12 minutes. That’s how long it took the small distance to cross the channel that separates Ammoudi from Riva, the cosmopolitan Santorini from the unknown Thirassia. It took us exactly the same time to mentally transport ourselves a few decades into the past. As we set foot in Riva we had the feeling that this is what Santorini would have looked like 50, 60 or more years ago.

There were seven of us and all the passengers. We disembarked at the small dock in seconds, with a single drag. I remembered, two days before, the moment of disembarkation at the port of Athenian. It’s all right. The ship’s people were shouting and gesturing to passengers and cars to unboard as quickly as possible. Stepping on land we were met by the whistles of the dockers and their orders to clear the way as quickly as possible. Immediately afterwards, more voices awaited us, loud too, but melodious. They came from the sympathetic class of “rumatzides”, three or four dozen lined up in rows, all with charming smiles, usually awful English, placards and signs with the names and fascinating photos of the Rooms. Another noise, equally seductive, emanated from the exhausts of the huge trucks, with the corresponding pollution and smell, of course. Once again, like so many others in the past, I wondered if this initial image, this first impression, should be reserved – especially for our foreign visitors – by one of the most famous destinations worldwide.

– Here you will calm down, says Charalampia Balopitou, President of the Community Department of Thirassia, as she welcomes us.

– As long as you don’t get bored, after the cosmopolitan Santorini, adds Matthew, her husband.

Nice people have already been notified of our arrival by the President of the Community of Oia, George Hallaris. For our travels around the island, Matthew is putting the Community’s tough 4×4 van at our disposal, which also acts as a fire truck if needed.

We leave the seaside settlement of Rivas, whose architectural character is not the most charming we have encountered, and head south towards the settlement of Manolas. Here things are different. Small houses, narrow streets and staircases, little ovens in the courtyards and peculiar chimneys, small windows that look like skylights, whitewashed walls that shine dazzlingly in the sunlight, other walls painted in bold colours. Almost always blue orange windows in various shades of blue. In most cases the windows flank the door symmetrically and form with it a cross-like shape.

It is very pleasant to walk through the narrow streets of Manolas, greetings and short conversations with the locals. They are all friendly and polite, recalling romantic images of unforgettable neighbourhoods, those small communities in towns or villages where everyone knew each other and greeted each other. That’s how we feel in the small picturesque grocery store, in the village bakery that still burns wood, outside the small courtyards or in the spotlessly clean concrete pedestrian street that runs along the longitudinal axis from north to south through the settlement. Manolas is actually built on the upper level part and on the volcanic slopes of a hollow slope with a strong relief, which resembles a miniature of the famous caldera of Santorini. It is an elongated and densely structured residential unit with a slightly arcuate shape, developing from north to south over a length of several hundred metres.

The altitude of the settlement from the sea level varies from 150 to 220 meters. A steep winding cobbled road, similar to the cobbled roads in Fira and Ammoudi, connects the settlement with the coast. It is wide, with a protective wall and paved with volcanic black stones. The steep slope is relieved by intermediate steps. This is the only communication route between Manolas and the coast. The name of the beach is Korfos, which is perfectly appropriate, since the curved coastline has the shape of a hug. More than ten small shops, taverns, cafes and ouzeri are lined up next to each other, just a few meters from the wave. These little shops represent almost the entire tourist infrastructure of Thirassia. They base their operation mainly on the small cruises that take place daily with wooden boats from Santorini to the islets of Old and New Kameni with the volcano.

After the shocking – and for most people – primitive experience of the jet-black lava landscapes, visitors end up having lunch in Thirassia at noon. Most of them disperse to the taverns on the coast. Some, however, usually foreigners, prefer to dine aloft, with a panoramic view of Santorini and Korfos. So they arm themselves with patience and for about 20 minutes they sweat it out on the uphill stone cobblestone path. Some prefer the ridges of the semis, which are lined up on the waterfront every afternoon, reminiscent of taxis in waiting. All of them, hikers or riders, when they reach the Manolas’ high points, they necessarily pass in front of the tavern of John of Syrios. The coals have been burning for a long time on the open-air grill. Standing next to it, Yannis grills shrimps or skewers, usually chicken.

