Tassie Golly's adventures 2015 travel blog

Macrame in Fodele


A local day today. No rush, we just got ready, did some washing and then decided to visit Rodia, a few hills away - there is a monastery there. It wasn't far to the town - a few km down the hill then a few more up a different hill. The town is a "long" town - ie it stretches along the road running across the hill. The usual narrow streets meant care was needed. If it's not a wall or car on one side, it's a set of steps leading down on the other. Not paying attention could spell an insurance claim!

We stopped to by water. A few black grannies stared. We parked and views the Platia and a statue ( most likely a freedom fighter).

Then we turned up the road that had the Monastery sign. This of course was the last such sign we saw! The road was narrow and steep with frequent hairpins. We reached a small flat section with a derelict taverna. The only road up from here had a sign to a nunnery! We went up, and up, and up. From the bottom we had looked up and seen a large building with bell tower and domes, so we assumed that was the monastery. Well, it was up here, but as we got closer we realised this building was not finished - a reinforced concrete shell with no doors or windows, no paint.... So we kept on across the "hill". By now we were nearly at the top where the communications aerials were. The road narrowed and deteriorated . Still no Monastery. We reached a corner with goats either side, and the road disappeared into the distance. No Monastery, no nunnery! J decided things were getting out of hand, so we turned and retraced our steps. When we got back down, it became clear the monastery and Nunnery were one and the same! Why? What sort of logic is that? J muttered all the way back to the apartment where we had cheese sandwiches and a glass of wine for lunch.

Next stop was a village called Fodele about 4 km west. It took only a few minutes to get to the turnoff, and we enters a lush green valley full of Orange groves, plus grapes and olives. The town was very nice - wide street through the middle, lots of large shady trees, a park, playground, cafes and tavernas and a river flowing through ( more of a stream really). We parked and strolled. Looking for a hat for C as it seems she left hers at Agios Nicholaos! No hats, but lots of lace, linen, and woven items. There were black grannies making macrame bags in the street. "Macrame madam? very cheap!". We did start to wonder if the " it's all made here in the shop" assertions in Kritsa yesterday were cons. Everything looked identical. Anyway, who cares if you like it.

We sat and had a cold Frappe and a very moist (hello Rob!) piece of Orange cake. The owner asked where we were from. J said " where do you think"? He tried England, Germany, and France. J said " a long way away". "Ah, Australia"

Well there was another brown and gold sign pointing to a Monastery so we followed it out of town. After a while we gave up - there's no way of knowing if it is 100m or 100km! Back in town there were 2 more signs - the Byzantine church of the Panagia , and the El Greco museum. We found the church a few hundred metres on - not open of course but lovely to look at (11th Century) Almost over the road, the museum. J checked and it was open. J asked why an El Greco museum. "Because he is a famous artist" "Yes, but why here"? "Because he was born in this house". We always thought he was Spanish, but no, he was Greek - Dominikos Theotokopoulos. You can guess why the preferred to call him "the Greek"! You learn a little each day....

We called in to a beach on the way back - there was a tourist shop and they sold hats. C has a new white one with a pink band!

Home for a siesta.

About 6:30, as the sun was getting low, J grabbed camera and headed over to Achlada village to get some pictures. A woman sitting in the Platia ignored his Kalispera. Not a good start. He walked on and then down a narrow road entering at a lower level. Here a black granny herding chooks! She responded well to his greeting and was happy with photos being taken. In any case, much of the town is old and in ruins - crumbling walls, collapsed roofs, rusty gates, peeling blue and green doors. But interesting. The road became laneways, up and down, in and out. A couple of dogs looked angry, but were chained! After an hour it was time to finish. There was a real contrast between the modern Platia with proper lighting, large pots, and seats, the church with its retaining walls being painted today, and the crumbling houses and streets within which people live.

Time for tea, so a short trip to Ligura Beach and the Siroco restaurant. It's a Greek beach, and there were few European tourists there. It's a small bay, and there are only a few tavernas and cafes.

The meal was good Bifstek (beef patties) and chips, Octopus, Salad and wine. On the house fare consisted of a carafe of Raki, plate of fruit, a panacotta, and a piece of cake (again, moist). We enjoyed it, but all wind has disappeared and the mossies were out for a feast! Slim pickings on Golly and friends!



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