The secret paths of monks

Giannis said the post office sometimes opens at the weekend, so first thing I headed down just in case. No luck, however.

On the way back I was able to look around the 11th century Byzantine church, which was closed when I first tried it.

Many frescoes, of course. A sign saying "only monks, priests and nannies allowed" makes me smile. The place has character but I feel I know too little about this sort of architecture and painting to appreciate it, other than its age. There is a little mosaic that the guide says is a peacock, but I prefer to think this, and many other beautifully carved birds in the monasteries, is a phoenix, with its symbolism of resurrection. Outside in the wall of the church are a sun and a serpent, pagan carvings re-deployed.

I put my last few coins in the collecting box and head back for breakfast. Then I head up a monopatia, a "secret monk's path" in the direction of Aghios Triados, a monastery that was closed when I did the circuit. it featured in a Bond film, and you can see what a spectacle it would make. The secret path is well maintained and easy enough to follow. The climb seems surprisingly quick, in maybe 40 minutes I am in the monastery. It is fun to watch a cable car bringing a workman across with his toolbox... Much less effort than climbing down the path and back up.

Leaving the monastery I am back on the tourist trail, and the noise is a bit oppressive. Days on isolated mountains have left me intolerant of hubbub. Many visitors seem to be Russian or Bulgarian.

The last establishment now houses 30 nuns who are taking every opportunity to sell icons, postcards and other paraphernalia. It must be necessary for them, but seems a pity. There is a constant stream of pilgrims through the church. The press is less in the museum, however, and the parchments are well worth seeing. As well as the Poetics and some liturgy, they have some early musical notation, a little like plainsong.

The convent closes at 13.00 and as the buses buzz away with their swarms of visitors, I climb down from the road onto the mountain, to have a peaceful lunch looking out on the amazing view. I am still failing to identify many birds as they seem extra shy: there seem to be swifts around, and certainly there are finches.

Eventually I head back the way I came, past Aghios Triados and down the monopatia. I am overtaken by a young monk walking fast. I want to photograph him on this appropriate path, but am a little embarrassed to do so (it seems rude to regard a person as a tourist sight). By the time I have my camera out and it has chirped into life, the monk is well ahead on the path, which winds so much it is hard to see more than ten yards ahead. I do get one or two rushed pictures.

The monk pauses to sit on a rock and read. I dash past trying not to look as if I have been stalking him. It does add meaning to this place, that people still use its isolation and majesty for a contemplative life. I wonder how much the tourists intrude, though.