The tantalizing smell of roasting meat constantly wafts over the coals carried by the breeze in the narrow alleyway, and envelops the nostrils of the tourists. Few resist and insist on continuing uphill. Most approach the grill, take a closer look, smell the “tsikna” even better. Their last reservations are dispelled by John’s smiles and welcomes. So they look left and in two steps they are at the tavern’s terrace. Its name is “Panorama”. It could not be any other. The view down to Korfos and the sea and across to most of Santorini and the caldera is unique.

The moment the first tourists sit down on the chairs the music starts. There are notes of syrtaki and other Greek dances, well-known and very popular in the last decades among the world audience. This process – customers and simultaneous start of music – is repeated every day with such consistency and precision that even if you can’t see, you can guess exactly when the first tourist settled into John’s seats. Inside, his wife Margarita reveals to strangers the sanctuary of traditional Greek cuisine, pastitsio and moussaka. The “Greek salad” of course needs no introduction. With its square white hat of feta over cucumbers, onions, tomatoes and olives, it is famous to all. It is a genuine Greek patent, which no European partner can appropriate. So I think it is unlikely that in the future the paternity and uniqueness of this culinary invention of our country will be challenged.

Sitting on a shady table we enjoy everything: the cool breeze, the view, the care of our friends Margarita and John. The strangers arrive every now and then, panting at an altitude of 180 meters above sea level, sniffing like bloodhounds at what is being cooked on the terrace and then simmering themselves at the tables at the edge of the terrace, under the sun. At the end of April the Greek summer has begun in Thirassia.

THE ISLAND’S SOUTH

We leave the “international crowd” of John’s terrace, which for a moment reminded us of Santorini, and head south to the deserted part of the island. With our guide Matthew we take the uphill cement road, pass by the heliport and the large water tank, which covers the needs of the island with the water brought by the hydrofoil from Lavrio. A dirt road begins, mild and passable for all cars. A wild rabbit jumps out in front of us, startled, and disappears by leaping among the bushes. Further down, two partridges emerge, these ones calmer. To the left, on the top of the hill, the chapel of Prophet Ilias is whitewashed. Around it are low fairground houses, white too.

– Here, this is where the path to the chapel begins, says Matthew.

It is not marked in the slightest, it is just a narrow opening between the bushes, which only a local can distinguish. On the way to the top of the hill, the path is often lost between the thymes, the thorny bushes, the successive dry stone walls. It is these rural fences, elaborately constructed of black stones, that are dotted all over the island. Their presence is a reminder of the alienatingly large participation of agriculture in the economy of Thirassia, with its many small but precious fields and vineyards. In recent decades, most of the fields have been choked by grass and thorns, and few people are now working on the volcanic and arid soil of the island. As we climb uphill we also come across small remnants of houses, some of which are undercut. Those walls that remain standing are built of black stones, which, unlike the dry stone walls, have a mortar binder in between.

– These are some of the outlying houses of the ruined and abandoned settlement of Kera, says Matthew. A little further on we come across the main building fabric of the settlement.

In a little less than fifteen minutes we reach Prophet Ilias. The last part of the path is passable and distinct, the steps are whitewashed, without bushes and grasses. Perhaps as well marked and maintained should be the rest of the trail leading to this high point of the island. A beautiful chapel and white festival houses, a clean and cemented courtyard, an altitude of 300 meters and a unique view of Santorini and the caldera, from Oia to Akrotiri. We embrace with our gaze all this extravaganza, which compensates us for the small inconvenience of getting here.

– And imagine that, though lower, the view from the Monastery of the Assumption will be more beautiful, says Matthew.

We return to the car, continue for about 200 meters and stop above the settlement of Kera. After the final abandonment of the village, nature has remained the exclusive protagonist. Free now from the presence and interventions of humans, it has almost disappeared their works among dense grills, thymes, thorny bushes, tall grasses and countless daisies. Walls broken down, stoned with lava stones, cobbled paths, the so-called “rimides”, almost disappeared under the grasses. Total silence. Only a few small birds can be heard. We walk with difficulty among the ruins.

– The last inhabitants of Kera were Mrs. Vangelio and Anthony, says Matthew. A decade ago the man passed away at the age of 97. Then Mrs. Vangelio also left the settlement and has been living in Manolas ever since.

