When I told my cousin that I was coming to Amorgos, she asked me to go to the monastery for her. It's a very sacred place to her and she used to make the pilgrimage to the monastery every summer. She hasn't been to Amorgos for five years and will probably never visit the island again, so when she asked me to go I had to say yes.
Unfortunately, my health has declined in recent years. A year ago, I could barely stand long enough to cook or take a shower. I struggled to take the garbage to the recycling room in my building. I had chest pain and shortness of breath and my legs swelled - all signs that my heart was struggling. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was dying. So, starting in March 2022, I made some changes. Then I made some more changes. Then I made some more changes. When I booked this trip in October 2022, I realized how physically demanding it would be, so I started working out and walking more. I also changed my diet and lost about 15 to 20 lbs. Even with that progress, I wasn't sure I would be able to climb the 300 stairs to the monastery.
I drove to the monastery yesterday morning and arrived around 11:00am, but when I got there the parking lot it was full. The monastery is located on the side of a cliff, so there is nowhere else to park. I had to abandon the pilgrimage and return to Chora. I was both relieved and vexed.
I only had the rental car for two days, so today was my last chance to make the pilgrimage. I got up early and left without breakfast. I arrived at the parking lot at 8:30am, which is when the monastery opens to visitors. I parked next to a van by the entrance. As I was getting myself sorted I heard shouting from above. It was a man walking a mule down the stairs. I waited to see what he wanted. He insisted that I move my car, which I did.
The man and his mule were bringing supplies to the monks in the monastery. They get bottled water, raki, food, and other necessities delivered two or three times a week by pack mule. There's no other way to get supplies up the stairs.
I set off up the stairs. I kept telling myself to go slow and take breaks whenever I felt the need. Visiting the monastery was the only activity I had planned for the day - there was no rush.
Even so, it was difficult. The "stairs" are basically rough-hewn rocks casually cobbled together. As a result the "stairs" are uneven and a serious trip hazard. Some of the rocks are also quite worn and slippery, and of course there is loose sand and bit of gravel that make it difficult to find solid footing.
It was also the first hot and sunny day of the trip. It felt like it was about 25C in direct sunlight. I could feel it beating down on me.
I eventually made it to the top. I think it took me between 45 minutes and an hour. I almost couldn't believe I made it.
Inside the monastery there are more stairs. Some are almost 1.5 feet tall. Also, the monastery isn't very wide - maybe 10 feet at its widest points. Inside, you ascend two floors to a reception area. Then, you ascent another floor to the church, where the holy relic is displayed with all of the other relics. A monk is usually present to make sure no one takes pictures (photos are forbidden), and more specifically to deter visitors don't damage or steal any of the relics.
When I left Athens, my cousin Rita gave me an envelope to give to the oldest monk at the monastery, Father Spyridon. I asked the mule man (who was unloading some water) if Father Spyridon was there, and he said that yes, he was in the church. Sure enough, he was sitting there at the entrance.
Father Spyridon seemed surprised when I gave him the envelope. He reached around to find his reading glasses, then opened the envelope and read the letter from Rita. She must have explained who I was, because he had a big smile on his face and gave me a handshake. He didn't speak much English, but he did manage to convey that he had visited Vancouver three years ago on holiday.
After meeting with Father Spyridon and admiring the relics, I went back down to the reception area. There, a volunteer usually serves water and a tot of raki. Father Spyridon called down to ask that he also give us cookies and coffee.
I say "us", becaause when I arrived at the monastery there was an exhausted 75-year-old French woman resting from the climb up the stairs. She was absolutely knackered, and worried about how she was going to get down the stairs and back to Chora. She had caught a cab to the parking lot, but had failed to arrange a ride back to the village. I offered to walk down with her and to give her a ride to the village, which she happily accepted.
The walk down was almost more stressful than the climb up. I was terrified of slipping on the smooth rocks, or on the dirt and gravel. I basically crab-walked down. The French woman actually beat me to the parking lot! Here's a photo to give you a sense of how high up it is:
I dropped the woman in Chora and drove back to the hotel. I had missed lunch so I went to Aegiali for something to eat. Here are some photos of the small harbour and some of the shops.
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