It rained all last night, and it's raining now in Meteora, Greece. We overheard a lady in our hotel say that she had decided to leave early because of the rain. I couldn't imagine leaving this place without exploring the monasteries that were built here centuries ago in such a way to dissuade anyone, especially the Turks, from accessing them. I can't possibly describe to you the beauty and uniqueness of this place, and I am inclined to believe that most people would rather experience places for themselves, rather than read about someone else's experience secondhand.
I can't describe how it felt to have the sun come out unexpectedly and give me a glimpse of this place in a new light. Nor explain all I learned about the people who built the monasteries and often met gruesome deaths to protect what they believed in. Nor tell of the desire to climb up endless stairs to explore an old building seemingly hanging in air. Or help you picture a monk taking a crude elevator down to his car in the place of the old basket that would have transported him 500 years ago. Nor describe the delight in finding a beautiful flower garden planted by the nuns on the top of a high rock. So I just have to advise you to visit the place yourself, and then let me know so we can share memories.
Worn out from our final climb up to the St. Nikolaos Monastery, we found a nearby taverna and ordered food. Being three experienced teachers, with over 95 years of teaching between us, we have plenty to reminisce about. We have stories from the classroom, from when we lived overseas, from odd family members, strange jobs and places we've been. So over a glass of "retsina", some "tatziki", "musaka" and Greek salad, we share our stories. And I realize that someone else's stories can be interesting and meaningful. It's all in the telling...
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