When I write a travel article, I follow this approach: in the pre-writing phase, I don’t visit the place in situ, but rather in vitro, through relevant websites, features, and books related to my topic. I write my article as if I had been to that specific place, through the eyes of others. And then I take the trip. When I return, I tear up the original article. Because now my perspective is different and my focus has changed. An islander sees the mountain differently—it seems intimidating, threatening, and more precipitous than the cliffs he saw in his nightmares—than someone who was born and raised in the mountains – for him, the climb is equivalent to a liberating flight, like looking at the sun with the naked eye. That’s what happened with this article. Once again, Anna was behind the camera, and I was with my pencil and paper, writing about the Agrafa (“the Unwritten”). But can the Agrafa be written about? The form is paradoxical, and so is our life.

“All the villages of Agrafa constitute an autonomous region, which is administered by a council based in the famous town of Neochori, near the Nevropoli plateau. No Turkish family is allowed to live in the villages of Agrafa, except for Fanari. The inhabitants of the lowlands and mountainous areas communicate freely.”

Εγένετο εν Ταμασίω τη 10η Μαΐου 1525

Perhaps this explains historically the rebellious spirit of the inhabitants, as the Treaty of Tamasios of 1525 recognized the autonomy of the villages of Agrafa. Despite the mandatory payment of annual taxes, a period of great economic and intellectual development began in the region. The prevailing freedom attracted many fugitives from Turkish rule who, together with local warlords, formed bands of thieves. Katsantonis and Georgios Karaiskakis were active there, taking over the leadership of Agrafa until 1824.

As a small lesson in geography, it is worth mentioning that the Agrafa region consists of the northern part of the prefecture of Evrytania and the western part of the prefecture of Karditsa. While the Evrytania Agrafa were liberated in 1832, the Thessaly Agrafa remained under Turkish rule until the annexation of Thessaly in 1881, taking part in three revolutionary movements (1854, 1866-69, and 1878).

However, the landscape that the military leaders gazed upon bears no resemblance to today’s image. We decide to focus on the dam, on the before and after, to narrow the scope and dig deeper. The aim of this feature is therefore the Tavropos Dam and its creation, the lake.

The lake before it became a lake

In the area where the calm waters of Lake Plastira now lie, there used to be the “great plain,” the plateau of Nevropolis. This plain was the source of Tavropos, one of the tributaries of Achelos, known in Slavic as Megdovas. If we consider that “nevros” in ancient Greek means fawn, we can draw safe conclusions about the fauna of the Nevropolis area. Here, too, I couldn’t resist looking up the verse from the Iliad (Th 247-248) to find Zeus’ omen: αὐτίκα δ᾽ αἰετὸν ἧκε τελειότατον πετεηνῶν, νεβρὸν ἔχοντ’ ὀνύχεσσι, τέκος ἐλάφοιο ταχείης (an eagle clutching a fawn with its talons, the offspring of a swift doe).

Beyond deer, the Nevropolis plateau played an important role in the activities of the inhabitants. The archival photographs preserved in the Plastiras Museum depict the era before the waters covered the plain. The “pazariaki st’ Aspro Litharia,” a famous open-air bazaar and festival held in Nevropolis on August 22 according to the old calendar, is a picture of yesterday. The site of the bazaar is now the bottom of the lake.

Nevropolis even had an airport before it was turned into a lake. And not just any airport, but a ghost airport! Once again, history is intertwined with geography, both of which are linked to human geography and patriotism. The Thessalian Agrafa mountains are the heart of the Resistance, as this is where the guerrilla forces of ELAS and EDES are based. For the needs of the war and communication with the Allied Headquarters in the Middle East, the British built an airport on the Nevropolis plateau. The first Allied aircraft—a military Dakota—landed there in occupied Greece on August 9, 1943, while on the same night, the same plane departed for Cairo with a delegation from the EAM (National Liberation Front) including Saraphis, Svolos, and Roussos. According to the vivid account of Ilias Nasiakos, a native of the area, in the summer of 1943, many people from the surrounding area worked on the project. They filled in the ditches, leveled the hills, and even buffaloes were enlisted to carry gravel. The pay was one pound for three days’ work. In Korona, there was a Greek police outpost to give signals so that they would not be detected by the Germans. At night, the planes were guided by fires and storm lamps, dropped their packages, and flew away. During the day, the airport disappeared, as the runway was camouflaged and turned into a “forest.”

