We climbed hundreds of steps to visit monasteries built centuries ago by monks atop the high rock pillars of Meteora. Our ascents were a breeze compared with the ropes, ladders, nets, and winches used by generations of monks, in this magical, captivating area in central Greece.
Meteora is one of those places that begs the question, “Why?” It seems like such an enormous effort to build on top of a rock 1,000 feet high, quite vertical, with no handy stream nearby for water nor soil for growing food. Did they try to locate their monasteries between heaven and earth?
Unlike other places we´ve visited (Portugal´s Coa Valley and Malta´s prehistoric temples come to mind) where the question can´t be easily answered, in Meteora we learned why. Tolis told us.
Wisely, we began our Meteora visit with an excellent sunset tour led by Tolis (short for Apostolis). He and mini-bus driver Dimitrios took a dozen of us past all six monasteries, inside St. Stephen´s monastery and the Byzantine-era church of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary, past hermit caves and sketes, and, finally, to a panoramic viewpoint to see the sunset. Along the way, Tolis regaled us with local traditions, myths, history, and amusing stories.
What, exactly, is Meteora?
The Monastery of Roussanou´s pillar is dwarfed by others.
Meteora is not a town – it´s the area that encompasses 24 monasteries (six that can be visited) and the formation of about 50 rock pillars that curve around the towns of Kastraki and Kalambaka like an embrace. The rocks are variously described as pinnacles, pillars, a rock forest, bluffs, outcrops, cliffs. Whatever you call them, it´s stunning. One of the most unusual places we´ve ever been.
The name comes from the Greek word “meteoros,” which means “suspended in the air.” It´s the same root word as for “meteor.” When fog and mist swirl between the pillars, the monasteries appear to be floating, suspended above the earth.
A monk named Athanasios, founder of the Monastery of Great Meteoron, gets naming credit; after climbing a broad rock in 1344, he called it “Meteoron.”
Meteora now has church and government protection and was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1988, all of which helps maintain the monasteries. The monks and nuns can´t do it on their own, said Tolis, who studied history and archeology.
How did these rock formations come about?
The Monastery of Roussanou overlooks the Prison Cave, where disobedient monks were sent for punishment.
In the midst of our visit, we stepped inside the small, free Museum of Geological Formations of Meteora.
All these cliffs and pillars were once under an inland sea; the sedimentary rocks were pushed up on an angle about 10 million years ago. Rainwater, ice and wind did their erosion dances, creating and enlarging cracks and caves, and leaving the towering outcrops behind. Softer sandstone and shale washed away, leaving mainly gneiss, with some granite, limestone, quartz and schist. Today´s fantastic shapes include caves and overhangs, some sheer rock faces, long cracks, small holes and the tall pillars.
People have occupied many of the natural caves for about 130,000 years. Monks expanded natural caves, building smaller sketes and larger monasteries. Tolis pointed out two famous caves, as we passed by on our way to the monasteries: Dragon´s Cave, and Prison Cave, where disobedient monks spent their punishment.
From caves to sketes to monasteries
We visited Meteora with our good friends Kathleen (centre right) and Arthur (right).
The first monks arrived in 1050, living first as hermits in caves. Gradually, they got together and built about 24 monasteries. Of those, six can be visited today. We visited St. Stephen´s during our tour with Tolis, and then Varlaam and Roussanou on our own. Along the way, we pieced together the captivating story of Meteora´s monks, amid Greece´s often-confusing history.
Tolis took us to several spots to see hermit caves, plus ruined hermitages and monasteries built into caves and clefts, rather than on top of pillars.
I stared with fascination at the small Hermit Caves of Badovas, trying to imagine just getting up those vertical rock walls, never mind living there for years on end. Wooden balconies jutted out, resting on angled supports, to give the hermits extra space. Some wooden ladders hung down, but not to the ground. Some hermits had lived there even until the early 1900s, climbing down to grow vegetables in the valley. Many didn´t survive the winters.
The Monastery of St. Adonis (left) and the Hermit Caves of Badovas showed the early evolution of monastic life.
Over time, hermits gradually got together on Sundays and feast days to share communal religious services. Eventually, they built what are called sketes – homes for several hermits. Sketes were a middle step between living alone in a cave and living a more organized life with other monks in a monastery.
The Monasteries of St. Adonis and St. Nikolas Badovas – both near the hermit caves – served as sketes for the hermits. Tolis said a 93-year-old monk still lives alone in the 14th-century St. Adonis (closed to the public).
In another place, Dimitrios stopped the mini-bus by the side of the road so we could see a horizontal split in the rock, hung with multi-coloured scarves. Every St. George´s Day (April 23), local young men scale the vertical cliff to the St. George Madilas cave, hang new scarves, take down the old scarves and give them to local people for good luck, said Tolis. The tradition began during the Ottoman occupation when an injured man gave his wife´s veil to St. George and the man recovered. Now, students go into exams bearing the scarves for luck.
The Monastery of St. Nikolas Badovas (left) is near the hermit caves. The scarves in St. George Madilas (St. George of the Scarves) cave bring good luck.
