We debated whether to move inland or head down south along the coastline of Greece. We ultimately decided to go inland. The coast towns are beautiful, but, if you haven’t noticed, TK and I are mountain kind of people. We do enjoy the beach, but it is not typically our first choice for exploring. Plus, Greece gets so much hype about the islands and beaches, yet there are so many more things to see (we did promise to ourselves, however, that we wouldn’t leave Greece without going to an island, preferably on the Ionnean sea, since we’ve already been to Santorini). Our first stop inland was Meteora. Now I’ve seen Meteora in documentaries and photos, but nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for what awaited. This place, where the creations of nature, man, and God live in perfect harmony, is truly awe-inspiring.
Meteora is one of those places that you think only exists in the Game of Thrones, with castles perched up on top of pillar rocks, reachable only by a rope pulley system. Then you pinch yourself when you realize that this exists, in real life, and you are in its presence. Meteora, which literally translates to “suspended in the air” is a complex of six Eastern Orthodox monasteries which were built on top of pillar rocks, making them appear as if they really are suspended in the air. But what really makes this place so unique and special is that those monasteries were built during the time when there were absolutely no roads or paths up to the top of these pillars.
This area is full of caves, some of which are thought to have been inhibited as far back as 50,000 years ago. Around the 11th century hermit monks found the rocks to be an ideal place to escape society and be closer to God. Most of these hermits resided in caves inside the rocks and would build scaffolding to climb higher up the rocks to collect rain water. The hermits lived solitary lives, but would congregate on Sundays to worship together. The chapels were typically built at the foot of the rock. As you can imagine living in these caves, some as high as 600 feet, offered a lot of protection from unwelcome visitors.
In the 14th century a monk by the name of Saint Athanasios Meteorites dubbed this place as Meteora, established the first monastery named The Great Meteoron, and built several churches. Like I mentioned before there were no roads or pathways leading up to the top of the rocks, and all of the materials were lifted using rope pulley systems as well as ladders. That first brave monk that climbed to the top first to install the pulley or drop down the ladder must have been one heck of a rock climber! The second founder of the monastery, monk Saint Iosaph, spent 40 years as a monk and dramatically expanded the monastery building additional structures, including a hospital and a cistern. He then built the second monastery on a steep, inaccessible rock opposite Great Meteoron. Eventually there were over 20 different monasteries built in the 14th and 15th century, of which 6 survive today: The Great Meteoron, Varlaam Monastery, Rousanou Monastery, Nicholas Anapausas Monastery, St. Stephen Monastery, and Monastery of Holy Trinity.
We were learning these facts as we walked through the no-photos allowed museum inside the Great Meteoron when I came across a very old decree signed by the Dusan the Mighty, King of the Serbs and Greeks, allowing the land to be used to build a monastery. And then I started to add the pieces together and realized that Saint Iosaph was able to do all of this expanding and building because he had money. The reason that he had money is that he was once king Ioannis (John) Uresis Paleologos, King of all Serbs and Greeks in Thessaly. His Serbian name was Jovan Uros Nemanjic. Nemanjic dynasty was one of the most important dynasties in the Serbian history as they established Serbia as a Kingdom and established the Serbian Church. They are almost single-handedly responsible for funding the building of all the monasteries across Serbia and Kosovo.
Saint Iosaph’s (Ioanni’s) uncle was King Dusan the Mighty, who was the most powerful of the Nemanjic monarchs and basically conquered majority of Eastern Europe as well as Greece during the time when Byzantine Empire was on its last legs and Ottomans were threatening to invade. He then proclaimed himself the Emperor of all Serbs and Greeks. But Dusan could not evade death. After he died in the mid 14th century, his childless son, dubbed Uros the Weak, could not command over the Kingdom like his father and territories were quickly parsed out between different people (and King Ioannis got to rule over Thessaly). Then, within 30 years of Dusan’s death, the Ottomans invaded an already divided nation, and rest is history. The Nemanjic dynasty technically ended with Saint Iosaph. But, oh boy, did he leave a legacy with Meteora!
