Visiting the Villages: Vathia

Pirates and invaders. Warring clans. Fortified towers. The legends of Vathia are captivating and plunge you into an era of the past. Vathia was built as a fortress to protect its families from hostile attacks. A sign in the midst of this “ghost village” alludes to its history:

My first introduction to the tower villages of Mani was in 2014 when Giannis Michalakakos took Gregory Kontos and me to Vathia. My fascination has not waned, but accelerated. It’s not only the architecture, but also the stories, myths, customs, and traditions of this land that captivate my imagination.

My ancestors were from Mani, as reflected in their surnames and in family stories. Their genesis in this region and their migration north began before the revolution of 1821, as they are in Agios Ioannis, Sparta in the 1844 Election Registers. Because records prior to the Revolution do not exist in the modern Greek state, I cannot trace where, in Mani, they originated. However, every time I come to this region, I feel a metaphysical connection to this land and to them.

The tower houses of Vathia are classic Maniot fortification architecture

These tower houses are owned by families. The size of the tower demonstrated the family’s wealth and standing in the community. They are built close to each other, with small alleys as separations. Most of them are square with two or three floors. The windows are just large enough for guns and armaments to protrude outwards in times of defense. The inhabitants of Mani are legendary for fiercely resisting foreign invasions. They maintained their independence for centuries.

The alleyways of Vathia

During the Ottoman period, Maniots continued to resist Ottoman rule. They preserved a degree of autonomy and the Ottoman beys (rulers) let them be. Maniots were known for their military acumen and martial skills, and their resistance played a significant role in the 1821 War of Independence. As with all Greek villages, monuments to the fallen are found in the plateia, across from the church.

Monument photos courtesy of Nick Santas, whose great-grandfather, Panagiotis Laos, is listed

Names on the War Monument
Top:
Georgakakos, Antonios
Georgakakos, Petros
Exarchakos, Panagiotis
Laos, Panagiotis
Kallidonis, Petros
Lagoudakos, Nikolaos
Feidopiastis, Fotios
Gerakakos, Stavros
Gerakakos, Nikolaos
Lagoudakos, Panagiotis
Syggikos, Petros
Bottom:
Anaroutsakos, Spyros
Mitsakos, Ioannis
Stravokefalos, Michail
Andreakos, Nikolaos
Xypolitos, Michail
Xypolitos, Panagiotis
Kallidonis, Leonidas
Aggelakos, Aristeidis
Xypolitos, Vasileios
Giannakakos, Panagiotis
Koutrigaros, Antonios

Maniot families evolved from clans which controlled various regions. There are many stories written about the loyalty and protection that clans provided for their families. Conflicts between clans were common, and some clan wars continued for years. This article provides historical background and names of the clans of Vathia.

Bright spots of color amidst the stone towers

After Greece gained independence from the Ottomans in 1830, Vathia, like other parts of Mani, experienced a decline in its strategic importance. The tower houses gradually lost their defensive purpose and many fell into disrepair. Around 1950, after World War II and the Greek Civil War, families left rural areas to reestablish themselves in urban areas where economic opportunities existed. People abadoned their tower homes for Kalamata, Sparta, and Piraeus. By 1960-1970, the village was deserted.

I asked my friend, Giannis Michalakakos, local historian and author of the Maniatika blog, if the tower houses would ever be restored, especially with the current surge in tourism that Mani is experiencing. His answers helped me understand both the complexities of this issue and the culture of the society.

Homes are primarily abandoned because of financial considerations:
• It was common for many members of a family (cousins) to have partial ownership in a tower; sometimes as many as 40!
• If many parties had an interest in a house, and one person wanted to be the sole owner, he would have to have enough money to buy out all the other parties.
• If a person wanted to restore an abandoned home, he may have to buy out others who would have to agree to sell it, AND spend a lot of money to refurbish the home. Therefore, if financial matters were a concern, it is easier to just abandon a home than to deal with ownership and renovation issues.
• To sell a house to an outsider of the family, a title is needed. Years ago, oral agreements were made within and among families when buying, selling or partitioning a house. In times past, a man’s word was his honor and official documents were not required, nor were they needed. Such transactions occurred in the local cafenion (coffee house), where witnesses would attest to the validity of the agreement and be called upon if there was ever a conflict.
• There may have been a past agreement, still in full force, that a house would never be sold.
• If a house was renovated strictly for tourism, that season is short and the family would need other sources of income. In the area of Vathia, that does not currently exist.