Residents and rebels “planted” cut trees, covered them with foliage, and loaded carts with grass so that from above they looked like bushes or shrubs. The airport was invisible and was never located by the Germans. In retaliation for the resistance activity, the Germans and Italians burned many villages in the area.

Now all of this lies at the bottom of the lake. Even if someone wanted to locate the past beneath its waters, it would be practically impossible. The lake is not clear. Below 15 meters, everything is blurred. The past is now preserved only in stories.

The Black Rider and the conception of the idea

Nikolaos Plastiras was born in Morfovouni in 1883. A brilliant figure in modern history, a hero on the battlefield, a patriot, a fighter, a visionary. Exemplary in his impartiality, modesty, frugality, and selflessness. A perceptive and daring military man, he had a fatherly love for his soldiers. A characteristic of his character is that, coming from the Asia Minor front, he adopted and supported four refugee children. It is no coincidence that the refugees had his photograph in their icons – they called him “Saint Nicholas of the Refugees” – nor that they gave their children the baptismal name Plastiras. “One day this will become a lake,” he is said to have remarked in 1925, when he visited his hometown after catastrophic floods and continuous rainfall. At Easter 1927, Plastiras organized the first visit by experts to the site where the dam stands today, presenting his idea at a time when Greece’s technical capabilities were limited. From then until his death, he passionately supported the project, highlighting the multiple national benefits it would bring.

We searched Morfovouni for Plastiras’s house and learned about his selflessness: he had neither property nor a home; his personality was a form of sainthood. “Everything I am, I owe to my origins, to my humble village. That is what sent me into the struggle. I never betrayed it.” He died in 1953 with his only possessions being a few coins in a worn pair of trousers and twenty-three sword wounds and nine bullet marks on his battered body. It goes without saying that he should be a timeless role model for politicians and citizens alike. Unfortunately, however, what is self-evident is not always self-evident…

The infrastructure and the old kitchen

As impressive as the dam itself is, so is the infrastructure project. It is a technical marvel, as the infrastructure was literally non-existent. Today, the silos where the cement was poured remain. Along the river in Tavropos, the forest road passes through Galaria and other construction site remnants—irrefutable witnesses to human labor—and ends in Anthiro, about 5 kilometers away.

Three shifts worked on the dam every day, each with 500 people. Today, in the absolute tranquility of the lake landscape, it is difficult to imagine the hustle and bustle that prevailed in the area during the time of the great project. Some of the Public Power Corporation buildings have been preserved, but most were demolished after the work was completed. The tavern “To Fragma” (The Dam), owned by the Deligiorgis family, the canteen where the crews ate, is a reminder of the old days. The sign gives it away: “1955, Charilaos Deligiorgis.” We sit down, with Nikos Xydakis’s song bringing the images of yesterday to life: In the restaurant where the crews ate, your theme came up, just like that, in jest. Seven assistants and three master craftsmen with them and the waiters. Markos, one of the sons of the family, proudly shows us an old debt book. It is a relic not only of the old kitchen but also of the dam. You leaf through its yellowed and worn pages and your mind wanders to the emaciated men, all hard workers, with calloused hands and rough fingers, people of the land, without technical knowledge, who served a gigantic project and completed it in just four years. The French, Italians, and Germans were in overall command, but they managed to communicate with the locals without creating a modern Tower of Babel.

