Meteora

It is likely that most of you have seen a picture from Meteora. It is such a stunning setting that it makes its way into many photo feeds. It’s so otherworldly, that when I first saw it, I assumed the picture was a composite. Not so. It’s real.

This tiny locale has dozens of sandstone and aggregate columns that are hundreds of feet high and on which orthodox monks built their abodes. In a spectacular case of ‘get off my lawn’, the monks went further than the usual hermit fare of cave-home and used ropes and nets to access their clifftop houses. Do not come without an invitation.

There were 24 monasteries at the peak of inhabitance, but now only 6 are still functioning - the remains of the others are visible on peaks and in nooks as you walk around. In the 9 days we stayed in the small town of Kastraki, at the literal foot of these spire, we hiked through much of the area underneath these sites where the access trails are still used by Meteora Trail Running (MTR) and it was surprisingly difficult just to hike to the spire bases.

The remaining monasteries and nunneries, have improved their hospitality a bit, offering visiting hours and (relatively) newly built access stairs. Photos inside are not allowed, but the wooden winches and nets they used to move people and goods were on display, looking remarkably unsafe. We later read (wiki) that the ropes were only replaced "when the Lord let them break". Yikes.

The photographic opportunities in Meteora have been expansively covered by others, so none of these pictures are really unique. Also, we had only one sunset (all the other evenings were heavily clouded) and when we pulled up to the viewpoint, an enormous Greek on a miniscule moped waylaid us with a soliloquy (that was amazingly long for the small variety of words) about his mother’s kitchen, “MY MOTHER, BEST COOK. BEST IN KASTRAKI, ONLY 3KM”, while we politely missed the last rays. Ah, well.

The Roussanou Monestary

The Varlaam Monastery

At one of the Meteora viewpoints

Walking back from visiting the Monastary of the Holy Trinity

Monastery of the Holy Trinity

Varlaam and Grand Meteora Monasteries just after sunset

A Meteoran spire condenses cloud in its wake

The Monastery of St. Nicholas Anapausas

Children in the Mist [David Attenborough narrates]: “If you look closely, you can see that these children have chosen to trek in the rain without jackets. Let’s see if they complain about being cold and wet…”

The Roussanou Monastery from the MTR hiking trails

One of the many shallow caves, perfect for hermit-ing with ropes. The rain changed the color of the rocks from gray to vibrant green in the time we were there. Also, the hill in the background is where I went backpacking (keep reading), though it has snowed since I was there.

Rock climbers ascend past one of the derelict monasteries.

Joe explores

Rousanou in the sunlight

The peaks with the town of Kalambaka in the background

More cool cloud formation

We found one monastic ruin that was accessible. They had cut deep tunnels into the notch that were just big enough for one person to crawl through. At the end, the channel bifurcated into what seemed like sleeping holes.

Rousanou in fall color

The whole scene at once

The boys ascend one of the more sketch trails (inclined mossy rock)

Em declines to climb more incline

Joe does some bouldering

Sunshine peaks through on our last day

Joe surveys the forest behind the Meteoran spires. Remarkably colored, but topographically mundane.

Grecian Backpacking

Hah! You thought you were reading a post about a magical UNESCO site, but I snuck in backpacking anyway!

While surveying the topomaps of Meteora, trying to plan where we should walk to best enjoy the area, I noticed a ridgeline on the opposite side of the valley that holds Kalambaka with an unusual, elevated valley set in the ridge. Searching some more, I found a mountain hut and evidence that people camped in the area. Long story short, I downloaded some trail data and went backpacking there. I was lucky that the rest of the family declined to come, because the trail I had selected was not, in fact, a trail, but more like a creek bed on a 100% grade. Additionally, it took a torturous path up the mountain, because a nearby monastery (not blessed with natural GTFO features like the Meteorans) had erected an 8’ tall barbed wire fence around their chestnut forest. In the end I climbed 1400m (4600’) from the Pyli bridge to a campsite set just behind a peak that overlooked the plain of Thessaly.

The Pyli bridge

The bracken field at the start of the elevated valley. It drops off to the left, straight down to the bridge.

Lots of water, but as always in this land of limestone, it’s all at springs.

Forest sunlight

A Greek trail marker. Not sure why this isn’t blue and white.

When I got up to the valley, I started finding evidence of bears! That was a surprise.

The valley between peaks

Walking through the open terrain on my way to the peak. It looked like this area was heavily used for grazing in the summertime.

Camp. Even though I chose a site set back from the ridge peak, it was crazy windy that night. My trusty ZPacks Triplex was a cozy palace as always.

Sunrise over the Plain of Thessaly

On my way back and about to descend from the open fields to forest