This explanation made sense, but it also made me sad. Such an area, so rich in history and so incredibly wild and beautiful, should be renovated and preserved. The complications above make this difficult now, but in the future there may be resolutions that are not currently available. It is my hope that this will be.





Faneromeni Monastery: A Treasure in Stone

The southern Peloponnese is a study of construction by stone.The hardy people of this region took the least of God’s creations and formed uniquely beautiful edifices: churches, homes, buildings, wells, towers. Boxy and square, tall and narrow, the stone buildings of this region belie what may be inside. A perfect example is the Faneromeni Monastery, the first stop on a tour of Mani led by Papa Georgiou of Sparta last Saturday.

Without a road sign, one would never imagine that this unassuming building was a monastery.

Faneromenis Monastery, Mani

An inscription reveals that it was built in 1079 and dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It was  subsequently renovated in 1322-23 by Emperor Andronicus Palaeologus (Andronikos II Palaiologos). After the renovation, additional alterations were made which formed the building as it is seen today. The monastery was inhabited by nuns; the last one died a few years ago.

The interior of the church is stunning; the frescoes are captivating.

Interior of monastery church

The frescoes have been preserved from three different periods: 11th century, 1322-23 and early 17th century.

Papa Georgiou, accompanied by Father Konstandinos of Aeropolis, chanted a full liturgy service. Their voices sounded even more poignant when surrounded by the archaic faces on the walls.

Bread and wine at the conclusion of the liturgy

Having never been inside a monastery, I was curious and explored both inside and out. There is a central courtyard, a kitchen, dining area, and rooms for sleeping.

Looking down into the courtyard

This is the building where the nuns lived. As expected, the interior was “spartan.” But there was a corner cabinet which housed unexpected worldly treasures.

Living quarters, exterior

Sleeping area, interior

Worldly treasures

To me, the most amazing surprise of Faneromeni was its cave, situated to the left of the monastery, down a flight of stone steps.

Following the curve of the hill, I saw the opening, stepped inside and was stunned at what I saw–a mini-sanctuary complete with icons, candles and all required to hold an Orthodox service.

Church cave entrance

I marvel at the ingenuity and faith that created this sacred place! I stood inside for a long time, with so many questions and so many thoughts. It was the Orthodox Church which sustained the Greek peoples through 400 years of Ottoman rule. The astounding number of churches and monasteries in Greece is a testament to this fact.

The monastery grounds overlook the sea and provide a setting of tranquil beauty. It is easy to understand why this particular spot was chosen to house a building dedicated to God.

 

 

R&R: Gytheio

Rest and relaxation — time to get out of Sparta! After 2-1/2 weeks of long and tedious days handling dirty and moldy old documents, my body screamed for sun and surf. So I went where the locals go, south to Gytheio. It’s only 40 kilometers but a world away.

Homes on the hillside overlook the harbor, Gytheio, June 2018

Gytheio is the capital of Mani and the second largest city in Laconia.

Archaeological findings date Gytheio to ancient, even prehistoric, times. It has served as an important port for Sparta and the entire southern Peloponnese. Merchant ships bring in goods from foreign lands and take out olive oil and other products.

Boats moored in the harbor of Gytheio, June 2018

This city is a haven for tourists. I met people from the Netherlands and Germany, and I spotted several Americans. Sometimes when I speak Greek in public, people answer me in English. I once asked my friend, Giannis, why is it that people don’t think I am Greek–after all, I am a full-blooded Spartan and I was speaking the language. He replied that it is obvious that I am American. I thought that was an odd response until today, when it was easy to pick out Americans among native Greeks and Europeans, and they were not wearing jeans, white sneakers or tee shirts! Maybe we emanate a certain aura?