The slope is rough, where the old Therassiotes built Kera. So inhospitable is the coast below. But the view from every house is stunning. An impressive building attracts our attention. It is a large canava, a winery with a domed roof elaborately built with black lava stones. They are connected to each other with “aspa”, a theraic dirt that, together with lime, creates a binding mortar of excellent strength, used in all the traditional buildings of the island. The two large holes from which the grapes were poured into the ‘linoi’, the wine presses, still remain in the building. In one of the wine presses the grapes were pressed for white wine, the main varieties being the famous Assyrtiko, Aedani and Athiri. These same grapes are still the predominant raw material for the creation of the famous white, dry Santorini wines. In the other lino, the inhabitants of Kera used to grow the varieties for red wine, Mandilaria and Mavrotragano, which gave the wine a deep red, almost black colour.

We walk for several minutes among the remains of the ruined settlement, it is very sad to see the end of this place, so special. If it were developed by a group of inspired investors it could perhaps become a model holiday settlement, with traditional features unique to the whole surrounding area.

A few hundred meters later we reach the southernmost tip of the island, Cape Tripiti. Here, 200 metres above the sea surface, the Monastery of the Assumption dominates, a white-white touch among the dark earth of Thirassia. The monastery’s facilities are impressive, with the large number of cells, the courtyard, the bell tower and the 1872 katholikon, some remnants of white marble architectural elements that hark back to ancient times. The view from the monastery is also unique, more impressive even than that of Prophet Ilias. Here, apart from the whole of Santorini and the caldera, we can also gaze at the entire width of the channel that separates Oia from the island of Thirassia. Unfortunately, no picture and no description can do justice to this unique privilege of vision.

ON THE RIVER AND IN THE WILDERNESS

In the centre of the island and a few hundred metres west and below Manolas is the settlement of Potamos. It is so named because it is built on the bed and slopes of a ravine. There are several cave houses on the slopes, while the rest are generally white with orange windows in various shades of blue. In the courtyards red geraniums and bougainvilleas, vegetable gardens, small vineyards and fig trees. In the centre of the village dominates the church of Agios Dimitrios with its wonderfully painted bell tower. A long alley leads uphill from the main road to the church of Agios Spyridon, with a very special façade and bell tower, built in 1875.

Potamos is a beautiful place and the walk through its narrow streets is very pleasant. The people we meet are very friendly and polite, just like in Manolas. A quiet place, too quiet perhaps, since the only little shop, a grocery store, is closed. Surprisingly, the village has no café to rest a while and listen to the way of thinking and the words of the locals.

Half a kilometer south of Potamos we meet the settlement of Agrilia, the second abandoned settlement of the island, just off the road. Ruined houses of exquisite architecture, many caves on the slopes, many flowers, trees and bushes, an overall landscape so green and idyllic that it is impossible to explain why its inhabitants abandoned it. The image, however, that more than any other, which captivates our eyes, comes from the Panagia of Eisodia, the central church of the village. The date 1887 is engraved on the marble lintel.

In terms of volume and architecture, the church is truly impressive. The entire façade, walls, windows, doors and bell tower bear obvious examples of excellent painting, with the dominant colours being lulac, beige and mustard. The dome is painted in the shade of grey-blue. Inside, we can admire what remains of the amazing floral motifs, the stars of the sky, the eight exquisite double-headed eagles, one on each side of the octagonal dome, in yellow and lulac, which, unfortunately, are becoming increasingly attenuated with the passage of time.

The iconostasis is wooden and plain, decorated with simple painted motifs. The floor is impressive, covered with square two-colour slabs, dating back to the time of the temple’s construction. Some of the plaster on the walls has been removed. It is certain that this amazing monument of orthodoxy needs immediate conservation.

At the last light we climb up to the high points after Manolas. Here is the lodging of Dimitris Nomikos and his wife Zacharoula. There are 9 rooms arranged next to each other on a long terrace with a stunning view. From the altitude of about 230 meters our view looks out over Korfos and the settlement of Manolas, half of Santorini and the caldera to the east, while to the west the horizon stretches to the land of Folegandros and Ios.

– You’re out of luck, it’s foggy today. With a clear atmosphere I have counted up to 18 islands, Dimitris tells us.

