Meteora

Looming above the town of Kalabaka are the cliffs of Meteora. They are an average height of 1,000 feet, and were first inhabited in the 9th century by a group of hermit monks who lived on the rock towers. It's now a UNESCO world heritage site.

Six monasteries remain out of the original 20 and today we visited two of them. Thankfully our bus drove us most of the way to the first monastery and we only had to climb a few dozen sets of steep stairs to the top.

Ruth and Clara donned wraparound skirts that they'd bought the night before. Apparently monks either don't know that women have legs or the sight of those legs drives them crazy. Either way, you can't show the silhouette of your woman-legs.

The Byzantine Holy Monastery of Varlaam is the second biggest monastery in this area. Sometime around the year 1350, a monk named Varlaam (of course) climbed this insanely steep, vertical cliff. Using what must have been some seriously good logic or convincing, a few other monks joined him and they established the monastery. After Varlaam died, a long time later, the cliff was abandoned by the rest of the monks. My guess is they had a rather sensible fear of heights.

Two monk-brothers from Ioannina built the foundational monastery in 1541. There are some amazing frescos in Varlaam; all of the three main rooms are painted with figures and scenes from floor to ceiling. Impressive. 

Here is where I learned: the tower or cupola has a painting of Jesus on it's ceiling, looking down on you with that look He has in so many paintings; like you just want to talk to the guy and hear what he has to say because he looks wise. And like He might be able to hook you up with a good spot to catch fish or something.

Anyhoo, Clara and I found vending machines on the patio; I got a hot cocoa (thank you, Google Lens translator) and Clara got a chocolate bar. 

As we descended to the bus area, we spotted someone or something being taken by cablecar up to a high spot of the monastery. No tourists allowed.

The second monastery that we visited was St. Stephan's Holy Monastery, founded in the 14th century by St. Athanasios Meteorites. That's quite a gamer tag for someone. 

It was first inhabited by hermit monks. Side note: The word "hermit" originally comes from the Greek word "erēmos," meaning "desert" or "wilderness" and describes a person who lives alone in a secluded place in order to pursue a life of contemplation.

The monastery attracts a lot pilgrims over the years. The monastery suffered damage during the Ottoman occupation of Greece, but was later restored in the 16th century. It was converted to a nunnery and during World War II, it was bombed by German forces, and many of its treasures were lost. However, it's been well-restored. Screw you, nazis!

Here, I saw a whole bunch of people coming into a room and kissing several paintings, and a box that contains three remains of St. Stephan. For real. I saw some parents teaching their kids how to do the sign of the cross and lifting them to kiss some of the stuff. Some kneeled, some did perfect cross motions, some looked like their wife dragged them there and they were just going through the motions. I bet some were pilgrims. 

The paintings in St. Stephan's were in a similar Byzantine style.  The saints were all painted with expressionless faces. Think Monday morning before coffee. They did this for many reasons; one of them was to show that if they were in pain,  they would not show it. 

Ruth was obsessed with the room that showed martyrs being flayed, pressed, speared, beheaded. It's her jam.  The Judgement Day paintings were a real treat, too.  We weren't allowed to take photos and the nuns kept giving us the evil eye.

Back on the bus to Athens I grow weary of the bumpy road and autocorrect conspiring to turn words like "monastery" into "monstrosity" and "people" into "pr 's   !es+sing."

Time for a trip to the grocery store and a nap before going out to celebrate New Year's Eve.

- Rik