Article by Dimosthenis Seitaridis
Cover photo by Sotiris Tzoumerkas
Edited by Harrys Pourouzidis
As we were enjoying our ice-cold beer at Pixelscape’s “headquarters,” someone threw out the idea of taking a photowalk on Western Olympus. And once the idea enters the group’s mind, that is all it takes.
So, with swift procedures, the necessary preparations were made for equipment and supplies, and on Sunday dawn we set off for the western side of Olympus, the lesser-known side, with its incredible beauty and picturesque villages.
Our ingredients: good company, clever humour, and the group’s familiar disagreement. Canon or Nikon? Fuji or Pentax?
Our first stop was Pythio, a Vlach village built on the southwestern side of Olympus at an altitude of 720 metres. In antiquity, together with Doliche and Azoros, it formed the Perrhaebian Tripolis, the first amphictyony in Greece, that is, a federation of ancient Greek city-states centred around a common sanctuary of worship.
We crossed the village and climbed high up Olympus along a rough dirt road, in search of the caves that contain the two Byzantine hermitages.
The first, dedicated to the Holy Cross, consists of the small church, the narthex, the cells, and other spaces. According to the inscription, the building and its frescoes date to 1339.
After photographing it, we came out enchanted and continued on foot up the mountain, searching for the second hermitage, which we discovered a little later. The small church lies inside a spacious cave, decorated with beautiful icons. Beside it, in a natural recess formed by the rock, we found the monks’ cells.
We continued our photowalk and descended once more to the village to photograph Panagia Theotokos, built in 1638, with its exceptional frescoes, wonderful wooden iconostasis, and the only circular bell tower in the Balkans.
Our second stop was the artificial Lake of Kallithea, in whose calm waters Olympus is reflected. It covers an area of about 26 square meters and lies on the eastern edge of the settlement of the same name. Around it grows a narrow zone of riverside vegetation, with reeds and rushes.
Our group there split up for a while, as each of us, impressed by the natural beauty of the landscape, searched for the best possible frame. The cameras caught fire, and for half an hour each of us was in an artistic fever. Tireless, we continued our excursion, slowly but steadily gaining altitude as we climbed the western slopes of Olympus.
A brief stop at Sparmos Lake and the monastery of the same name, and then we continued undaunted towards the Greek Army’s Winter Training Centre at Vrysopoules, at an altitude of 1,820 metres, to photograph snowy landscapes. Halfway along the route, a surprise awaited us: snow. Quite a lot of snow.
Continuing on our way a second surprise appeared before us. The wild horses of Western Olympus. Descendants of horses that were replaced by machinery and left to their fate on the mountain, they now form large herds and gallop freely along the slopes of Western Olympus. Wild and proud, they looked at us suspiciously at first, but once they realised we were no threat, they calmed down and offered us wonderful shots.
At the end of the route, a third surprise awaited us, this time an unpleasant one.
It was Sunday, and the slopes of the Army Ski Training Centre had emptied of commandos and filled with civilians enjoying skiing in the deep snow. Disappointed by the crowds, we took the road back.
We decided not to return by the same route, but to come back into Pieria through Old Leptokarya.
Our final stop was Karya of Olympus, a small but beautiful and lively village at an altitude of 950 metres, nestled in the embrace of Olympus’s southern slopes.
A clearing with a spring and a kiosk in the heart of the forest became the ideal place for our meal. Tsipouro and meze had their moment of honour, and after we had recovered our strength, the arguments began again.
First about the tsipouro: with anise or without?
And then, of course: Canon or Nikon? Fuji or Pentax?