The Public Power Corporation (ΔΕΗ) and the dam

With intense political instability and the rekindling of the National Schism after 1932, any prospect of building a dam was canceled. Finally, during the Plastiras administration in 1952, the study for the construction of a hydroelectric project was commissioned to the company KNAPPEN PRRETTS ABBET ENGINEERING Co. Within four years, from 1955 to 1959, six years after Plastiras’s death, the titanic project of electrification was completed. And behold the technical marvel! An impressive concrete structure, an elegant arch that seems to embrace the enormous volume of water in the lake, the Dam, 220 meters long, a modern Atlas holding back the waters of Tavropos with his arms, connecting the two steep slopes of the gorge. The N. Plastiras Hydroelectric Station, with an installed capacity of 120 MW, began operating on October 10, 1962. Today, the dam is managed by the Public Power Corporation.

The reactions and the price

There were many objections to Plastiras’s grand vision. The priest of the village of Kastania was at the forefront of the reactions. The people of Acarnania were the first to fear that there would not be enough water for their irrigation needs. In Pezoula, Plastiras’s mother tried in vain to dissuade him, so that the villagers would not lose their land. Associations of “dispossessed” people, with identical statutes, claimed and ultimately obtained large compensation payments during the expropriation. Despite the reactions, the waters of Tavropos were tamed, the lake began to fill with water, and the first rains fell. And then the problem arose of communication between the villages that had lost their land access. Necessity and business acumen gave birth to the solution. Without any special knowledge or safety measures, with the slogan “Mitsogiannis is coming,” lake transport was provided by boat on the Tsardaki-Neochori route. And so, in December 1959, on the lake’s first birthday, the price was paid. Like the master builder’s wife, sacrificed for the great public work, and like her sisters, one of whom built the Danube and the other the Euphrates, here too 20 people, mainly workers from Neochori, drowned in the lake, perpetuating the legend.

A new cosmogony: Lake Plastira

Lake Tavropos is its official name, but don’t look for it under that name. Call it Lake Plastira to be sure. It is the most successful example of human intervention in nature, as it is 100% a technical achievement, but 1000% natural in its beauty. Snow-covered or green, in autumn or spring, Lake Plastira offers images of rare beauty in a pandemonium of colors, landscapes, and sensations. The identity of the lake today is given through numbers and data, perhaps useful to those who love numbers: maximum length 12 km, maximum width 4 km, total surface area 24 km², containing 400 million cubic meters of water, with a maximum depth of 60 m and a maximum altitude of 750 m. But all this is completely useless if you climb up to the Observatory. You immediately forget it when you gaze not only at the lake but also at the back of the dam, which plunges 83 m vertically between the rocks. From Moucha, the last settlement before the dam, you can admire the fjords of the lake and the verdant island of Niaga, which is becoming an important game reserve. Climb up and observe the valley of Tavropos, the dam, the facilities, the grandeur of the lake, and come closer to the peaks of Agrafa. From here, you can imagine the ghost airport and feel the vision of Plastiras. And if you gaze while chewing on a batina or the famous fake, then the view will remain unforgettable.

You can even see the head of the Sleeping Woman of Agrafa. Every place that respects itself preserves and maintains its legend. Maroula Kliafa records the legend of the Sleeping Woman of Agrafa, this unique natural monument, visible from almost the entire plain: During the years of Ottoman rule, a mother with five children lived in a village in Agrafa. The Turks kidnapped her two boys and made them janissaries, giving them Turkish names: Borler and Asman. The boys grew up, became pashas, and fought against their former fellow villagers who had rebelled. Both were killed in the clashes on the mountain peaks. Since then, the grieving mother has disappeared. But if you look at the ridge, you will see a woman lying down. Legend has it that the mother lay down there and died. The ridge that forms the figure of the Sleeping Woman consists of the peaks of Pente Pyrgoi, Flyntzani, Plaka, and Borlero.

The shores of the lake offer images of rare beauty with green meadows, “white sheep mountains,” and proud horses. If you are lucky enough to catch the sunset, when the golden veil of creation falls, you will truly feel like a “natural man,” in the sense given by Papadiamantis, one with nature, its very essence.

