A Visit to the Monastery

I had read about the monastery of Evangelistrias before we left for Skiathos. It dates from the end of the eighteenth century and has the honour of being the first place which flied the Greek flag during the war of independence from Turkey. It also boasts a current population of TWO monks. Not really knowing too much more about it we set off from Skiathos town in the monastery's own mini bus (fare 1 Euro 80) for the short but steep journey.
Many travel guides give directions for the walker to get to Evangelistrias but unless you've a) had intensive SAS training,  b) have masochistic tendencies or c) are a mountain goat I would thoroughly recommend the bus journey. Not only do you get some truly spectacular views of the south and east coasts of the island (and the islands of Skopelos and Alonissos) but you don't have to dive into a convenient ditch at a second's notice when two vehicles going in opposite directions try to squeeze past one another.
The journey took about half an hour and dropped us just outside the main doorway to the monastery. All around were slopes of pine with an occasional clearing of olive or vines. Through a gap in the trees we caught a glimpse of the quiet, natural and totally undeveloped north east coast of the island where some of the better beaches are only approachable from the sea. Of Evangelistrias itself there was very little sign - just a fairly plain, high wall, a path in front of it to the left and at the end a huge gateway.

Once through the gateway the true spectacle of the monastery was revealed. Before us was a courtyard with cages of song birds in them. Three bells hung from a gnarled frame, half hidden by vines and in the distance, to the right was the chapel with the most beautiful of Greek monastic chanting coming from its open windows. A lot of music from two monks I thought before concluding that the chanting was probably a recording (it was). Inside, the chapel gleamed with the reflected light from the many icons around the walls. The intricately carved wooden iconostasis was truly a work of devotion and skill. I can only speculate about how many hundreds of hours it must have taken the woodsmiths to chisel the perfectly executed scrolls and swirls of it. In front of the screen was a large basket containing sprigs of Greek basil. A small donation seemed appropriate for such a memorable souvenir of our visit. After a short walk around the chapel, a visit to the souvenir shop and a tour of the museum we had plenty of time left to just stand in the courtyard with the sun almost overhead listening to the chant and the bird song, watching the caged birds making a nest and wondering if there was really any other place we would rather be at that particular time.