Chora, and back
This morning we took the bus from the port/harbour (Patitiri) up to the old town, or Chora, (or Hora depending on how you want to turn your Greek into English. My Greek remains limited to a few very basic works, but I am starting to make an effort to at least look at words written in Greek and think how they might be written in the English alphabet, but I digress.)
A ten minute, and 1.80 euro each, bus ride from “town” delivered us to the Chora to be rewarded with magnificent sea views and a charming village of old buildings and cobbled streets tumbling through the town. We spotted a swallows nest, with youngsters big enough soon to fly the nest – perhaps an apt metaphor as we find out tomorrow what our youngest has scored in his final exams and his degree classification.
For all its charm an beauty, the Chora has been touched by tragedy. In 1965 it was hit by an earthquake, with many inhabitants forced to live in tents for two years before being made to move down to the port of Patitri. Life – and residents – have returned to the Chora, but we saw more than one dilapidated building for sale, and one begins to dream ….
More poignantly, we encountered a memorial to 9 citizens of Alonnisos that were put to death in the second world war, an important reminder of man’s inhumanity to man, and must not be forgotten.
The busses to and from the Chora are not frequent, so we walked back to Patitiri down the old donkey path, a wide cobbled path that wound its way down through the countryside. It was a pleasant “amble”, if somewhat hot, and after about 30 mins we stumbled back into town and rewarded ourselves with our first gyros of the trip.
And then we found a new swimming spot. Not the easiest to access, and all surrounded by rock, but there was a ladder to allow you to get into and out of the water. (Although, of course, I found an alternative way into the water …)
Swimming in the infinity of the deep blue sea, surrounded by pine clad cliffs, I was in heaven.