A cheerful, talkative and likeable man, just like his wife Zacharoula. Before we are asked anything, they willingly offer us coffee and cold water. I take a look at the outdoor area surrounding the facility. Olive trees, many and varied fruit trees, vineyards, countless flowers and ornamental plants, all immaculately arranged and well-watered. Equally neat are the rooms, simple and without any particular luxuries but all with fridge, air conditioning, TV, hot water in the bathroom, electric cooker with electric eyes and a full range of cutlery and utensils. What more could one wish for in Thirassia. The luxuries of Santorini’s accommodations would seem foreign to the austerity of the place.

Dimitris Nomikos lived for many years in America. In 1976 he returned to his mother’s hometown and shortly afterwards opened his first restaurant in Korfos, even constructing a concrete pier to tie up the stools. The restaurant operated until 1985. Three years later, Dimitris created the lodge, which has already completed 20 years of operation and at the same time, it is still the only lodge with these specifications in Thirassia.

In the evening hours at Dimitris’s terrace we experience the experience of absolute silence. No noise, no cars, no traffic on Manolas. Only the thousands of lights of the opposite Santorini remind us that we are in the wider environment of one of the most cosmopolitan destinations in the world. But this can only be perceived with the sense of sight.

SOME FACTS ABOUT THE ISLAND OF THIRASSIA

Our birds have been waking us up since dawn. 20 meters after the small terrace the plateau ends, a steep cliff begins, which ends at the coast. This may be the high point for contemplation and reflection. Wherever we turn our eyes, the sight is sublime.

Our hosts open their home to us, offer us coffee and breakfast. It starts a pleasantly warm day, with the best omens for touring the island.

Thirassia is not big. With an area of 9.3 square kilometers, it is eight times smaller than Santorini, which is 76. Its dimensions are similar. The maximum length from N to S is close to 6, while the maximum width from E to W is less than 2.5 km. Besides, the channel separating it from Santorini is narrow, not exceeding one mile.

Initially Thirassia was a municipality, established by the Bye-Law of 13 Oct. 1834 and was classified in the 3rd category with a population of only 319 inhabitants. The island reached its peak population in 1896 with 855 inhabitants. In 1912 the Community of Thirassia was established with the settlement of Manolas as its seat, while in 1997 it was merged with the Community of Oia. The island’s population began to decline at the beginning of the 20th century with the crisis of the shipping industry, while the devastating earthquake of 1956 pushed many Thirassians to emigrate. Today the permanent population of the island is around 200 inhabitants, living mainly in Potamos and Manolas.

For the record, the earthquake of 9 July 1956, with a magnitude of 7.5 Richter, is considered the strongest surface earthquake that occurred in our country in the 20th century. It is also considered to be the largest known surface earthquake in the history of Santorini among the 12 major earthquakes that occurred as early as 198 BC. It is also worth noting that the earthquake of 9 July 1956 was accompanied by the largest known tsunami in Greece in the last two centuries. The wave height reached 20 metres on the northern coast of Astypalaia and 25 metres on the southern coast of Amorgos!

In addition, we should mention that Thirassia’s terrain is sloping, with the highest points in the eastern part of the island where, especially in the area of Prophet Ilias, the altitude approaches 300 meters. The eastern and southern coasts are steep and at a great height from the sea, while the western coasts are low and rocky, and in some places sandy. The western part of the island is the most flat and cultivated with barley and vineyards, what remains of the 3000 hectares that once covered 1/3 of the island’s surface.

According to tradition, the island was named after the young daughter of King Theras, Thirassia. According to researchers, it was created by the great eruption and action of the volcano around 1640 BC. Thirassia is also mentioned by the historian Pliny, who states that in 237 BC it broke away from Thera after the earthquake. At that time, it is said that the centre of the island of Strongyli sank, resulting in the creation of Thirassia, Aspronisi, Old and New Kommeni.

The entire terrain of the island consists of volcanic rocks, which are almost entirely covered by a layer of theraic soil. This product of volcanic activity has important structural properties. When mixed with lime in a given proportion, theraic earth becomes very strong and waterproof. The theraic earth in Santorini and Thirassia is of excellent quality and is available in huge quantities. It is also very advantageous to mine it, since it is very thick on the surface of the land and therefore the mines are open-air, with low mining costs. Loading onto ships is also easy. It was therefore no coincidence that large quantities of theraic land were used in the work to open the Suez Canal in the decade from 1859 to 1869. There were, of course, quarries outside Fira, but the main volume of mining for Suez took place in Thirassia, above the steep southern coast.

