God Spots

We're in Milos, in the northern Cyclades, cooling our jets waiting for a weather window to cross into the Saronic Gulf.

Small jetty at Pollonia, Milos

So, as usual, we took an exploratory trip around the island, this time by motor scooter and by our trusty Bromptons.

Quay side street, Pollonia

White volcanic cliffs at Sarakinia

Fjord-like inlet at Sarakinia

I've started to wonder about the distribution of churches in the Greek Islands. Sometimes, its like there are more churches than there are inhabitants. Often, churches are located in places that are impossible, or at least very difficult, to access.

Fishing village church

'Top of the hill' church in Plaka

Isolated promontory church

I've come to realize that the churches aren't built to accommodate parishioners' needs to meet and worship. They seem to hark back to more animist times, where places of worship were located at 'spiritual sites'. I've come to call these places 'God spots', where people must have felt some immanent spiritual force that they felt called for the construction of a church.

Another lonely promontory, a God spot?

Headlands with majestic views, high inaccessible places, harbours where the earth meets the sea, steep imposing valleys.... all these places seem to hint at higher things, other planes. They all seem to be adorned with churches, all vie for attention as competing God spots.

Spot the God Spot

Is this a harking back to earlier times when the spirits of the earth, wind, sea and fire needed propitiating? Is there an echo of the temple  at Delphi, where the priestesses could commune with the gods through the sulphurous fumes?

Distant view to a church from the Chora on Milos

The fumes were said to issue from a cleft created by the stream of blood from the murdered Python. Python was meant to be an earth spirit, main claim to fame was raping Leto while she was pregnant with Artemis and Apollo. Python was then conquered by Apollo and buried at Omphalos (the navel of the world).

A more accessible church... for the masses?

So, perhaps our churches and temples on 'God Spots' are echoing this theme of places made sacred by their juxtaposition with natural features that stand out: mountains, cliffs, the inaccessible, the lonely and isolated.... somehow closer to God.

Fishing village on Milos

We've always loved the simplicity of Greek fishing villages, but on Milos, these were really brought to life: simple colours and astonishing locations, right in the lap of the sea.

Tender by the back door

Stunning locations, perched on the sea's steep edge

Fishing village church.

Absolute sea front!

All this sea living made us hanker to experiment with some more sea-food cooking for ourselves. Our first experiment with white-bait on Crete was not a huge success, so I decided to take on a few octopus for size. We bought two large specimen from a fisherman on a boat just along from us in Milos.

Preparing the catch

Many years ago, my father, who was an avid spear fisherman (that's the underwater variety) used to catch abalone on our annual vacations on the wild and untamed south coast of NSW. While fresh lobster were boiling in a 44 gallon drum on the beach, and drummer and grouper fish were being grilled on open-air barbecues, the kid's job was to pound heck out the the abalone, which was incredibly tough to eat if not so treated. I'd heard that octopus was improved by the same treatment.

Beat that octopus

Our Belgium friends Eddy and Hilde were surprised that we had to bludgeon our catch to death in such a brutal manner.

Pavlov departing Milos for Kythnos

But as much as we loved Milos, we had to make tracks. We have a date with a mechanic in Sousaki in the Saronic Gulf. Pavlov's generator has died, and Megan has demanded a new windlass that won't cause her to have a heart attack every time we anchor. So we must make some miles, and head out of the Cyclades and into the heart of Greece.

Beach side restaurant in Kythnos