THE VILLAGES

When you visit villages at midday in summer, you are struck by the absence and inertia. At midday in summer, the villages are dead. The men lounge around drinking tsipouro in the square, the women are exhausted from their chores and the children’s cries, the animals are “zapped” by the sun, and everyone seeks refuge in their beds or in the shade. Not a soul is to be seen on the cobbled streets. Everyone submits to the midday siesta. Everyone except the cicadas. Their chirping welcomed us to the beautiful squares of the four villages we visited. Two of them are large and well-known: Morfovouni and Mesenikolas. The other two are small and less well-known: Portitsa and Moschato. All of them contributed the muscle power and determination of their inhabitants to achieve this great technical feat in record time, not only for that era of limited material resources but also for today.

Portitsa, like most of the villages around the lake, is now in decline, with no school and no children, amphitheater-shaped, with an unobstructed view of the plain. Moschato follows the same pattern. Except that it is crowned by the Monastery of Korona, which played an important role during the Ottoman occupation as the spiritual and religious beacon of Agrafa.

Morfovouni or Vounesi

Morfovouni is an amphitheatrical, picturesque village with an open view of the entire Thessalian plain. At the entrance to the village, you will see a warplane, a tribute to the memory of Squadron Leader Georgios Baltadoros. High up, in a specially designed area, on the rocks of Karaiskaki, flies the pre-revolutionary flag of Agrafa. A red cross on a white background, without dividing the flag into quarters, clearly influenced by the Crusaders. The klephts of Agrafa swore allegiance to this flag from the early decades of the 17th century until the Revolution of 1821. The flag can also be seen in the Plastiras Museum, where the mayor, Panagiotis Nanos, gave us a vivid tour. Visitors can see rare documents and photographs from the life and work of Plastiras and from life before and after the creation of the lake. It also has a remarkable library and printed archival material. One of the most important exhibits is the map showing the borders of the new Greek state, which pass through the villages of Kastania and Neochori. The residents, rebellious Agraphiotes, removed the boundary markers in December 1832, refusing to have half of them inside the borders and half outside. The map shows the shifted borderline.

Morfovouni is also the birthplace of Antonis Samarakis. There is a bust of him in the square, while the Cultural Center that bears his name has a library and a 300 m² hall, where various events are held. On the initiative of the municipality, the “Antonis Samarakis” Literary Competition is announced, an institution that gives young writers the opportunity to compete with each other and distinguish themselves. As the birthplace of Plastiras, Morfovouni organizes the “Plastiria” festival every August in his memory, with various cultural and sporting events.

Mesenikolas

Legend has it that Monsieur Nicolas, during the Venetian occupation around 1455, found himself in Agrafa after his regiment was disbanded. He settled in this village, bringing with him French wine culture and his love for viticulture. He gave his name to the village, which was probably not small, since it was called Polichni. It is amphitheatrical, with a road cutting it in half and an unlimited view of the plain. There is a Wine and Vine Museum here that is worth visiting. The shady double square below the church of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary only comes to life in August, even though it is so close and easily accessible from the town center. Look for the ideal shade there for your midday rest.

Today, Mesenikolas and other villages are in decline. They are unable to discover the potential they can regain. Young people want to leave. Giorgos Karamitros is a shining exception. Mesenikolas owes its name to the award-winning red wine of the Karamitros family, with its impressive square bottle-jewel. Four generations of winemakers and nothing is left to chance. Aesthetic sensibility and passion that emerge like the opening of an aged wine. Artistic flair, from the packaging of the wines to the choice of their names: “Deucalion,” from the name of the Thessalian king who survived the flood and gave life back to the human race. It symbolizes the Thessalian who carves out a new beginning to exorcise the ever-present Ianos. George Karamitros does not even allow his barrels to be dusted as they age in the cellar. “When we say aging, we mean it,” he says with a laugh. Furniture, antiques, painted barrels, crystal glasses, photographs of ancestors, and a tasting room in the works. Local varieties, such as Limnionas, Batiki, Roditis, and Mavro Mesenikola. It’s nice to meet people who love what they do so much.

TRAILS & HIKING ROUTES

The beautiful mountains of the area are ideal for hikes of varying degrees of difficulty. There are mountain refuges to serve hikers. The trails are marked for safe hiking, in a stunning environment of dense, lush forests, with species that vary depending on the altitude, rich fauna, and unique views.