This information alone was enough to motivate us to search for the locations of the abandoned 19th century mines in Thirassia. All the more so since the book by the archaeologist Iris Tzahili contained a wide-ranging and fascinating report on the discovery of an ancient house during mining operations in the Theraean mine in Thirassia.

IN SEARCH OF THE ANCIENT PAST

Rarely in a book of archaeological content have we encountered the excitement, brilliance and novelistic plot, which the book of archaeologist Iris Tzahili brings together in its pages. A simple reading was enough to take us on a quest for the past in the southern part of the island.

With our van we cross the settlement of the river and take the fairly good dirt road heading south. In about 2 km we pass by the very beautiful chapel of Stavros. Very quickly the road becomes rough even for the hardy van. About a kilometre later it finally comes to an end. We are over the western cape of the island, Kiminas. For almost 100 meters we walk on the slippery ground of a large waterfall, which furrows the road along its longitudinal axis. The loose soil consists of theraic earth and black lava stones.

We reach a small plateau, which protrudes like a platform. To the south, Aspronisi looms in front of us, behind it the Akrotiri and, further to the west, in the depths of the sea, the masses of the islets of Christiana. A conical ring of islands protrudes from the surface of the sea a few hundred metres offshore.

A circular path leads us in three minutes down to the plateau. Our gaze meets the cape of Tripiti to the SE and above it the white outline of the Monastery of Koimisi. But the landscape that impresses us most is very close to us, towards the interior of the island. It is the vertical slopes of the theraic land. They rise like a solid and continuous greyish wall several tens of metres above the ground. We are in the area of the 19th century mines of Thirassia, described by Iris Tzahili in her book. Let us follow this description:

“The archaeological discovery in Thirassia was made on the south coast, opposite Aspronisi, between the capes of Tripiti and Kiminas. The aspa (Theraean land) layer was being extracted in vertical slices, from the surface to its natural base, which was the layer of volcanic rocks below. It was done by the following method: at the root of the aspen layer, a series of tunnels were dug at the base of the aspen layer, which were interconnected, undermining the entire upper volume of the aspen. This undermining soon produced the desired result. The upper part of the layer collapsed, the soil became even looser, the intermediate lava stones were easier to remove, and the solid earth was turned into dust, which could be sold and used for building purposes. This method of extraction was called ‘cutting’. But before the workings reached the lower layers of the aspen, there were many lava stones that were slow (irregular) and sometimes chipped. Many of them were laid straight, in straight rows, and one could easily recognize that they were building walls. Local workers and mine owners were aware of the existence of these structures and avoided them, because they increased the cost of processing, which resulted in a reduction in the price of asphalt.

In late January 1866 a long series of eruptions of the volcano of Thera began, which lasted almost five years, until October 1870. The Academy of Athens set up a Scientific Committee to monitor the phenomenon. Among the members was A. Christomanos, later Professor of Chemistry at the University of Athens. He was the first scientist to observe the walls in the quarry and identify their archaeological significance. The locals, of course, who had earlier pointed out the existence of the walls, probably knew that they were antiquities. But they were not mobilised, firstly because they were interested in the productivity of the mine workers and secondly because there was not enough social awareness. When this happened, in September 1866, the owner of the mine who undertook the excavation himself, Siguras Alafouzos, the first thing he notes is how much it cost him, how many workers he employed and for how many days. In his narrative it is clear that he was careful not to be financially damaged.

Thus, although everyone knows about the existence of the ancient buildings, only the fact of the explosion arouses interest because the ruins come to the attention of scientists. We can therefore say that the mining work for the Suez Company in Thirassia created the conditions for research and immediately afterwards, on the occasion of the explosion, the interest of scientists found fertile ground. The combination of the two created this early interest and catapulted the Thirassia antiquities into the focus of scientific attention.