This is a fish-lovers’ haven, and fresh octopus was hanging everywhere, but not for me.

Not for me!

The city’s neoclassical buildings provide charming sophistication. Each one is distinct and different. The colors blend beautifully and give Gytheio its distinct look.  A lover of architecture could spend days here.

Each building is charming and unique.

As I wandered along the waterfront, I noticed a lighthouse situated on a promontory.

This point of land is actually the Kranai islet, connected to the city by a concrete walkway. It led to beautiful and surprising things!

A tiny church (of course!)

A fortress / castle / tower! This is the Tzanetakis Tower, built in 1829 by General Tzanetakis Grigorakis, who was one of the leading figures of the Grigorakis family of Eastern (Lower) Mani and a hero of the 1821 Revolution. One can only imagine what this building has witnessed. Its position on the island gives it a perfect view of the harbor and the city. The family continues to be prominent in contemporary Greece, and donated this tower to the government. It is now a museum but unfortunately was not open.

Tzanetakis Tower, Gytheio, June 2018

The tower commands a perfect view of the harbor and city.

The lighthouse looks fairly new, but the structures adjacent to it testify that a look-out building on this point has been in place for centuries.

Old and new, standing as sentinels to the harbor

As I sat on a rock and absorbed the spirit of this place, I noticed an unusual round, stone circular structure at the edge of the water–obviously historic and meaningful, but unknown.

Ancient, but unknown – obviously important

I sat for a long time, taking in the sea, the view and the history. I wonder: what was life like for people living here in the 1700’s, 1800’s and even before. This is a land of rock and stone. There were pirates patrolling the seas, invasions by Turks, Venetians and others; there were vendettas among families and wars among clans. And of course, there were other harsh realities of life and the forces of nature–all combined to make Mani a very difficult place in which to exist.

But countering all this is the sea. And today, Mani’s beaches draw people worldwide who seek respite from the challenges of their own lives. Spending an afternoon in this environment of serenity and beauty is rejuvenating and refreshing.

Mavrovouni Beach

This day was so very needed by my body and soul. A dip into history and a dip into the sea. I’m now ready to get back to work next week!

Magical Mani

Today is a national religious holiday in Greece known as Holy Spirit Monday which marks the end of the Easter cycle. Except for cafes and tavernas, all businesses are closed. Since I could not work, I drove to Nyfi in the Mani peninsula to visit my friend Giannis and his parents.

To Mani

I always, always love being in Mani. Although the land has been occupied (and has remained unconquered) for centuries, it appears to be wild and untamed. It speaks of  strength, independence, determination, and fortitude—characteristics of the people who have made it their home. The –akos suffixes of my ancestors’ names are indicative of Maniate origins. Whenever I set foot in Mani, my soul senses roots. I wish I could trace my ancestors back to here, but I can’t get out of Sparta!

Rugged Mani

Narrow roads twist in hairpin turns around towering mountains. Hundreds of feet below, the aquamarine sea shimmers. Around each corner appears an unexpected and often spectacular view.

Twists and turns, and gorgeous views

These zigzag roads are evocative of the twists and turns of life—sometimes the road veers into a corner where no sunlight is visible, and you wonder how long you must remain in darkness. Suddenly, you bank a curve and the brilliance of the sun reflecting on the sea sends your spirit soaring. Always, the light slices through the darkness, and hope and joy return. Here, the ying and yang of nature coexist perfectly.

Into the light

Sometimes the unexpected is a “door to nowhere.” Although this is the entry to a field, the land hugs the side of a mountain and counters any definition of farmland.

The door to nowhere

Maniate homes are built of stone and are as rugged as their people. These structures can withstand any tempest or force of nature.

House of stone

Churches everywhere! These small churches are built by families to commemorate a saint who is special to the family, or to give thanks to God. Giannis told me that this church was erected on the spot where two young people fell off the cliff–and survived!

Thanks to God for saving two children

Mani is known for its towers–fortresses built by families long ago. These edifices stand as sentinels against any threat by invading forces or pirates. They signify security and strength. They are unlike any other buildings in Greece.