The route we followed: Mikri Limni – Portitsa – Moschato – ΔΕΗ.

We started from Mikri Limni. It is a regulating lake, a rectangular reservoir, which from a distance looks like an Olympic-sized swimming pool, supplying water to the entire plain, Karditsa, and its villages. We visited the archaeological site under the green canopy, next to the reservoir. It is a temple of Apollo, which burned down in the 2nd century BC. The columns are brown, of various styles and from various periods. The poor quality of the marble detracts from the grandeur of the building. However, the Archaeological Museum of Karditsa preserves impressive finds from inside the temple, such as a bronze statue of a soldier and a clay horse’s head.

We followed route B30, through vineyards and olive groves. A wide dirt road, with reflective signs showing the way. After 8 minutes, we came to a crossroads with two options, fortunately not like those of Hercules: Moschato on the right, Portitsa on the left. We decided to go left. We travel 2.2 kilometers among country houses, accompanied by the barking of watchful guard dogs, which look fierce but wag their tails. We pass the village of Panorama and a farm with goats. After 7 minutes, we turn left, following the signs, and cross a 100-meter forest road until we come across the remains of an old cobbled path, the one that connected Portitsa with Karditsa. We are welcomed by a trio of turtles, as if to compensate us for the presence of Ianos: a section of the trail destroyed by a landslide just before the ascent to the village, among skulls, oak trees, and black pines. We tasted blackberries and elderberries, were tasted by some insects, the “davanakia,” and went to quench our thirst at the fountain below the little church of Agios Prokopios in the square of Portitsa.

Portitsa – footbridge

From the upper part of the square, we chose the middle road and, walking through the village, we climbed uphill to the left, heading for the footbridge. To our right was the plain and the reservoir, and to our left and right were oleanders. In 12 minutes we reached the footbridge, with its panoramic view of the Thessalian plain. Between the two villages was the water pipeline. Its color was gray, different from yesterday, as it had not been maintained. We sat on the footbridge and lay down on the warm cement around the pipeline. When it got dark, the Public Power Corporation (ΔΕΗ) lights remained off to save money. “But the ΔΕΗ lights are off outside the ΔΕΗ factory?” we laughed, and to understand the magnitude of the project, we began to walk alongside it.

Footbridge – Moschato

Following route B30 in the heat of summer, in August, we suddenly found ourselves in front of a natural air conditioner. The path was covered and shady, strewn with crispy, fragile leaves, surrounded by oregano, oak trees, myrtles, and holm oaks. We crossed a stream with very little water, framed by plane and chestnut trees, accessible in autumn, and took the long uphill road that leads to Moschato. The village is amphitheatrical, with vineyards at its feet, hence the name “Moschato,” and an impressive cemetery at its entrance. What impressed us? The wooden crosses on the graves. We saw them in the cemetery in Morfovouni, as well as the sign with the collective decision of 2013 to build monuments on the graves using only wooden materials. Kidomai means to care for. The last care is the funeral. Wood is more friendly for our encounter with the soil.

Moschato – ΔΕΗ

We headed down towards the ΔΕΗ Hydroelectric Power Station. We were welcomed by the director, Amalia Stafila, in a beautiful outdoor area surrounding the factory, an elegant park dominated by a statue of Nikolaos Plastiras. The Hydroelectric Station, called upon in the height of summer to meet the increased needs for the final watering of the plain, operates on a 24-hour basis from the end of July to the end of August. The building, which is aesthetically impressive, is open to visitors, but during operating hours the noise is very loud, almost unbearable. We saw workers wearing earplugs among the facilities. Here, you have to be skilled at lip reading to understand what is being said.

