abandoned house

DSCF6441

I love discovering lonely places. One day, out hiking on our Greek island, we stumbled upon an abandoned home. It still had some furniture and signs of earlier life, although it was quickly becoming derelict. As we briefly poked around, I was delighted to make the surprise discovery of a poem that was painted on the living room wall behind the sofa:

DSCF6442 (1)

The Greek was way beyond my level, so I asked a Greek friend to translate. She tells me that the poem is by a famous Greek poet called Kostis Palama and translates roughly as follows:

Let other faraway travelers search for the magical edelweiss on the highest mountains of the Alps

Unmoving spirit, that every April you grace me in my village garden

Oh, lakes and fjords, and western palaces, temples, and ports

Northern lights, tropical blossoms, and meadows

Wonders of the art, and unbelievable beauties of the world

I only love this small little island and always keep its image in my eyes.

I love the idea of someone passing their days in this once-pretty home. They sat on that wooden sofa, looking out to sea, and loving their “small, little island.” It made me sad to see that its day had passed.

DSCF6443

DSCF6444

For this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge, Surprise: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/surprise-2/

Every summer for about the last ten years, I’ve tried to retrace steps to the other side of the island where we usually don’t visit very often. The reason is that getting back is difficult because there’s no bus to take you back and its usually too hot or too dark to walk both ways in August.

This year we worked out the logistics with motorbikes and Latham and set off early evening to find an old abandoned house that I remember from years back, Hara. It’s distinctive gate has its name written above in rusting letters, “Xara” (Hara) meaning “joy” in Greek. I hadn’t seen it for about fifteen years and remembered little except that distinctive gate. I did recall though that it had an intact roof and locked doors and windows, which wasn’t the case when we visited this time.

The roof had collapsed in many places, some rooms were filled with broken rafters and tiles, but a few still remained recognizable as their original function. We wandered around, exploring the nooks and crannies of what was once someone’s home. The house once belonged to the poet sisters Mary and Irene Botassi, and Irene’s husband Herman, after they retired from living in Switzerland. As far as I can figure, the house has been abandoned for over fifty years. It was both fascinating and sad to see it slowly crumble.

Click here for other rust submissions