The Taverna On Top of the World
Islands in the Sky, Goats that Roam, and a Morning With the Oracle. Meteora & Delphi, Greece
We arrived at our hotel in Kastraki after dark and so were denied the opportunity to view the monoliths of Meteora until morning. It had cooled and a light rain began to fall as we retired for the night. Rain on a tin roof is one best lullabies and we quickly fell asleep.
In the morning we grabbed portable items from our included breakfast to eat in the car as we had been warned to get an early start to get ahead of the tour busses and crowds. The air was cool with the sun burning off a gauze like mist that floated at the base of the sandstone cliffs that were outside of our hotel. This was not the Greece that I had always imagined. This was a magical place where the earth and sky blend into such a pleasurable vista that you understand why monks settled here to contemplate their creator.
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Looking below you see the Thessaly valley stretching across the other range of mountains. This was the rich and fertile land that enticed and brought the Turks and forced the religious hermits to seek refuge at the tops of the monoliths.
You have to be men of faith to stand at the bottom of one of these pillars and think, there, at the top — that’s a good place to build our monastery.
Cream-colored buildings with terracotta roofs use every available inch of space and are an amazing feat of engineering.
To get to the top, we used a new addition from the 1940’s — stairs carved into the rock. The only way to ascend the pillars prior to that were ladders, ropes, buckets, and nets.
The September sun rose quickly and kept pace with the volume of tourists as we made our way to a few more of the monasteries. As we walked from the car to the the trail that led to the next monastery, we walked through vendors selling water, trinkets, and food. I was more curious than hungry when I handed over a few euros for a wedge of spinach pie. This was my introduction into authentic Greek pie and I was not expecting what I tasted and from a small cart on the top of a large hill. The crust was crispy and buttery, almost a phyllo, but with more thickness. And the filling was a harmony of greens, onion, ricotta, and potatoes. Sitting in the comfort of our air-conditioned car, and being watched closely by one of the local cats, we questioned if we should get a second wedge. I still can’t replicate the recipe exactly, but have come up with one that satisfies the craving. (Get Recipe Here)
Satiated and ready to take on the final few monasteries, we raced the tour buses that were beginning to arrive from Athens. Like a surfer riding a wave, we had visited the most popular in manageable crowds and parking. Now we would move on to the less popular as the crowds followed behind.
Our final visit was the easiest to gain access as it is built on the edge of the cliff and not on top of a monolith. The draw of this monastery is the flowers and the view to the valley below.
The hours of the monastery follow the schedule of the monks as they are still live spaces and so they close at lunch for meal and prayer. Satisfied with the ones we had visited we took our cue from the monks and left in search of our own lunch on the way to Delphi.
I have found that some of the best meals are simple, well-cooked dishes, usually found by nothing more than a small sign by the side of the road. As we made our way through the mountains, we spotted such a sign for a taverna and after a brief detour off of our planned route, found ourselves sitting outside overlooking the vista enjoying the perfect Greek lunch.
But first we had to navigate a local traffic jam. I am unsure of the specifics of Greek traffic laws, but am fairly sure that goats get the right of way.
When setting out upon your way to Ithaca, wish always that your course be long, full of adventure, for of lore.
Constantine P. Cavafy
It always surprises me, and I’m uncertain why, that food always tastes best locally. There is the saying that things that grow together go together, but there is also something about eating foods in the climate in which they have been cultivated and developed that brings about a harmony of being that I can’t describe.
The lunch was the same simple meal that has been served for generations; a simple salad of cucumber, onion, tomato, green pepper, and feta, dressed with a bit of olive oil and herbs, meat grilled over a wood fire, rice, and fried potatoes, crisp, hot, and buttery on the inside. And in that moment, in that place, sneaking bits of potato to the kittens below the table, looking out over the hills, and sitting with the love of your life, there is no place better to be.
Lunch finished, we dragged ourselves away from the view and said farewell to the kittens, so that we would make Delphi by evening.
It must be the climate in Greece, the closeness of the ocean no matter where in the country you are, that creates the perfect marriage between sky and land. The greens and the blues, the arid and the lush, all conspire to lull you into thinking that you might just be in the most beautiful place on earth. Of course, the Gods would live here. Where else but paradise do Gods reside?
Morning is always my favorite part of the day. Everything is still possible, and even if it is going to be hot, you can usually find some coolness in the clear morning air. It is a time before the day makes its demands. Delphi was no different. The temple, in the morning, is crisp and clear, with a sky so clear and blue that you feel untethered to the earth. This was where the Oracle sat on her three-legged perch and prophesied to those who sought council. There are those who theorize that she was only getting high on the volcanic fumes emanating from beneath her seat in the temple, but something brought her a following that is remembered to this day.
As the sun moved higher in the sky the unshaded areas, and there are many, became unfriendly. The shade became your ally. And the water that you had brought with you starts to diminish quickly. But you cannot pull yourself away from the beauty and connection you feel by standing on the same rocks as those who have come before, looking out over the same view that they witnessed. It is only when the sun forces you off of the temple that you relent and surrender to the air conditioning of the museum.
This is our last day on the mainland, and Delphi will be the last place we visit before heading out into the islands. This was a part of Greece I didn’t expect to visit, but the road trip from Athens was worth the two-day detour. We take one last look around and say goodbye as the day trippers from Athens begin to arrive. I’m glad that they made the trip, but am sorry for them for not being able to enjoy the morning before the heat. Before the crowds.
The Blue Star ferry we are taking overnight to Crete is not yet ready to board, so we park ourselves across the street to have a bite to eat. It is a beast of a ship and it is a thing of beauty to watch it load. Hours before the public can board, the loading of trucks begins. Tractor Trailers driven by those who have done this a hundred times before zip alongside the ship, pulling in front of the rear of the ship until the trailer is in the proper position and then back the truck up the ramp into the proper position. This is my first experience with ferries of this size and the orchestration required to load vehicles efficiently and logically is something to behold. A beer and a pizza later, we are able to meet our car rental agent to return the car and take our place aboard the ferry to Crete. Tomorrow morning, we will wake up and be on an island I have wanted to visit for years.
Uncorked and ready to go. Next stop, Crete.
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