was incredible. All in all, our experience at Meteoron Panorama was incredible! At the end of the meal we received a complimentary orange pie with ice cream, along with a complimentary
rakomelo – a smooth and powerful Greek digestive spirit.
We’d unknowingly overstayed our welcome, which we always try to avoid. The restaurant was ready to close, yet we were all still talking. We settled the bill and wandered back to the hotel in the balmy evening, arriving just before midnight. This had been a fantastic travel day, and our descent (by foot) through the Meteora valley – from the Varlaam Monastery to Kastraki – was the absolute highlight.
We were leaving Kalambaka in the morning and driving to Delphi – a four-hour southbound road trip by minibus. We eventually retired around 12:30am.
SHE SAID... We woke to the gorgeous view of the rock pillars of
Meteora being tinted gold by
the sun’s first rays peeping through a grey dawn sky. We were staying in the small village of
Kalambaka at the base of the geological phenomenon that is Meteora.
Hotel Alexiou was a bit of an idiosyncratic place, but we’d forgiven its peculiarities because we loved the view from our room so much. For example, having used the last two tea bags at the tea station at breakfast, we were told they’d run out of black tea and could only offer us coffee or green tea. After that lacklustre start I wasn’t really surprised that the bread was slightly stale and the tomatoes looked and smelled like leftovers from the day before. I settled for my standard ‘Greek’ breakfast of toast, feta, olives and boiled egg (sadly, minus the tomatoes). I love tomatoes, but like with bananas, I’m totally resolute that they have to be ultra-fresh and non-squishy! Thankfully they had a choice of biscuits to soothe my grumpiness about the lack of tea and the gross tomatoes.
The group was spending most of the day exploring two monasteries, so at 9am we piled into taxis that drove up into Meteora and deposited us at the first monastery
we were visiting – Moni Megalou Meteorou (Great Meteoron Monastery). I had thought the monasteries had been crowded when we visited the evening before, but it was nothing on how absolutely jam-packed it was this morning. The monastery hadn’t even opened, yet the queue snaked along the steep stone staircase down to almost ground level. Andrew had been a bit unsure about climbing the exposed steps on the side of the open rock, but on seeing the crowds he was totally sure he would sit this climb out and wait for us at the base of the rock.
The climb of about 300 steps to the top was slow going, and was made even more difficult by the already strong sun burning down on us as we waited. The Great Meteoron Monastery is the biggest and oldest of all the monasteries. Very much like at St Stephen’s Monastery the day before, we had access to a church, a museum, internal courtyards and a shady terrace with stunning views – but everything else was out of bounds. There was also a left-as-it-was 16th century kitchen.
Even though the monastery was founded in the early 14th century, its main church
was built in the mid-16th century. It’s a very large church with beautiful frescoes and an unusual dome. However, with ‘No Photos’ allowed inside, I have no way to remember all the details of everything I saw.
This monastery sits on the highest rock in the area (613m). Even though I have no issues with heights, my heart raced a bit when I looked directly over the side of the rock cliff from the terrace. I think the last time I felt like this was when I was on a ridiculously high ride in a theme park. 😊
The toilets in the monastery were of the squat variety which I wasn’t surprised about. However, I was extremely surprised that such old-world toilets were accessed through a very modern motion sensor door! I was also shocked at the extremely poor sanitary conditions of the toilets. It’s clear that the tourists who visit the monastery have no experience in using squatty potties and thus think it’s ok to soil the floor! It was really gross. The monastery needs to either post educational posters on how to use squat toilets, or they need to employ a full-time toilet cleaner.
The
monastery’s museum was full of old manuscripts and iconography. It was interesting, but it just didn’t engage me. I eventually walked back down the many steps, through a small tunnel cut into the rock and met Andrew. Tom and Alex from our group had been great monastery exploration companions, but I really missed experiencing it with Andrew.
When the whole group had returned to ground level, we walked the short distance downhill to Moni Varlaam (Varlaam Monastery). A small bridge led to the 140 or so steps carved into the stone cliff face, and even though it wasn’t as exposed as the previous monastery, the staircase still hung on the outside of the rock for long enough that Andrew declined the climb.
Named after the hermit Varlaam who founded it in the mid-14th century, it’s the second biggest monastery but it felt very compact and intimate. Again, we were only allowed access to the chapel, internal courtyards, a terrace and a very good museum of monastic history. However, there were many more nooks and crannies to explore in this monastery than the last one.
I loved the beautiful little 16th century All Saints Chapel, and the colourful
frescos were the most engaging of all the religious art I’d seen in Meteora so far. However, as with the other monasteries, there was a ‘No Photos’ policy in the chapel.
I loved the museum which held interesting Renaissance period religious icons, as well as vestments and artefacts from the Byzantine period. However, very unfortunately the museum was downstairs near the extremely smelly toilets, and I couldn’t stand the stench for very long. Even the holy incense burning in one corner couldn’t mask that evil reek.
The monastery still has a tower with an old pulley system which would have once hoisted up provisions and old monks who couldn’t manage the ancient ladders used to access the monastery. However, the tower was being restored, so I could only observe from afar. One of the rooms also housed a huge 16th century oak barrel which I assumed had been used for storing wine, but I later read it was used for water storage. I liked my wine theory better. 😊
I probably shouldn’t compare, but I enjoyed Varlaam Monastery the most of all the monasteries we’d visited. However, a certain incident nearly stripped away all the magic I
felt. After exiting the monastery and sitting in a shady terrace with Andrew, we witnessed a senior monk yelling at some workers. From what we could gather, he was in a total fit about some dead leaves on the ground near where we were sitting. A worker began to sweep the leaves, but that wasn’t to the monk’s satisfaction, and he resorted to blasting the leaves away with a garden hose.
