Syrrako is a village completely built of stone. Stone houses, roofs, roads, churches, fountains, bridges. It is unique and rare and remote, located in the rugged and mountainous Greek region of Epirus, more specifically in the center of the Tzoumerika National Park on the slopes of Mt. Lakamos. TK stumbled upon this village when exploring the region on Google maps and when he suggested that we check it out, and showed me a photo of the surrounding mountains, I said yes. It was only a 52 km detour from Ioannina, the next big town on our drive to the coast. Little did I know that those would be the scariest 52 km of my life.
The Transfaragastan has nothing on the road to Syrrako! It is 52 km of continuous hairpin bends with very acute inner angles that wind up gaining approximately 2,000 feet in elevation. The road literally (and I am not exaggerating here using the world literally, I really mean literally) looked like a Christmas tree on Google maps. It is hair-raisingly narrow and long stretches of it can only accommodate the width of one car. Guardrails were basically non-existent (it is you, a mountain to your left and a 2,000 foot drop off into a ravine to the right). And all the locals drive speeds of Formula One drivers. Needless to say, I was petrified. And the Kandilarkia, which seemed to be located at every hairpin bend, did not ease my anxiety (Kandilarkia are these miniature churches that are placed by the road and used as shrines to commemorate people who have either died in, or miraculously survived, a tragic accident).
Despite enduring what I perceived to be the scariest drive of my life, Syrrako was truly a privilege to visit. The Tzoumerika region is known for its beautiful nature, remote villages, and stone bridges. Syrrako is one of only two completely preserved stone villages in this region. The second is the village of Kalarrytes. It sits opposite of Syrrako across a deep ravine connected via an 18 km long footpath that crosses the ravine (now a beautiful hike) or an hour long drive around the steep mountains. Syrrako is still, technically, only reachable by foot (you park your car a bit outside of the village and cross a stone bridge to reach it). It is a quiet and sleepy village, with a couple of tavernas and a mini market. The only sound you hear is water from several streams and rivers. The population is dwindling. Only elderly people remain, 70 plus being the average age of the villagers. This is actually something we observed in most of the villages we drove through and/or visited in Europe. Younger people are moving to the cities in search of jobs and modern conveniences. Schools are closing because there are no children. It is hard for me to think what will happen to all these villages, once vibrant and full of life, after this generation dies.
And Syrrako was definitely once a lively and vibrant village. Syrrako and Kalarrytes were initially populated by Aromanian Vlachs as early as 11th century. Vlachs are a specific ethnic group that consists of Romance-speaking people of the Balkans and Tatra mountains (similar language to Romanian) that are mainly Orthodox Christian. You can see from the style of the houses (most multiple stories high) that people in Syrrako were pretty well off. Syrrako and Kalarrytes were part of an autonomous federation during the Ottoman period and therefore enjoyed privileges. They were very well-known for their wool and textile industry (some say that textiles used to make the capes for Napoleon’s army were from Syrrako) and jewelry craftsmanship (the founder of BVLGARI is from Syrrako-Kalarrytes). They also make great cheese!
We spent several hours strolling (aka hiking) up the steep, narrow, and windy roads of Syrrako. We learned that in order to install the sewer system the village, the villagers removed every stone from the paths and then put them back in the original place. All by hand! We encountered, tops, four other tourists. There was, however, a newly married couple who came to Syrrako to take their wedding photos. I bet those will look amazing with Syrrako and the mountains as backdrop. The couple of villagers we came across were mainly sitting out on their balconies, chit chatting or playing cards. Most homes, however, are not inhabited. We took advantage of the solitude and basked in the peace and quiet.
We had a locally prepared dinner with locally made pasta and cheese. And for dessert we feasted on “little apples” which we picked directly off the trees. We were encouraged to pick as many as we can to eat and enjoy “as there was no one left in the village to pick them anymore.” In the evening we settled in the local taverna, and, mimicking the locals, played cards. And, to top it all off, our beers were served with some delicious savory meze. I mean, how can you not love Greece!
Lefkada
We promised ourselves that we wouldn’t leave without a typical “island” Greek experience, so we decided to say bye to the mainland and head to an island! However, getting to an island with a car is not that simple (or, to be more correct, not that budget friendly). But we found a compromise in Lefkada. Lefkada is an island on the Ionnian sea (thought by some to be Homer’s Ithaca). It actually used to be connected to the mainland via a small isthmus, but a trench was dug in the 7th century to separate Lefkada from the mainland. Today the two are re-connected by a floating bridge. We get island. We get easy car crossing. So we headed to Lefkada during the peak tourist season!
We parked ourselves in the town of Lefkada on Lefkada island, directly on the main promenade, and we learned fast that Lefkada does not sleep (ear plugs came in real handy). From our balcony we had the view of the whole promenade and it was people watching heaven! We also happened to be there during the annual folk festival, with music and dance performances happening right outside our window on the outdoor ampatheather. We paid dearly for enjoying the peace and quiet of Syrrako so much!
We promised ourselves that we would not do anything but enjoy the sea breeze and go to the beach. And eat sea food. Lefkada, after all, is known for its fishing villages. And the fish did not disappoint. My favorite thing was, what I dubbed as “fast food fish.” Basically a nice fisherman catches a fish in the morning, he brings it to his shop and you walk in there, point to the fish you want, they clean it and fry or grill or bake it for you right there, and you take it home! Fresh and fast and delicious!
We also went to the beach. But, in true TK and Nevena fashion, we attempted to avoid the crowds (living right on the promenade was enough) and we didn’t want to render our little VW Polo useless while in Lefkada (she deserved an adventure too). So, instead to heading to our neighborhood beach, we decided to drive across the island to Gialos beach. Lefkada, like many other Greek islands, is not flat. So to get to the Gailos beach we had to brave another hair-raisingly steep and windy road. But that is why not many people go there, and it was totally worth it. What is extremely difficult to capture on these photos, with my crappy phone camera, is the three different shades of blue that the water has! If I did not see it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. But here is a few photos anyways, and you can use your imagination!
Oh, and while we were in Lefkada the solar eclipse happened in the USA. We were so sad to miss it but got live updates from my cousin who was enjoying it in Oregon. This was the sunset we were enjoying at the exact time the solar eclipse was happening, consoling ourselves and planning for Texas Eclipse 2024 🙂
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