On another day, we all (including Reinhardt’s brother Ziggy) drove around to Monemvasia, which is an island about 400 meters off the coast from the village of Yephira. Consisting of a solid lump of rock with sheer cliff faces rising 300 meters high to the plateau above and running 1.8 km’s long, it was the site for a wondrous Byzantine fortress settlement. It has been one of the most fought over parts of Greece in its 1500-year life span.
From where it stands all shipping travelling around the Greece coastline was visible and hence its strategic importance was crucial to any one wanting to command the seas and protect the land approaches. It is Greece’s own Rock Of Gibraltar.
I think it has had about 6 different owners in its history with the main ones being Venetians, Turks and most recently of all the Germans during WWII until liberated and placed under US and UK control before being returned to Greece. Goths, Slavs and Avars also had a run here although the not so fortunate such as the Normans of Sicily and the Arabian pirate ships were never able to overcome the fortifications and turned tail and fled. From the top of the rock generals could direct sea battles using mirrors to their ships down below to ward off marauding invaders by out manoeuvring the opposition’s ships. In a time of sail and rowing a galley’s precise manoeuvring was everything. If the cannon balls didn’t get them then the battering rams on the prows of the ship would hole them and send them to the deep six. Not good if you were an oarsman on the galley being chained and manacled to your oar and seat. The rock’s lofty vantage also allowed them to hurl their cannon balls down on the vessels below. The Turks at one point managed to drag cannons up to the hills on the main land during one assault and lobbed cannon fire onto them from 2 miles away. All around the island there are broken pieces of cannon ball casings lying in the undergrowth.
These days it is the foreigners who are rebuilding the “Gibraltar of Greece”. The beauty, the romanticism and the faded glory of this once important strategic location allures tourists in the thousands. In the summer months there is a hydrofoil direct from Athens to Monemvasia. From the entry portal in the Lower Town you can meander along the sea wall bastions and into the narrow little streets with their vaulted shop fronts and cobble stone streets. Everything in the town is quite expensive, particularly the restaurants, as all supplies have to be brought in by donkey from the village of Yephira. They are slowly rebuilding shops and houses in the Lower Town but progress is slow for building materials as well are brought by donkey. It is like stepping back into a bygone era, a dream state where you have to keep pinching yourself (or someone else if they have a cute backside), to believe that it actually exists. I think I was more taken by it all than by the Acropolis probably because it was still functioning and you can see it as it is meant to be and feel the associated vibes.
Every street seems to contain a church, which began life as one religion, was altered to a mosque by the Turks and then renovated back again. Tides of change have washed over this settlement to such a huge extent that it is impossible to ignore it. It is such a strange eclectic mix of so many cultures and periods. As you leave the Lower Town you walk up a cobblestone path that zigzags its way up the face of the cliffs through a variety of stone gateways, these doorways are covered in metal strips and still bearing pock marks from musket balls and other assorted shrapnel chunks. It is the only way to the top with all other approaches being 300 meter high near vertical cliffs. The defences were brutal, with boulders, boiling oil, arrows, spears and cannon fire and the like all raining down on the pathway from above to repel invaders. On some of the gateways, if you made it to the doors, they had small caves recessed in the cliff face so that archers and infantry could fire at you from behind as you tried to break through the doors.
Across the top of this remarkable rock are the ruins of an entire city. At the peak of its existence over 50,000 people lived on the rock. Few buildings remain today. One is the old commanders house with the stairs outside leading up to the top of the battlements, where he would stand on a platform to direct the battle down below, maintaining sweeping views along the whole of the cliff face approach. Another is the Roman garrisons quarters and the other is the Church of Hagia Sophia built in the 13th century perched on the northern cliff top. The church was originally a monastery but after being altered to a mosque by the Turks and the alignment of the transepts made to face east towards Mecca, they then proceeded to give it a domed roof with a crescent moon attached to the spire on top of it. Further changes took place after the Turks were evicted and original stained glass windows taken out by the Turks were replaced and the transepts and alter restored to their former places. The roof remained like some mini version of Saint Paul’s Cathedral minus the crescent moon spire.
It was endlessly fascinating to walk around and Reinhardt, who goes there once a year to take time out when the tourists have all gone home, was able to point out some amazing features. As you can imagine, when the place was under siege for up to years at a time, water was an incredibly valuable commodity. They got around this by using the slopes of natural rock on top bordered by stone and mortar walls to capture rainwater, from where it ran down into gigantic stone cisterns for storage. The town had 3 main cisterns and some had been extended by covering the land around the rock slopes with a plaster mixture. Every household had its own cistern and one member of each family was responsible for the upkeep of it. There was a supervisor who would visit every house on a regular basis to check that the cistern was 100% in order and clean. If anyone was found to not be taking pedantic pains to maintain it, they were dragged out into the street and beheaded in front of the rest of the family. Another member of the family would be nominated to take over and so on. Food was also a major problem and although they maintained vast stores of grain and oil etc. they were reduced on some of the longer sieges to eating the local cats, rats and seabirds. Nothing is wasted here.
All in all it was a magnificent day, even the weather played ball and we had sparkling blue seas, a deep rich azure blue sky and a lot of fun. I took 3 rolls of film as we wandered around and they have turned out to be the best pics of the trip. We spent a total of about 6 hours then went back down to the local village and had a wonderful taverna lunch of fresh seafood and cold Mythos beer. Yummmmm! This was not a siege and there was no cats, rats or seabirds on the menu. Not on this sunny afternoon anyway. If you ever go to Greece, go to Monemvasia. You will never regret it.
After leaving Monemvasia we travelled a little further around the coast to a small fishing village named Jerakas or Xerax. It has the honour of being the hometown of Telly Savalas, Kojak to some, can you dig it pussycat! It all looked remarkably quiet and the only sign of life was an old couple on the front veranda of their cottage, sitting there as Ma gave Pa a haircut. One would have thought that the entire village would have shaved their heads in honour of the town’s own son.
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