Now, I had to laugh a bit because, if you remember from visiting Hunedoara Castle in Romania, I always, somehow, end up tying everything back to the Serbs. But, I will not lie, I was extremely proud to be a Serb standing there and looking over Meteora. I have visited almost all of the Nemanjic monasteries in Serbia (unfortunately not in Kosovo as most have been destroyed), and they were so instrumental in expanding culture, education, arts, literacy and preserving and propagating Orthodoxy in that region. Plus they are usually located in some of the most beautiful areas. And Meteora monasteries, due to their inaccessibility, were equally instrumental in preserving some of the most important and oldest manuscripts and documents and preserving Orthodox Christianity as well a Greek/Hellenic history and culture during the Ottoman rule. But, however inaccessible, they were not out of reach to German planes, as most of the monasteries were ruined by German bombs in WWII.
TK and I got lucky and visited on a Saturday, which means that all the monasteries were open and we could visit each one. We hiked to the first four and drove to the last two. Speaking of hiking. Here is a funny story! We asked our host the night before if they recommend any hikes that are “off the beaten path” to reach the monasteries. He recommended a path he uses to go running and showed us approximately where to turn, pointed to two huge rocks and said to go towards them, go between them, and climb up. We innocently thought that since this guy runs this route there must be at least a path. Oh boy! It took us about 30 minutes to even find a road to get to the rocks (we kept on getting trapped in between fences). We finally found what appeared to be a path that had some red marks on a few trees, and we got really excited. But the path forked several times and the red marks went both ways! One path went straight and was pretty much flat and we needed to get on top of the rocks. So we decided to make a turn and follow the red trail marks going up the rocks. And we climbed, and climbed, and climbed. Literally climbing along steep rocks squeezed in between crevices of other rocks.
Climbing rocks is not a skill I have, but at some point the prospect of getting down the rocks seemed scarier than going up. So I just pushed forward! And we finally, after what seemed like ages, we reached the top! And it was spectacular! Now the funny part (I had to laugh at myself but you may not really find this story that funny) is that the path that our host suggested continued on the flat road, that would have, eventually and gradually, swerved and lead us to the top. The “path” we took was the one for rock climbers. They just thought it would be clever to use red trail marks for both! So there you go, we are officially rock climbers 🙂
It was also at Meteora that we met the man who we dubbed as “the man with the kind eyes”. Now we did not have to ride up in a basket or climb up a ladder to get to the monasteries, but we did have to climb hundreds upon hundreds of stairs, and it was quite a fun (sarcasm) exercise. At one of the monasteries, as we neared to the top of the stairs huffing and puffing along with dozens of other people, an elderly gentleman, who was sitting right next to the entrance door, got up and reached his hand out to us to greet us. We were initially a bit confused as he appeared to be a visitor as well, not someone who worked there. When he looked at us he had the kindest eyes that either of us had ever seen. Everything about his countenance was kind and gentle and peaceful. He spoke to us something in Greek, and, seeing that we were confused, another lady exiting the monastery stepped in and told us that he was a priest visiting. And for a few minutes we had a conversation with this gentlemen in two completely different languages. I cannot remember his name or his face. I have no idea why he singled us out among dozens of people coming up to the monastery. I have no idea what the meaning was of what he said or why he said it. But I remember his eyes. The gentle, kind eyes that seemed to penetrate straight into my soul. They bring me an immense sense of peace and we often talk of the man “with the kind eyes”.
Getting to go inside every monastery and walk around the sacred spaces that were, up until recently, completely inaccessible to anyone but only the most devout of monks, was truly a privilege. I’ve been to many majestic places such as the Grand Canyon, visited beautiful monasteries in remote places, and seen wonderful works of art and architecture all across USA and Europe, but nothing has touched me as deeply and as profoundly as the trip to Meteora. I only pray to God that I live long enough to set my eyes upon this place again!
Also, for those of you wondering how we got down, no worries, we learned our lesson about hiking “off the beaten path” and took the nice paved road back!
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