But let us return to the first excavation. It was carried out in the mine of Siguras Alafouzos, Mayor of Oia. He was a man of education, of financial means. The excavation was done by him, his son X. Alafouzo and his relative N. Nomikos, a doctor, a well-known archaeologist and collector. It lasted 3 days and employed 13 workers. A. Christomanos, who examined the buildings, was the first to say that these buildings must have been built before the great explosion of 1640 BC.

At the beginning of October of the same year, i.e. 1866, the second, short-day excavation is carried out by Alafouzos and Nomikos. The next one was carried out in March 1867 by the French geologist Ferdinand Fouquet.

We wander for an hour in the lunar landscape of the mines of Thirassia. The ground is almost flat but rough, strewn with countless black lava stones, removed as waste material during the mining of the aspen. All these stones form stony, half-buried walls with dry-stone or even long walls, with binding mortar and excellent construction, which for a moment give us the impression that we are standing in front of the remains of a prehistoric building or settlement. Reading more carefully what Tzahili mentions in her book, we find that “the prehistoric building excavated by the owners of the mine and Fouquet was demolished as the mine progressed, or demolished for other, unknown reasons, or fell down on its own due to the looseness of the materials. Only a few stones and shells can be seen on the spot today.”

At least we are left with the satisfaction that among the thorny bushes and the thymes we find the rusty skeletons of the two rusty wagons mentioned by Tzahili. Also, at the edge of the cliff, a little above the sea, we discern one of the two large fences with the opening from which the funnel started, that is, a metallic conduit fixed to the rocks, which descended to the sea and through which the aspa was channelled to the cargo ships waiting below to load.

Although it is the end of April, the heat in the arid landscape of the mine is reminiscent of summer. As we walk under the hot sun, a frightened wild rabbit jumps out of a bush, speeds up the very steep slope of the aspen and disappears into the safety of its underground den. Shortly afterwards, two more wild rabbits appear. These cute little animals are worthy of admiration for their adaptability in this inhospitable environment where, apart from the sparse rainfall, the only water available is the dew in the bushes during the night. Equally well adapted are the thymes and thorns, the grates and the hardy flowering capers, a short fig tree and some other trees with yellow flowers that look like eucalyptus. This is a summary of the flora that thrives in this part of the island.

Returning to Tzahili’s book, we read that Thirassia presents the following paradox: there are detailed descriptions of the work and a very good final publication. But there is nothing else. We literally have only the publication, while the things themselves are destroyed or are wrong or can only be identified hypothetically. The prehistoric building was also destroyed. Even stranger, almost all the movable finds have been almost completely lost. Some of them, very few of the total, are depicted in drawings, most are only described. At the moment the fate of most of them is unknown.

For the record, however, it is worth mentioning, albeit very briefly, the results of the excavations in Thirassia. Initially, the prehistoric building was found, an almost square space with dimensions of 11 x 12 meters, divided into six unequal rectangular spaces. Around the building there was a fenced courtyard. In the various excavations, the remains of various smaller buildings were also found, so that we can assume that there was a small rural settlement at this point of Thirassia.

There were also many movable finds, which, according to the descriptions, came to light. We mention, for example, the circular base of a column of carved stone 30 cm in diameter, the large heaps of charred barley and wheat, a large number of various vessels in the cist, many of which were broken when the workers tried to remove them, stone utensils and tools, three weights of different weights of volcanic stone and a human skeleton.

According to Tzahili, this is perhaps the most important finding of the site since no other human skeleton was found in the entire area of the excavations of Akrotiri. According to Fouquet he was killed by the collapse of the roof. What is certain is that after this man’s death no one returned to the house, for if that had happened he would certainly have been removed and probably buried. So according to the commonly accepted view, the inhabitants left with the warning earthquakes that preceded the great volcanic eruption of 1640 BC.

Without expert knowledge, we are unable to identify the remains of the walls – some of exceptional construction – that protrude among the thorns and bushes. However, we leave this strange place of southern Thirassia fascinated. And we always remember Tzahili’s writing:

“Now, in their complete abandonment, the mines have been preserved intact with only the natural wear and tear of time, without human interference, since the site was never used for anything else later. The mines of southern Thirassia are an intact monument to recent industrial history and a potentially outstanding field of industrial archaeology. Desolate and imposing the site today, with white aspen on one side, the cliffs and the polluted sea on the other, many tens of metres lower down, with the rusty bases of the pipelines emerging, barely discernible through the waves, with their large fences, hoppers, endless piles of black waste and rusty wagons, offers a shocking landscape, a still page of industrial history to anyone who reaches it, waiting for the historian or archaeologist to read among the stones the techniques, the aims, the movements of the men, the means at their disposal, the sounds, the steam or sailing ships that approached from below, loading and leaving for the mighty ports of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.”