Abandoned and partially destroyed tower

Nyfi, home of towers and the Michalakakos family

Before I returned to Sparta, Giannis had me drive a tiny narrow road down a mountainside to the “port” of Alipa. Actually, it is a cove, but it is called a port because this is where ships from Gytheio brought goods to this area until 1980, when a road was built connecting the two towns. Descending the road, there is no indication of life anywhere. Then the magic of Mani happens–suddenly, crystal water and brilliant sunshine appear. You have arrived in a special place of light and beauty. A small taverna anchors the end of the road. One church sits on the left, and another on the right, flanking the “port” and a few houses.

Secluded port of Alipa

The serenity of the environment lured me into a state of non-activity. I was perfectly content to sit, gaze and chat–and this is certainly not me!

Guest house in Alipa

As difficult as it is to leave Mani, it will always be here–unspoiled in all its glory–when I return.

Return to Greece, 2016. Part 8: Meandering in Mani

This is the eighth post in a series about my trip to Greece, June 30-July 20, 2016 — an amazing journey of history, family and discovery. Previous posts can be found here.

Mani. There’s something about this land that speaks to my soul. From the moment I left two years ago, I couldn’t wait to return. The forbidding mountains, expansive plains, and impenetrable stone structures exemplify resilience, fortitude, and never giving up. It is the land of some of my ancestral families. On my first trip to Greece years ago, a man at the Archives looked at my surnames and exclaimed, “Oh, your families are from Mani!” Then he looked at my husband and said without any humor, “Watch out! She’s a Maniot. She  comes from tough people.”

Since then, I have learned so much about these “tough people.” There’s a reason they are so strong and self-reliant. They have weathered the elements and tamed the forbidding soil. They repelled any potential invaders by using rustic, yet effective methods. The Turks never penetrated or conquered the Mani. Neither did the Nazis. The people hid in caves in the hills until danger passed, then returned to their villages and their simple lives. Although the spirit of independence from Ottoman rule had been simmering for years throughout Greece, the spark that ignited the Revolution was in Mani on March 17, 1821.

By al-Qamar - File:Peloponnese relief map-blank.svg, GFDL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36370154

By al-Qamar – File:Peloponnese relief map-blank.svg, GFDL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36370154

There are three regions in Mani:  “exo” or outer; “kato” or lower; “mesa” or inner. As the map clearly shows, the entire region is mountainous and sustains little vegetation except wild olive trees, cactus, and brush. Goats scrape by on the sparse grasses, and an occasional flat valley may support orange trees. Wild herbs such as sage and oregano fill the air with a tantalizing scent. Even during hot summers, cool breezes sweep the mountains.

I fulfilled a dream by driving the beautiful, winding road from Kalamata to Areopoli. My GPS estimated the driving time at 1-1/2 hours, but it took me seven. All I did was stop, take photos, and savor every unique site and beautiful view. Being alone, I was able to absorb the atmosphere and revel in the rugged beauty of the land. I felt so peaceful and happy as I drove. I feel like I belong here.

Driving from Kalamata to Areopoli; the mountains, July 2016

Driving from Kalamata to Areopoli – the mountains. July 2016


kalamata-to-aeropoli-9-07-16

Driving from Kalamata to Areopoli – the sea. July 2016


Kalamats to Areopoli - the buildings. July 2016

Kalamats to Areopoli – the buildings. July 2016

A major item on my Plan A was to visit the village of Pyrgos Lefktro in Messinia. I had been told by an elderly aunt that my great-grandfather, Andreas Kostakos, may have come to Sparta from “Pyrgos over the mountains.” This particular Pyrgos seems to be the most logical place. The village is literally at the top of the mountain. When the mountain road ended, I had to park my car and walk because the village “road” was actually a narrow cobblestone winding path, lined with what seemed like ancient stone homes. It was mid-afternoon when I arrived, so of course, not a soul was to be seen except a stray cat. I wandered all around the town, taking many pictures. I found the church, the cemetery, and even went into the osteofilakio (οστεοφυλάκιο), the ossuary building, and looked at the names on the boxes. I did not see anything that could possibly be Kostakos, but my great-grandfather would have left in the middle 1800’s. If he did come from here, there are no descendants remaining.

