Κάστρο or ‘Kastro’ (Greek for castle) is a medieval village that sits high above the mountains on the North Aegean Island of Thassos, a subsidiary Island of Greece, that earned its name from the fort that was initially built here in the 14th century. Though only the ruins of the walls remain, originally the castle was built for the islands coastal people to hide from pirates and raiders who approached this vulnerable island from Asia and the Mediterranean in the 1400's. The town is so secluded that it has always been considered a strenuous journey to find even for those who knew of it. Though never intended to be a permanent place of residence, eventually its people became a self-reliant society and lived their entire lives through generations up here until they eventually died out during the mid-20th century. The town is now ghostly quiet, with many homes boarded shut and wild animals using some as shelter from the blistering heat.
At 650 meters above sea level, our trip involved a long, steep and lonely car journey from the coast right into the center of the island, away from the sound of the ocean that flourishes with tourism and any signs of 21st century life. The only sounds up here are the bells around the necks of mountain goats used by farmers to find their herd amongst the rocks. The flag of Greece is flown in front of one of the first homes we find, but there are no signs of civilian life. A hand-made sign written in wood at the end of the mountain road reads ‘Welcome to the Castle’ in Greek, whilst shrines are dotted around the villages that we’re told pay respects to those who died from accidents or unnatural causes here over the years. These sorts of shrines are used throughout the island, usually to remember a loved one who died in a vehicle accident on the winding coastal roads.
For as long as we could bear the heat, we walked in and out of the small, narrow roads lined with rocks from crumbled buildings and unworn paths. The entire village essentially leads towards an opening where the castle once stood, that now serves as the grounds for the white chapel, and the 400 year old ossuary of this forgotten mountain village. Rarely heard of by most people, ossuaries are frequently used where burial space is scarce. A body is first laid to rest in a temporary grave, then after some years the skeletal remains removed and placed here. The greatly reduced space taken up by an ossuary means that it is possible to store the remains of many more people in a single tomb than if the coffins were left in their original place. These are also no ordinary coffins, as materials were so hard to come by, regular household containers were used to contain the bodies as well as the person’s sentimental items. In this particular village high up in the mountain, the solid rock below the soil makes it almost impossible to dig individual graves, so six centuries of generations all rest in this same place together, surrounded by their belongings and family heirlooms. The last generations to live here mostly relocated to coastal towns or passed away some 50 years ago, leaving their resting ancestors behind. Many elderly residents choose to be brought back here to rest despite having relocated to other parts of the island. Generations upon generations of families are still piled together here, but due to the dry and hostile climate it is unlikely they will ever be moved. Such climate however is the simple reason why there is very little decay here, with some early dates inscribed onto these items having hardly shown any signs of weathering. The lack of moisture keeps this place almost frozen in time.
Whilst Kastro has stood still for decades, the coastal towns of the island have progressed into modern society, but during winter months some still make the long journey here to check on the village and clear the approaching roads from debris once the peak time for tourism in the summer has passed and the coastal towns become quiet and less profitable. Some even place artificial flowers on the porches of homes much in the same way one might pay respects to a relatives gravestone. This is seen as a way for the islanders to prevent Kastro, the place which gave their forefathers shelter from invasion, from being forgotten. Still claiming ownership and responsibility of your ancestors cottages or houses in Kastro is considered respect-worthy, and group trips for Kastro during winter months are a tradition that brings the islanders back to their roots. This tradition is known as ‘St. Atanasie’, when natives from every corner of the island make their way here to this usually desolate place and congregate around these buildings. A priest sets off to visit the villagers and break bread with them, and candles are lit for the souls of ancestors in the ossuary. Whilst these houses are no longer suitable more modern living, a law is still in place that keeps these buildings from being changed or altered in material style. Each house has a fireplace, and there is no electricity in the village, so the evenings are spent by candle light or using oil lamps. During the night, lanterns are lit in every window and above the front door of every crumbling house, and they are the only light in the village covered by darkness. The only building left functional in the center of Kastro is the village tavern which for this brief moment becomes full of people, laughter and smoke, and the village almost comes to life again. St Atanasie is the time when all the young people, from almost all places on the island, have the opportunity to gather in one small place, and that way remain closely connected. The difference in attitude towards this abandoned village to what we might usually expect is astonishing, as back home we might expect a place like this to be littered with graffiti and signs of vandalism. It is a brilliant testament to the people of the island to know that whilst Kastro is gone, it will never be forgotten.
