October Church Fiesta

 Agioi (Saints) Kyprianou and Justiniani

In English they are Saints Cyprian(male) and Justina (a virginal female martyr).

I've just been reading up on these two.  They have a long story which I will not relate.  Bits of their skulls and hands and feet are kept as Holy Relics in Monasteries all over the place from Mount Athos here in Greece, Cyprus to Romania.

So ......

Half an hour away, across the strait, down the road, and round the corner is a picturesque blue and white church on a cliff above the sea. It's dedicated to these 2 Saints. The Priest just happens to have been a sailor at the Navy base here when K was one of the officers. 

Papa Makarios is a good man and an ideal village Priest. Twenty years ago he raised money and had the church built and since then he has been gathering basic food stuffs for the poor, supporting parishioners and urging the council to provide facilities for the elderly and a sports arena for the younger generation. 

Today was the celebration of the Saints and the founding of the church.

A man of the people unlike the monks at the monastery here on Poros.

Blue and white with flags flying all the way down the road.  

2 fire trucks slowed down as they passed, alarms flashing, parked further down and their crews came to take part in the procession of the Icons.  The Icons of the Saints, decorated with flowers, are paraded around the church and grounds.

The church inside and out was crowded.  We perched on a wall outside as we often do.  When the tray was passed around for donations they made 500 euros just from this service.  There was a service last night and another this evening.

All the money goes towards feeding and looking after the needy of the village of  Taktikopouli.  Some will go towards the centre for the elderly.  A place they can gather, enjoy some company, entertainment, coffee and meals.

When the liturgy was over and the Priest had had his say, warm and humurous, everyone filed in to receive a small piece of Holy bread.

I have gone inside on occasions but usually get a strange look from whoever is the priest.  I am obviously a foreigner and they know I'm not likely to be a member of the Orthodox church.

I didn't go this time and I should have, along with Poppi.  This priest would have loved to see Ks wife and granddaughter.

His eyes lit up when he saw K, his old Navy Officer.  He hugged him, told everyone around that he was the best officer in the Greek Navy, related a couple of stories about their time together and pressed a bottle of the Holy wine into Ks hands as he left.

We have promised to go again one Sunday soon.

From the church we drove down to the town of Methana.

Methana is under an extinct volcano and smells slightly sulphurous.

    The waterfront was empty  and perfect for a cappuccino 

Coffee and orange juice time with poppi

Me and K

From Methana we went over the hill to a bay on the other side of the peninsular, passing through the village where Ks dear Mama grew up.

He enjoyed telling Poppi about her great grandmother herding sheep for miles every day to a shelter in a cave,  wading into the very rocky sea, full of sharp volcanic stones to catch octopus and gather shellfish, to wash the winter mats and rugs in the sea in spring and travelling by donkey to church fiestas, of which there are many around there.

We finished off the morning eating at one of the fish tavernas at the little harbour of Vathi (Deep).  There were half a dozen  yachts with foreign flags tied up and we were entertained by a couple of catamarans that came and tied up in front of us. Bulgarian or Romanian. It took them a while to sort out the ropes. It was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday in October.

K, who is related to the owner of the restaurant (naturally) chose fresh grilled cod.  But he was the only one who ate fish at this fish taverna.  I had chicken souvlaki and Poppi had bifteki (a grilled hamburger without the bun).

And there were pureed yellow lentils and boiled greens and some cheese for me.