Monday, March 28, 2011

Nisyros, The Monkey Island of Aegean Sea


Mandraki is the gateway to Nisyros island (and Volcano)
Long long ago I promised to my happy few readers a couple of posts about the Netherlands and London. You need to know that I usually keep my promises, but for me the word “usually” is roughly evaluated to 60%. And I 'm usually right on these calculations, ergo 60% of 60%, you do the math. The truth is I have all the photos and the memories, but I never took the time to write them down. These trips are stacked at the bottom of the list of my past trips I promised to publish here but haven't yet. Because this time I'm going to tell you about Monkey Island (aka Nisyros, Greece).



Monkey Island ™ is an old adventure game by Lucasarts ™ that really cracked me up when I was a teenager. It's about this guy, Guybrush Threepwood, who explores the mysteries of a volcanic island in the Caribbean, while he falls in love with the governor (Elaine Marley). He also has to face pirates, pirate ghosts, other islands, he has to take over pirate ships, fight with swords and other macho stuff, and he does all that in such a goofy way that I couldn't help but relate to the poor guy.

Another thing me and Guybrush have in common is that we fancy the same girl. Actually, I like the M.I. 2 version of her the most, where she is gorgeously pixelised, but I stoped liking her after the 3rd version. I 've done so much for her, but she only knows Guybrush, oblivious of the fact that Guybrush would do nothing but wait for me to click his next move. Elaine, if you ever read this, please thing how much I and the walkthrough guys have done for your happiness (yes, I was cheating, because I cared more about the story than solving the puzzles by myself).

I admit I hadn't thought of monkey island when this group of friends proposed that visit to the volcanic island of Nisyros, Greece, last week. We were at the nearby island of Kos at the time, and it seemed like a good idea. There were only some drug problems: I was short on them. There was only a roll left, which I consumed with pleasure the day before we took the ferry from Kardamaina fishing port to Mandraki, the gateway village of Nisyros. The advantages of smoking your weed the day before are obvious: when we took the ferry, I was stoned enough to enjoy the blue sea and the ferry fauna but not too much to make me look suspicious.

Ferry fauna, you say? Small out of season ferries tent to carry some very distinct specimens. Usually there are one or two soldiers and a priest. Then, there is always a guy who looks like he was born there and feeds on the boat dirt. There are two more kinds of people you are likely to see on a small ferry, and I could easily spot the first type: the captain, a person who behaves like he is in command of a large military boat while he has spent all his career driving this small vessel to the port across the channel, an easy job I suspect. The last type of people is the tourist, which can be identified by the excitement, the laughs, the anticipation. Since I couldn't spot any, I conclude we were the tourists.

My group consisted of me, another guy and three girls. Yes, you read that right, suckers, three girls! Of course, they are the type of dude-girls you can be friends with, otherwise I wouldn't traveling with them. I don't want anything emotional to interfere with my trips, whether artificial or not. OK, that reduces the glory of my initial statement, but still, in the world of geeky dudes a three-two group is still legendary, even if two is the number of girls. From now on we will call them girl B, girl C and girl D.

The disadvantage of having more girls in the group is that they behave, how can I put it, in an incomprehensive way. For example, each one of them carried a separate bag for cosmetics and stuff, although we all new we would stay at Nisyros for just one night. Their luggage was enormous, at least compared to mine: no luggage. The thinks I took with me consist of a pair of socks (different to each other), underwear changes, a pack of rolling papers, two expired condoms for blowing balloons, a part of a sandwich, my wallet, my keys and my iPhone, all stuffed in the pockets of my jacket.