At the front of the village was a sign on a tree that read “500 years old”. It would have been in full leaf during my great-grandfather’s time.

500 year old tree, Pyrgos, Messinia. July 2016

500 year old tree, Pyrgos, Messinia. July 2016


Buildings in Pyrgos, which overlooks the sea. July 2016

Buildings in Pyrgos, which overlooks the sea. July 2016

There is a very old museum which was locked; there was no sign as to when it opens. I peered in the windows and was taken aback at the life-size figures in full costume, standing watch over the treasures of the village.

Museum in Pyrgos, Messinia. July 2016

Museum in Pyrgos, Messinia. July 2016

As I was leaving, I did see two elderly women sitting on a veranda. They beckoned me to join them. I asked if they had ever heard the Kostakos name in the village, but their answer was no. I wanted to ask what type of life they had led; what type of work their husbands did; how often they left the village to “go to town” (wherever that was, somewhere down the mountain). They had a hard time hearing me and my vocabulary is limited, so the conversation was limited to pleasantries. One of them blew me a kiss as I said goodbye.

Saying goodbye; Pyrgos, Messinia, July 2016

Saying goodbye; Pyrgos, Messinia, July 2016

Driving back down the mountain, I wondered if I may have come — literally — to the end of the road in trying to learn more about the origins of Andreas Kostakos. But I resolutely pushed that thought from my mind. I guess it’s the fighting Spartan and tough Maniot in me that just refuses to give up!

Continuing on the road to Areopoli, I found a settlement, Tzokeika, that is being reconstructed to portray a traditional Maniot village, including a tower, a church, individual homes and an olive press. How fascinating to walk through the buildings that are under construction! This is a living settlement, with people occupying houses. I spoke with a man who had moved in last year, and he was very enthusiastic about his new home, the beauty of the scenery, and the pleasures of living in a closely knit community.

The settlement of Tza

The settlement of Tzokeika, Messinia, July 2016


Tz

Tzokeika settlement, Messinia, July 2016

I was in Areopoli, the capital of Mani, by 7:00 p.m. It was Saturday evening and the town was filled to capacity with both locals and tourists. When I went to dinner at 11:00 p.m., I could not find an empty table. I love this village! It eneaeropoli-07-16rgizes me. The ambiance is lively, the buildings are beautifully maintained, and it is the home of a favorite bookstore, Adouloti (owned by Georgios Dimakogiannis). There are dozens of tavernas and cafes, and many unique shops. As are most Maniot villages, Areopoli is pure stone — buildings, roads, walkways. The starkness of the rock is punctuated by brilliantly colored flowers. It is a beautiful study in contrasts. Perched at the edge of the sea, the picturesque town is a visual and sensory delight.

Approaching Areopoli, a village by the sea. July 2016

Approaching Areopoli, a village by the sea. July 2016


Adouloti Mani Bookstore, Areopoli, July 2016

Adouloti Mani Bookstore, Areopoli, July 2016


Areopoli, July 2016

Areopoli, Laconia, July 2016


Areopoli, Laconia, July 2016

Areopoli, Laconia, July 2016

On the way back to Sparta, I stopped at Karavelas to see my friend, Margarita Thomakou, and visit her adopted village. Margarita and I had a delightful visit and a delicious lunch, made by her friend, Pietro. Pietro showed me a book about the history of the village. It is heartwarming to see that many villages in Laconia, even some of the smallest, have these wonderful histories.

Karvelas, Laconia, with Margarita Thomakou and Pietro, July 2016

Karvelas, Laconia, with Margarita Thomakou and Pietro, July 2016

My meanderings in Mani were almost over. The road to Sparta threaded through fertile plains, filled with orange and olive groves. Wild and lovely; fruitful and plentiful, this region of Laconia is truly the breadbasket of Greece.

On the road to Sparta, July 2016

On the road to Sparta, July 2016