In Greece, mountains, lakes, rivers and seas, gods and mortals, all find their origin in myth. When the gods of Olympus battled the Giants, Poseidon broke off a piece of the island of Kos to crush the giant Polybotes. And thus, he created Nisyros, the wealth and fertility of its soil, simultaneously dangerous and alluring, with the giant rumbling evermore, a volcano deep in the bowels of the earth. And between Kos and Nisyros, the rock fragments produced Gyali, where the earliest evidence of Neolithic human existence has been found from a time when obsidian, that volcanic glass, was the pinnacle of technology. Classical Nisyros with its high fortification walls that stand imperiously on the summit of the hill next to the sea, with its wide gates and, inscribed in large letters, the testimony that demonstrates a perpetual breaking of rules, which in its turn reveals the communality of human temperament everywhere in this land: “ΔΑΜΟΣΙΟΝ ΤΟ ΧΩΡΙΟΝ ΠΕΝΤΕ ΠΟΔΕΣ ΑΠΟ ΤΟΥ ΤΕΙΧΕΟΣ”, i.e., the space surrounding the wall is public … and must not be encroached upon. Nisyros’ neighbour to the west, Pergousa – a corruption of the name Pyrgousa, derived from the ancient settlement’s towers (pyrgoi) – which gaze motionless over both ocean and time. And even further to the west, like a glimmering oil lamp (a kandeli) in the calm or storm of the Aegean, Kandelousa, a spot of land in the immensity of blue-maned Poseidon. Further away, southwards, an island, Tilos that appears to have escaped the fate of the sea, with bays that welcome you without wanting to let you depart, which seek to keep you there, since it is the only one of the region’s islands with abundant water and soil for cultivation, mountains with pastures … And castles, high and impregnable, stubbornly built on the same site, with battlements and rooftop chambers, and the church of the Almighty God at the most elevated spot so as to be closest to Him. Built upon and of ancient stones, inscribed with decrees and names as if just yesterday, figures passing and gone, yet still standing invisible and untroubled. The history of Tilos is a palimpsest, like the Byzantine plaster on the ancient stones, the undercoat laid down by the painter’s resolute hand with a line that refuses to fade throughout the passing of the centuries, like Christ Himself in His eternal Glory, with hosts of many-eyed Cherubim below, while six-winged Seraphim surround Him in the arc of the curve of the sanctuary, in the Holy of Holies. On the same island, in the Charkadio Cave, dwarf elephant remains prove that the island was cut off from the Asian landmass by geological phenomena, leaving the huge animals to stagnate, their mass withering until they came completely undone. And if Sappho, that offspring of Lesbos is a famous poet, Tilos too can boast of its own Erinna, who dwelt during the classical period on this incredible island; where even today’s dead are ruled by the past, since ancient altars, columns, and reliefs are scattered among contemporary graves in the cemetery of the church of Ayios Konstantinos. Closer to the territory of Rhodian Kamiros, one finds Halki. On the brow of the hill, the medieval castle built on the ancient fortification with its ashlar walls and open-air sanctuaries of Zeus of the Sky and Hecate of the Dark Moon, with architectural members and inscriptions, and the ruins of Byzantine houses and frescoed churches, stood fast until late in the 19th century, when the town poured forth from the foot of the castle to spread comfortably into the port. Arid land with stone beehive-shaped structures for farmers in the sparse lowlands and thin rock vegetation supporting as much as possible the bee colonies in their hives. Sailing along the coast of abandoned Alimnia, with its Neolithic remains on the hill, hewn shipyards on the shore, and the abandoned barracks from the Italian occupation, the journey continues on to Symi, an island resting in the deep gulf of Doris, opposite the Karian shores, an island group in itself: Sesklio, Kouloundros, Trombeta, Nimos, Plati, Megalonisi, Karavalonisi, Marmaras. On many of these islets, the ancient remains are visible even to this day. With the Genoese castle looming over the town of Chora, built on and next to the ashlar wall, with the port’s two and three-storey neoclassical buildings, it is a sight for sore eyes early in the morning and at twilight, while its past hovers over fragments gathered from various periods and its monuments still await a scholarly interpretation, an identity. Yet, the indestructible foundation of the island is the monastery of the Archangel Michael Panormitis, a monument whose history may have begun with an early Christian basilica, which was active until and during the Greek resistance, with its familiar Dodecanesian cobbled courtyards with Byzantine symbols and the sea’s perpetual swell registered as a zigzagging line, black for the depths, white for the foam. Inside, the walls, painted up to and
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