As we were approaching Nisyros, I sensed there was something familiar there. When we stepped on the port-side road, that feeling became stronger. Then, it came out in the form of words: “where is the SCUMM bar?”. The three gals and the guy looked at me, and I could clearly see a question mark on their expressions. “You know, the Monkey Island bar?”. They weren't familiar with the concept. I had to retreat. “Oh, never mind” I said. They didn't.
Walking through the narrow roads of Mandraki, Nisyros is a rich visual experience.
Mandraki is the most populated village of the island. It is habited by less than a thousand people and it reminds me so much of the first few stages of the game. It was empty, not a soul on the narrow road by the sea which leads from the port to Spiliani monastery at the top of the hill. The monastery overlooks the whole village, obviously a place of authority and power. We walked down the sea road. The bar signs where moving slowly back and forth by the wind, making the creepy noise the bar signs tent to make when they are moving by the wind. A cat was the first mammal soul we met. We asked for directions and she responded “miaou” which was good enough, because the place is really small and it's impossible to miss something.

We finally found the hotel. There are quite a few hotels and rooms for rent on the island, but only in the summer period. We were out of season, we were adventurous, we had to stay at the only place that could host as for a price. It was OK, we didn't care anyway. Actually, the girls did care a bit, because they wanted their place clean and healthy, but the dudes prefer to sleep in the stable, because it makes a better story afterwards. They didn't have a stable so we had to rent a room too.

The evening was very relaxing. We walked, we performed the rituals of our tribe (taking pictures of each other taking pictures of each other), we found a plaza with local people in it, not a lot, but enough to make you feel uncomfortable (that's right, I'm not very fond of people – our species is the worst!). They were staring. While I was trying to convince my companions that we should get out of there, they decided we should have a cup of coffee. They increased the staring up to a level so high that you couldn't miss it even if you were blind. “Hi, who are you and what are you doing here? Where are you staying, how much do they charge you, where are you going to eat? Did you know there are three bars in Mandraki and you have to visit all of them otherwise we won't be able to ensure your safety? Did you know very few tourists leave this island alive?”. My friends seemed oblivious to the threats. I wonder if it was my fault. Maybe I was misreading the subtext, but the truth is I smoked a great amount of mary jane the last two weeks and the sense that you are been threatened (a classic side effect) grew on me eventually.
The Panagia Spiliani Monastery (roughly translated as "the Virgin-Mary-of-the-Cave Monastery") looks over the Mandraki village and the sea route that connects Nisyros with Kos.
Then I realized what was happening: my friends were talking to a bearded man with a black robe and a hat. The hat could be funny if it wasn't black. It was an orthodox priest. “You are talking to a priest” I whispered to girl C. “Yes”, she responded, “we are going to visit the monastery”. And we did and it wasn't a big deal, just an orthodox church built in a cave. There are also a lot of these creepy wax baby statues (or should I say idols?) given as a present from recently married couples to the church in order to increase fertility in the marriage. The viagra of another era, I thought. “So sacred” said girl D in awe.

I think the monastery was the authority source of the whole island. They could control marriages and families, they had wealth and property, they had respect, they controlled the spiritual and cultural elements of the local society, they organized the social events, they would even collect the taxes. I bet they were capable of establishing good relations the representatives of state authority, whether it was the Romans, the Eastern roman empire, the Francs, the Knights, the Seltzuks, the Ottomans, the Italians or the modern Greeks. Monasteries do that to people.
Cats guarding the door of a local house. The black and white round stones have been traditionally used to decorate paved areas  whether private or public.
We had to wake up early in the morning, so girl B proposed we should go for a quick drink and back to bed. I agreed that we should go for a drink. My companions on this trip are all greek, and in greece they tent to exaggerate food and drinks. For example, if someone invites you for a cup coffee, they will probably prepare various courses of pies and biscuits, and you might even skip coffee. If you go for a quick drink, you will probably spend at least four hours eating more than you have eaten the whole day, while drinking as much wine as the others desire for you. We ate pork, we ate pies, we ate sea food, salads and other stuff I can't remember now. We also consumed about a kilo of wine each (especially girl E).

