Τhe best news of the day

The GPS was telling me that I would reach my destination in less than a minute. The route I had taken wasn’t long, less than an hour, but the second half was so enjoyable that I wouldn’t have minded if it had lasted longer. Leaving the flatlands behind and climbing the mountain roads is always refreshing, especially on a hot summer day. And it was a hot day indeed.

But the air was cooler up there, and it felt fresher somehow. The woodland must have had something to do with it, as well as the plane trees scattered all around. Driving slowly, I noticed a glimpse of the village through the trees and immediately pulled over. It was a good decision. The village was glowing in the golden afternoon light, its rooftops framed by branches in a way that looked like a painting. I reached for the camera and took the first picture of the day.

As I was soaking in the beauty of the scenery, the phone rang. Annoying as it sounded in the rural silence, I was glad it did. My appointment was running late, which meant I had a few extra minutes, not just to look at the village from afar, but to actually wander its narrow streets. And that, to me, was the best news of the day.

Karia is one of the hundreds of villages that flourished in the Greek countryside until WWII and were gradually abandoned in the years that followed. Even though it remains well preserved and even expanding slightly, with new houses built on the edges, it is now mostly a place of vacation homes. In the cold months of winter, only a few dozen people stay behind. The school closed more than twenty years ago, a clear sign of a shrinking population. Today, all this beauty is enjoyed mostly during holidays, long weekends, and summer celebrations.

Yet as I walked slowly through the village, camera in hand, I noticed traces of life that went beyond the postcard image. It reminded me that places like this never fully die. Τhey simply wait for voices and footsteps to return.

And as long as the village stands, there is always hope. Hope that one day things might shift, that another generation might make the opposite move of their ancestors, leaving the cities to rediscover and repopulate the rural, harsh, yet extraordinarily beautiful mountains.