It became obvious that he wanted us to leave the area when he just about started splashing water at all of us sitting in the shade. He was a nasty and aggressive man. I wished I’d had the guts (and language skills) to ask him what Jesus would think of his behaviour. We exited the area while he continued yelling at everyone around him. His angry and unkind behaviour was not only improper for a man of his position, it was totally unacceptable for any employer to treat employees in such a degrading manner. He needed some lessons in courtesy, respect and anger management.
The group was given the option of catching taxis back to town or hiking down, and all but one decided on the hiking
option. We found the hiking path close to the monastery entrance and began walking down a beautiful shady stone path. It first meandered its way past the monastery’s extensive vegetable gardens, after which the path got a bit rougher and rockier.
We zigzagged through the towering rocks – which was as surreal as it was seriously enjoyable. We walked under the Great Meteoron Monastery and passed ruins of other monasteries. I loved walking among the big walnut and chestnut trees, and smaller wild fig trees. Gareth had a keen interest in botany and bush foraging, which made discussing our surroundings very enjoyable. When the land started levelling out, the path grew thick with wild blackberry bushes.
Early in the walk, a few of us had discussed the possibility of coming across a snake in such an overgrown wild area, but had dismissed it as unlikely given the moderate popularity of the track (we passed people every 10 or 15 minutes). However, on now realising the undergrowth was thick with blackberry bushes, I realised the likelihood of snakes was high… that’s if Greek snakes like the same type of habitat as Tasmanian Tiger snakes!
We eventually arrived in
Kastraki and walked its quiet streets, passing small shops, a church, and simple houses with front yards overloaded with fruit trees. Georgia (our group leader) had no issue with picking fruit from branches that hung over the fence line, and we ‘sampled’ juicy red grapes and just ripening purple figs as we walked down to have lunch at Cafe Efrosini (where we’d had coffee the afternoon before). The roughly 45-minute hike from the monasteries to Kastraki had been such a pleasurable activity! 😊
Andrew and I had
gemistas (baked peppers stuffed with herbed rice) and potatoes for lunch. It was lovely homey food and the perfect spot for a long lazy lunch in a little Greek village. The very friendly owners placed a bowl of complimentary mini white chocolate ice creams on the table. It was the perfect dessert for such a sweltering day.
We took our time walking the road between Kastraki and Kalambaka, and visited a few tourist shops and bakeries on the way. It was the sort of hot afternoon that required more ice cream, but the first shop we stopped at didn’t offers samples… so they didn’t get our custom. The next shop was
generous with their samples and I ended up with a very delicious fresh cherry ice cream. It was perfect. 😊
We spent the rest of the afternoon on our balcony with cups of tea, short bread biscuits, beer, coke and oregano flavoured potato chips (crisps). We’d loved the oregano chips so much the night before that we bought a family size pack this time!
We regrouped in the hotel foyer that evening and walked to Meteoron Panorama, a restaurant in a stunning setting in the upper part of town. It’s literally at the base of a large rock that was lit up very atmospherically. Andrew and I shared
dolmades (vine leaf rolls stuffed with herbed rice) in a yoghurt sauce with basil oil, and
keftedes (meatballs) in tomato sauce on a bed of amazingly well-cooked rice. Both meals were delicious, as was the complimentary dessert of orange pie with ice cream.
As we were sorting out the bill, the very theatrical hostess of the restaurant brought us complimentary shots of
rakomelo (warm raki with honey, cinnamon and cloves). This drink from Crete is Greece’s version of mulled wine, but it’s made with a Cretan spirit called
raki (a strong grape-distilled brandy) that’s called
tsipouro elsewhere in the country. It was seriously delicious, and given Andrew loves
tsipouro, I asked the hostess for the recipe. She was a very smooth operator and made a big deal about sharing the recipe because it was apparently her grandfather’s secret family recipe… but then said she’d exchange the recipe for reviews of the restaurant! 😊
It felt like a long walk back to the hotel, and despite being tired, we both forced ourselves to pack. We had intended on spending our last night in Kalambaka enjoying our lovely balcony with a view; but this was thwarted by us both being insistently summoned by sleep.
To wrap up our time in Meteora, here are some of my thoughts:
> I’m glad our hotel was in the village of Kalambaka rather than Kastraki;
> I had initially regretted not being able to visit all six monasteries (especially the smaller ones), but in hindsight, I think they all offer pretty much the same overall experience;
> The marketing catchphrase of ‘the monasteries remain unchanged since the 16th century’ is remarkably mostly true;
> Sadly, I didn’t feel the monastery visits gave me
any insight into the lives of the monks or nuns;
> The crowds were insane, and it (ironically) takes away from the very element that spawned these monasteries in the first place – spiritual isolation;
> I highly recommend a visit, but keep in mind that the monasteries seem to serve the god of tourism as much as they serve the Christian God;
> My Meteora experience was all the richer and more rewarding for experiencing it in a variety of ways – driving to view points, visiting the rocks and their cliff top monasteries, and walking through the landscape… both beneath and between the rock pillars;
> Meteora is an extremely stunning and unique destination, and the geological landscape is as much a drawcard as the monasteries;
> It’s an experience I’ll never forget!
Next we travel south to Delphi, of the Oracle of Delphi fame.
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Chris L.
non-member comment
Living History
Enjoyed this read immensely. Well done.