The peaks of Meteora |
But what stories they tell. One that captured my imagination was that ropes were used to reach the monasteries (steps carved in to the rock were only introduced in the 1920s). Perilous enough, yes. But these ropes were never replaced unless broken. Only the will of God would determine whether the threadbare rope you clung to would support one more passenger, and if it didn’t, it was all too late. Or maybe that was just a convenient story to minimise visits from the Jehovah's Witnesses.
UNESCO says in its description: ‘Built under impossible conditions, with no practicable roads, permanent though precarious human habitations subsist to this day in the Meteora, but have become vulnerable under the impact of time. The net in which intrepid pilgrims were hoisted up vertically alongside the 373 m cliff where the Varlaam monastery dominates the valley symbolizes the fragility of a traditional way of life that is threatened with extinction.’ See the full description on the UNESCO list.
Monasteries, with their reclusive locations full of secret corners and alleys and their wise but dutiful populaces, have been credited with keeping Hellenic culture alive during the Ottoman occupation – not just Christian era Hellenic culture but the academic and cultural achievements of the ancient Greeks.
We headed on to our destination for the night, Larissa. Short of historic sights in town, we were the only foreigners to be found. There was a large cafe scene –never have I witnessed so much consumption of iced coffee. Every table at 30-odd cafes in the pedestrianised centre, even right in to the night. No one drinking hot coffee or alcohol, occasionally there’d be a soft drink sipper, but they were rare. On the whole, iced coffee or its variations like ‘cappuccino freddo’ etc.
This hinterland of Greece is also where meat is devoured with even more gusto and reverence than the rest of the country. Restaurants have several roasting carcasses turning in the window and rolled meat kebabs behind the counter. It was time for our first gyro- the street food with everything, but mainly meat. It was so good at lunch we went back for seconds at dinner.
Politics continued that night with a protest throughout the town at the abuses of politicians and the further cuts Greeks were facing.
Best foodie moment: my first Greek gyro: shredded roast pork and chicken in soft oiled hot pita with tomatoes and tsaziki. And unnecessary but not unwelcome chips tucked inside on top.
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