FROM KORFOS TO TRIPITI

In the morning we go from Manolas down the cobbled road to Korfos. In the morning dew, the descent is pleasant, very different of course from the midday experience of tourists and even the ascent. At the quay, Captain Antonis is waiting for us with his boat, which runs the daily route from Ammoudi to Riva. He willingly accepted to show us around the eastern part of the coastline of Thirassia, from the harbour of Korfos to the cape of Tripiti.

Korfos is a beautiful settlement, with its small vaulted buildings along the coast, hidden in the foothills of the Theraean land. It is the small “neossoikoi”, with their colourful picturesque doors, safe havens for the island’s fishing boats. In fact, if the various little shops would take more care of their image, Korfos would be altogether much more beautiful.

As we sail slowly, small successive bays unfold. Above them rise, almost vertically, spectacular volcanic rocks of varying dark colours. Fishing boats raise their morning nets, the entire eastern horizon is dominated by the spectacle of the famous settlements and the caldera of Santorini. The waters are still calm, however, as we approach the cape of Tripiti, the sea surface becomes more and more wrinkled. The captain points this out.

– After the bend we will meet weather.

The highest points of the land of Thirassia, in the area of Prophet Ilias, are slowly passing over our heads. After Kera the masses lower, but the coast is still rocky and inhospitable. As we reach the southeasternmost tip of the island, the “Kamarella”, that spectacular opening in the rock, from which the cape of Tripiti takes its name, looms in the nose.

The weather has already changed dramatically. Angry waves are bypassing the cape or passing through the hole with even greater momentum. The tranquility of sailing is a thing of the past, the deck of the lance is no longer the flat surface with its uneventful movements at the beginning of the voyage.

– I’m sorry, but if we hook the boat we’ll get wet, says the captain. Come in the summer with a punching boat, when small boats can pass through the hole without a problem.

Before we set sail for Korfos, we gaze for a moment at the mouth of the cave, that strange upturned snout of black and reddish lava. As the waves rip beneath it, we see how it looks like the head of a giant roaring rock.

EPILOGUE

Before we descend to the port of Riva, we enter for the last time the straits of Manolas. We owe a visit to Mrs. Vangelio, the last inhabitant left in the desert of Kera. We find her sitting in her chair in the vaulted little house next to the wood-burning oven.

– Shall I make you some coffee?, asks the old woman.

Anna and I look at each other awkwardly. Coffee in the stove from a 98 year old man? Is this an abuse of hospitality? Should we refuse? Mrs. Vangelio, however, waits undaunted for our answer. Suddenly another old lady comes to mind, whose vitality had astonished us. It was Mrs. Maria. In the spring of 2000 in Mylikouri, Cyprus, she was 95 years old and kept a small café in the village and roasted her coffee over a wood fire. We decide not to deprive Mrs. Vangelio of the joy of giving.

With slow but deliberate movements, the slender, small woman heads to the kitchen, puts all the necessary ingredients in the briquette, lights the stove, stirs the contents and waits for it to rise. Every moment my anxiety grows. She takes the briquette off the fire, fills the cups, glasses with water and places them all on a tray. I move to get up, to help her. At the last minute I regret it. Better that the glory be hers to the end.

Seven children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren. Happy memories but also difficult moments, rural life, livestock, vineyards and wine, the last years in Kera with Barb Antonis and then all alone. The loneliness was unbearable, it came to her folks, to Manolas. A century of life in Thirassia.

Little port of Riva. With its innocence and clutter, almost nice, with the little tavernas, the many makeshift houses and in the distance the beautiful dark sandy beach. The launch arrives and at 5 o’clock sharp sails for Ammoudi. Thirassia is receding and with it this feeling of supreme peace. 12 minutes later we are back in cosmopolitan Santorini.