Within Rhodian Hills and Pine Forest

Driving on through Rhodian countryside – inching higher up up, as paths get lost amidst the parched hills and buzzing pine forest – the wilderness becomes primal, more authentic. As we move away from the predictable coastal resorts, venturing out from the rushed tourist trail, it is possible, a must maybe, to discover elusive hidden gems which are so often missed. Perhaps this is as it should be, as forgotten treasures can be allowed to remain peacefully in their exquisite slumber, to evolve then undisturbed.

Between those well-trodden bus routes from Kolymbia on the island’s eastern coast, on towards the typically traditional bucket-list destination of Butterfly Valleys Park, random detours await exploration by the inquisitive traveller and those escaping the raucous crowds. Venture away; tread blissfully along alternative paths. Strive to capture those elusive finds in lesser known spots such as those to be found sitting at the base of Mount Profitis Ilias.

One such direction takes an unassuming drive-through by car, motorbike, scooter. Nature and its surrounding views satisfying in and of themselves, enveloping the escape away from the hustle and bustle. Upon the route, which by first glance seems just to be another part of the road system, a time-travellers treasure sits, encircling. Its reward almost imperceptible in the momentum and likely unexpected. To take a breathe, briefly, stumbling upon one ramshackle, abandoned Italianate quadrangle: namely Compochiaro, near the ghost-town village of Eleousa. Observe the seemingly irrelevant. You will not be disappointed.

It could be so easily dismissed, with perhaps only a brief attempt at courteous acknowledgment given. Appearing as ruins, with muted, sun-baked exterior, toned down yet by foliage shading, giving no hint. Yet to pause here, briefly, to stretch those legs, glancing shyly through a broken window or a crumbling doorway, clandestinely, you will be left utterly breathless. Within, an exquisitely preserved, untouched 1930s interior; it set alight by the poignantly filtered Rhodian sunlight. Perfection. You hold your breath as your eyes absorb.

Vivid. Spectacular. Mesmerising. Those few moments taken, will reap such awe, such sentimentally embedded rewards for sure. Is this for real? you will wonder. Have I stepped upon a dream? Tentatively you enter. Am I trespassing? Quickly curiosity overtaking hesitation. Soon all trepidation gets willingly cast aside, as jewel-rich painted rooms are discovered, explored. Time has enacted decay, yet beauty of another time endures. A photographers dream. The artists palate. Writers meet a muse.

Once home to Italian immigrant foresters, derelict abode now resting silently easy, with walls painted bright that reflect soulfully upon memories of a bygone era. As if this time stood still, paused, to remain eternally held in the warm embrace of the balmy greek heat. Allowing itself to be gratefully explored, respectfully devoured. For now, the eyes behold, as the heart feels the graceful golden-age gift given. A balm, so satisfying to the soul. Capture those frames. As if glimpsing the past, caught in arms of foliage that will increasingly cocoon over generations. Silently, slowly, architecture becoming impenetrable perhaps. For now not.

Written for the 'Travel Snaps' challenge 2024 ©