Nisyros by Motorbike

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Today is our day to tour the island of Nisyros by motorbike.  German friends Irene and Winfried , prepared a delightful breakfast buffet of fresh bread, sweet local onions and tomatoes, pastrami, yogurt. We walked down the street in Pali village where we are moored, rent  motor bikes and hit the road.

Celador motorcycle club

 This island is greener than most we've seen so far. Almost every hillside on this end of the island has been terraced extensively with cascades of dry stone walls over generations. Little stone huts are built into the hillsides here and there, blending in to the landscape.

Here are the terraces...and yes, this is a relatively green island!

 In earlier times grape vines, peppers, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, grain, olive trees and were cultivated. Today nothing is planted, but fig, olive, and scrub oak shade the terraces, their trunks leaning in to the old stones. The road snaked higher and higher, and the air cooled, scented by dry grass and rosemary. Topping a crest, we could now see the ancient caldera of the volcano which formed the island.   We followed the winding ribbon of road down and down to the bottom, where farm fields checker the flat crater bottom.  Ahead is the volcano national park. Entering, we saw cinder cones and cliffs streaked with sulfur-colored rock; it is primal, timeless, unconquerable. Following a footpath down to the center of the newest crater, the ground sounded precariously  hollow underfoot and there were bubbling mud pots.

Sulfur crystals at the mouth of a fumarole

Fumeroles steamed , with crystalline crusts of sulfur around their vents. Satisfied (and slightly unsettled) with our explorations, we walked back to the visitor center, regrouped over cool drinks of water, and continued our ride.   Zig-zagging up out of the valley we rode to the scenic little village perched on the highest edge of the crater, white cubic buildings clinging to the ridgetop.

We had a light lunch of cheese and fresh Greek salad, with topped with pickled caper-vine leaves. Delicious.

The million dollar view.

 In the front room of the cafe was a broken mercury glass mirror in an old and ornately carved wooden frame, and next to it hung a sepia-toned portrait of a young soldier from the 1940's.  I asked about the mirror. The host explained that the young soldier was from Athens and was killed right on the doorstep during WWII, the mirror broken by a bullet. They still honor to his memory.  Walking through the little cubist village, we found the natural sauna (a little room over a volcanic vent).

 We continued on down to the town of Mandraki to visit the town and castle.  The streets are pretty narrow lanes with white washed houses and painted doorways.

So many pretty views in the warren of lanes...

Many have interesting cast brass knockers and doorknobs and whimsical artistic decorations.

 We made our way to the monastery and beheld sweeping views of the white  town, the hazy sea and nearby islands.

Lots of architectural shots...it was a quiet day in the lanes of Nicyros.

 We continued uphill to the edge of town, past ruins of little farm cottages built into the hillside terraces, up and up to the walls of the fort.  Massive black volanic blocks comprised the walls of the Hellenistic battlements. We rambled through the fort, climbing to the top of the  walls, more sweeping views of the horizon lost in sea mist.

Returning to Pali, we dined again at the Captain's Place, on kebabs and mezes. Returning to the boat, we continued the party with red wine, watching the sailors having fun in the little tavernas and cafes along the quay astern of the boat.

As the night grew later, the cafes wound down and  the tavernas livened up. At Saloniki Taverna, the music of a traditional viola-like instrument inspired strapping young Greek with a fuzzy pony tail, perhaps a family proprietor, to start a circle dance in the Greek way. Tipsy German sailors joined enthusiastically with their own interpretations. In the boat, we laugh and chat in the cockpit, growing sleepier from a busy day. At last Irene and Wilfried raised the white flag and retired to bed. Ron followed directly.  I had a yearning to go over and join the dance, and I think----The Time is Now!  I tiptoed cross over the passerelle to the quay and hurried over.  As I entered, the young man rose from the table and I smiled and said "Ella!"  He grinned and started the dance. We were joined quickly by the Germans and the "dancing bear".  It was an easy step; one step left and two right.  An old lady sitting with her husband caught my eye, she smiled and nodded approvingly that I'd learned the step. The song ended too soon, and it was late. The old lady stood and with a sweeping gesture, announced "Kali Nicta"...(good night... this party's shutting down).  I shook the Greek lad's hand, and got Euro kisses on the cheek. I shook the old lady's hand, we smiled at each other about the dance.  I turned to go, and one of the workers pointed back and said ..."the papa".  I turned and shook hands with the old man too. It was yet another fine moment  to remember.