Island of Discoveries
Kastelorizo is a
sparse Greek rock of an island within shooting distance of the
southern Turkish coast. But below the sage and thyme, and under the
cold slabs of the floor of the derelict church of St. George,
history is entangled in roots and foundations – and all you have to
do is look for it. Marc-Antoine Dunais reports.
For most visitors
who are disgorged daily by ferry from the nearby island of Rhodes,
Kastelorizo’s historical perspective does not go any deeper than the
years shown by the elegant facades of the harbor’s houses -- some
decaying, many under renovation, a growing number looking primp and
shiny, festooned with riotous flower pots and cats curled elegantly
inside them.
But for those
brave enough to ascend Kastelorizo’s plateau, much more ancient
signs of civilization can be found. For example, a Lycian tomb, with
two coffin-like openings that stare from the rock like dark eyes.
And as a grim reminder of less glorious times, ammo boxes from World
War II, gutted, rusty and irremediably off duty.
Over the
centuries, Kastelorizo has kept adding to its list of illustrious
bedfellows. The island was alternately conquered and lost by
Byzantines, Turks, Francs, Venetians, Ottomans and the powers of
latter-day twentieth century Europe. In the Dorian period, the
island came under control of the neighboring island of Rhodes. Then
in Byzantine times it became one of the empire’s far-flung outposts,
occasionally claimed – and then lost again – by the Ottoman Turks.
Crusaders moved
in early in the 14th century, dispatching their
unfaithful knights to repent there. And so Kastelorizo’s suitors
came and went, claiming, attacking, and occasionally taking over.
Today, the
island is unmistakably Greek and the most serious conflict that is
likely to occur has to do with land rights and proof of ownership.
Even the most decrepit, irrecoverable ruins in the island’s small
harbor town have signboards advertising the name of the owner, and
very often that of the forefathers.
When you live
half-way around the world, these things tend to matter. Greek
Australians are back in the town their ancestors escaped from
decades back, fleeing poverty and war. With money to burn, they’re
doing up the remains of their family homes and nurturing the links
that tie them to this land, half-way across the world from
lamingtons, Foster’s beer and koalas.
After franc knights,
Byzantine traders, ottoman sultans, Italian troops, it is now the
Timberlands and Teevas of tourists that are fouling Kastelorizo’s
soil. When the sun creeps up from the Anatolian mountains across the
narrow stretch that separates Kastelorizo from the Turkish mainland,
this picture-perfect postcard comes to life with furtive movements.
A door shuts and a shadow slips outside a house, bent under the
weight of wet laundry. Early greetings bounce off the still,
translucent waters of the harbor and the waterfront houses.
The smell of
Turkish coffee wafts in the air and the church bell strikes 7 a.m.
Small fishing boats bob good-naturedly, waiting for the next outing.
The organic fixtures of kafenia (coffee shops), men sip
bottomless coffees and fidget with their komboloi (worry
beads). Photogenic cats lounge under geraniums in full bloom or try
to make drying octopus drop from the clothes-line, just by staring
them out.
It is this kind
of peace that is drawing not only Aussies and day-trippers, but
people from all over the world, including two Dutch ladies who
together have opened a café next to the ferry jetty. Their customers
include Italians yachties, Bulgarian and Albanian workers who are
helping restore the town’s collapsing buildings and a French family
of 12 who have traveled to the island to cast the ashes of one of
theirs into the sea.
Until recently,
visitors dining at the harbor’s tavernas (restaurants) were
serenaded to the notes of a local accordion player. Not any more. He
was found one morning, floating in the bay face down.
For those who
stay year-round on the island, life is ruled by God, the weather and
(or) tourists. And then, there is the Eye. Glassy blue beads, with a
white mark in the middle, designed to ward off evil. You’ll see them
hanging from window stills, or staring at your from the ground in
front of doors, sometimes two next to each other. In Greece,
superstition is never far from fervent orthodox practice, and both
seem to be doing fine on the island. Then again, the papas
(Orthodox priest) runs his own bar, of which he is rumored to be a
major patron too.
Indeed, things
are never what they seem on Kastelorizo.