The artistic side of the dam. Karditsa Municipal Art Gallery

Focusing our theme on the dam, we visited the Karditsa Municipal Art Gallery. We toured the group exhibition “METAICHMIA” with great interest, featuring paintings, engravings, drawings, photographs, and constructions that explore the natural environment, humans, and their relationships with each other. A sequence of variables where the new meets the old, coexists, interacts, and defines each other. The curator of the Gallery, Maria Giannelou, guided us through the space and immediately directed us to the source of our interest: the dam and its creation, the lake. The three paintings by Kostas Pavlos (1914-1962) and the three by Dimitris Gioldasis (1897-1993), all oil paintings on plywood, visually record the work on the dam and the construction site. Beyond the enormous historical testimony, the visual representation of the work pays tribute to the toil and labor of ordinary citizens. It is an epic of everyday life. Despite the common theme, the two painters differ in their visual approach, thus illuminating the subject from different angles. Kostas Pavlou, who calls himself Paul, visually presents the grandeur of the technical work, depicting the technical achievement that was realized by the ordinary residents of the area in record time as a collaboration of mind and labor. Dimitris Gioldasis, constantly travelling from Morfovouni to the major cities of the world, perhaps responding to his surname (yoldaş in Turkish means companion), depicts the same theme, highlighting from a naturalistic perspective the result of the technical achievement, which is none other than the lake of incredible natural beauty. The technical work of both painters is presented as a work of art.

Archaeological Museum

In closing this tribute to the region, it would be remiss not to mention, even briefly, the Archaeological Museum of Karditsa. It is a jewel of a museum, with a beautiful layout of exhibits in chronological order, a modern atmosphere, and passionate and loving staff. It is rich in finds, as the area is considered one of the original centers of Neolithic civilization, with the most recognizable element being the “magoulas.” In the magoula display case, with windows that open with a photocell as soon as the visitor approaches, the question “What do we find inside a magoula?” is answered in the text by G. Chourmouziadis: Tools, broken pots, figurines, bones, ruins of houses, human graves emerge from the disturbed soil… Archaeologists can tell whole stories about these finds… We shape these stories. We shape them with soil.

The people

Whenever you visit a place, you either discover everything on your own or you are accompanied by a local, an insider or an expert who opens your eyes. Our guide throughout the trip was Antonis Papadakos, a member of the Greek Mountaineering Association of Karditsa and one of the founding members of the Social Cooperative Enterprise (Koin.S.Ep.) “Oxygen of Agrafa.” The aim of those involved in this cooperative is to open and maintain trails, to preserve and enrich not only the natural environment but also the cultural heritage of the region, to promote nature exploration and activities, and even to promote agricultural and food products. They oppose anything that disturbs the balance of mountain life for people, animals, and plants, whether it be wind turbines or motocross. The promotion of mountain biking is among their immediate plans. Together with Nikiforos Bakaros, we walked along the trails. Christos Koimas, manager of the Thessalikon Grand Hotel, my fellow countryman, extremely helpful and polite, emphasized the value of historical knowledge and geography as tools for understanding the present. Euripides, of the Giovanis family, runs the family confectionery and is breathing new life into it with rare coffee blends. In the Hatzopoulos family workshop, Vangelio and Konstantina rolled out dough in front of the display window. Twelve layers of finely rolled dough are needed for the herb pie. Two on the bottom, three on top, and the rest in the middle. Six sheets of galatopita. And as for the lazy man’s pie, without any sheets, that’s the “batzina”.

Ianos

In the discussions we had everywhere and with everyone, we heard the familiar refrain: Ianos ruined everything; before Ianos, it was like this, after Ianos, it is different. And indeed, Ianos, the two-faced god, changed the lives of the inhabitants abruptly, radically, and for some fatally, in September 2020. The basements and ground floors of the Art Gallery, the Archaeological Museum, the Karamitros wine cellar and winery, the trails opened by the mountaineering club, and so much more were left at the mercy of this god’s dual personality. Even the microgeography of the place changed. The Mediterranean cyclone Ianos was a great test that left its mark on the entire city, a great wound that has not yet healed.

However, the dam, unscathed by the confrontation with Ianos, withstood and continues to withstand the storm, providing gentle energy and lasting benefits to the area. Perhaps Plastiras’s realized vision will be an opportunity for reflection and introspection, to readjust priorities and raise awareness of environmental risks, especially nowadays, when a sense of moderation is being lost and the search for energy sources is more relevant than ever.