The next day we rent a car and we started our adventure. It was easy to find our way: there is only one way anyway. You can't miss it. We followed The Way, we skipped the gas station (the only one on the island), and before we knew it, we were uphill, and staring at the big caldera of the volcano.
Approaching the Volcano. The big valley on top is the caldera while the football-field sized white whole at the bottom image is the crater.
The first think you notice is the smell. It smells like a dirty public toilet (the mens room). It's hard to get used to it, but you have to, because the sight is amazing: a round valley, smoking at the center, really green as you come closer to the cliffs. The smoke coming from the center of the round shaped valley denoted that the whole valley is the volcano. It's so big, compared to the island, that you can't fail to realize the truth: the island IS the volcano. It's not like “an island with a volcano”. No. It's a volcano that pops over the surface of the sea. People use it as an island, but in fact it is only a volcano. And a volcano is always scary and amazing.

We approached the smoking center of the valley with fear and anticipation and as we were approaching, the air was warmer, the ground less green and more yellow. The word “sulfide” was prevailing in my mind over the other words, but I kept it there for a while. Instead, I expelled “it smells like shit”. The acute smell, the hot atmosphere and the foggy air were reminding everybody of a place we 've never been, but maybe we will someday: hell.
Climbing down the crater feels like exploring the gates of hell. The yellow stuff smells really bad. The clouds on the sky are actually volcanic smoke escaping through wholes on the ground.
We reached the giant crater in the middle of the valley. It reminds me of a round football field, maybe Marakanesh, Brasil. We could see three or four people walking near the flames. Was that flames? We couldn't see any fire, but there was smoke and bad smell. We climbed down. There was no fire at all. Instead, the surface of the crater was fall of small or big wholes. The smaller ones were yellow and smoking like chimneys and they while the bigger ones were full of boiling glass. It was strange because you can go as close as a few centimeters to the boiling staff without getting burned, but if you approach your finger, there is a marginal point after which you feel burn pain. If that happens to you, don't worry, just retreat and scream. Nobody will listen to you, you are in an empty crater in the middle of a desolated hell.

Strangely, I didn't feel too bad about being in hell. It was more like a monkey island kind of feel, like a childhood toyless game that is based on imagination. Do you remember that time when you were a kid and sometimes you didn't have any toys and you had to make up scenarios and stories of your own? Did you remember playing as a character in that stories? It was exciting, it was real, but it was also secure and safe. If something went wrong you could always change the story a little bit. You could guaranty to yourself that the story would end well (if the older ones would let you finish it, instead of stopping you exactly at the moment it was starting to become really amazing).
Smaller and bigger wholes seem to serve different purposes. The small ones at the top are like smoking noses of sulfide something, while the bigger ones are like pots of boiling glass. You can approach the hot stuff up to a very short distance, if you like.
Besides, you can always create a sauna room operating on hell heat. That's what nature has already done for us at a small cave just before the nearby village of Emporios (roughly translated as “The commerce village”). The cave is not larger than 4 and a half phone booths put the one next to the other (imagine the half one being used as an entrance) but it's much much hotter than the enviroment just outside. Put a small bench inside and you have a 24/7 admission free sauna for everybody.

You would expect a free sauna to be crowded, but nobody was there. In general, there was nobody on the island. The museum was closed, and when we visited the nearby village of Nikia, we met only one old man, who was speaking in tongues. You could make some sense from his murmuring, though. “Nobody 's left here” and “they come in summer, then like the swallows they go”. I was tempted to ask him “what kind of swallows”, but are there allowed Monty Python references on the Monkey Island?

There are two kind of places. There is the kind of place you want to talk about to everyone you meet. And there is this other kind of place you don't care to share. Nisyros is probably in the second category. It feels nice to be there, but you don't want to invite everybody, because they will spoil the fun. There is energy on this island, literally. You can feel it breathing and it's warm. The island is alive. Go there, let it revitalize you, but don't be too annoying because it might explode. Literally.

4 comments:

lena said...

Girl E...?

Anonymous said...

I just hope you didn't give cheese to a lactose intolerant volcano, like Guybrush Threepwood did in Monkey island...

tina said...

Who cares for the volcano... Girl E?

Αρμενίων said...

Girl E is a girl we met there. She is a mystery, nobody remembers her existence, but I'm pretty sure she is still there.

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