Tolis said many caves served as bomb shelters during the Second World War, and often as storage places for food supplies, since they act as natural fridges.
While the monasteries atop the pillars are fascinating, these hermit caves represent the original spirt of Meteora´s monks’ withdrawal from the world.
In the 1300s, Ottomans kept invading Greece, so the hermit monks began looking for safer places to live to avoid the bloodshed. That´s when those tall rock pillars began to look mighty inviting. Their inaccessibility – which makes us ponder the “Why?” today – was the very attribute that made them ideal when invading forces rolled into the valley.
As the monks built their monasteries, they also built ladders that they removed when they didn´t like the looks of visitors who came calling. Later, they added winches to haul up nets and baskets full of supplies… and monks!
The Ottomans conquered and occupied the area in 1393, spurring the foundation of even more monasteries into the 1400s.
The golden age came in the 1300s to 1500s – monasteries received donations of land and money from all over, Tolis said. At their wealthiest in the 1500s, the 24 active monasteries housed about 2,000 monks. But things declined in the 1600s to 1900s, as the Ottomans upped their taxes and harsh winters led many to starvation.
Monastic life revived in the last 100 years with improvements. In the 1920s, stairs and tunnels were constructed for easier access and safety. After the Second World War, the road Dimitrios drove us on was constructed, with electricity and running water not far behind. (They had collected rainwater in cisterns, but the monks apparently mixed wine with water for safety.)
Electric cable cars moved materials and monks to the monasteries. (We saw some still in use, but unfortunately visitors can´t get a ride.) Gradually, the ladders, ropes, pulleys and baskets declined, although we saw some still in use.
A cable car transported a monk to Great Meteoron, while visitors (left) trudged up 300 steps.
In the last 45 to 60 years, more monks and nuns have returned to the monasteries, said Tolis. Today, about 70 monks and nuns live in the six monasteries.
Tolis answered the “Why?” Monks built their monasteries high on these pinnacles for three reasons: isolation, protection and endurance. Isolation – so they could focus on spiritual growth without distraction. Protection – from marauding Ottomans. Endurance – because God honours hard work, perseverance and sacrifice.
Our next question was “How?” How did they build those monasteries, centuries before cranes and helicopters and power tools? As we visited three monasteries and learned about the other three, we pieced together the answers.
St. Stephen’s Holy Monastery
The lovely St. Stephen Monastery gardens were well tended.
“No photos in the chapels,” warned Tolis as we prepared to pay our 5 euros to enter St. Stephen Monastery. “The nuns will see you and won´t like it,” he added. “You can talk to the nuns but no selfies with them.”
St. Stephen was converted from a monastery to a nunnery by royal decree in 1961 and now houses 35 nuns, who sell their honey and religious souvenirs, plus collect admission fees. It´s the most-visited monastery because it´s the easiest to get into: a short stone bridge connects to its front door; no step-climbing required. Unfortunately, that meant hordes of visitors, with many groups more interested in posing for photos than exploring the lovely gardens and small chapel.
On the terrace, we admired the stupendous view of the valley and mountains. In the little museum, in a room that used to be the refectory, I studied a bible from the 1600s, paintings, vestments, holy hardware, and a hand-copied and illustrated liturgy from 1632.
My eyes didn´t know where to settle in the chapel. Frescoes covered every surface: walls, ceiling, beams, arches. But the icons (images of saints and other assorted holy people; not to be confused with computer icons) are not considered decorations; they narrate the history of Orthodox Christianity. I saw sinners descending to hell while saints and the faithful ascended to heaven. I learned that the dome in any Orthodox church caps the centre, symbolizing heaven, so has a mural of Jesus Christ in it.
Tolis said monks and nuns usually avoid visitors, preferring to isolate themselves in restricted areas. As I came down narrow steps, two nuns waited at the bottom for me to pass by. Dressed all in black, they stood watching mobs of visitors on their terrace.
“Efharisto,” I said. (Thank you.) I wanted to convey that I appreciated them opening their home to us.
“Parakalo,” they both replied, with wide smiles. (You´re welcome.)
Monastery of Varlaam
We awoke to a dusting of snow in early April, so dressed warmly for our visit to Varlaam. Kathleen and I happily added the required long skirts as another layer of warmth over our pants. The museum showed beautiful, gold-bedecked artwork (left). At the bottom, note the stylized Meteora rock pillars, with Varlaam in the middle.
Can you imagine this? In about the year 1350, the hermit Varlaam scaled the 1,224-foot-high pinnacle that now bears his name. I understand the urge to climb – one of our daughters does that all the time – but Varlaam then constructed a tiny chapel and cell to live in up there. Presumably, he wanted to escape the Ottoman raids but, even so, that takes real dedication to and love of solitude.
After he died, the rock remained deserted until two brothers, monks Theophanes and Nectarios, settled there in 1517, reconstructing the hermit´s buildings and turning them into the Monastery of Varlaam.
Of the three we visited, Varlaam was my favourite because there was so much to see. The barrel room housed – you guessed it – an enormous wooden wine barrel. There´s an old rope basket and wooden winch used to haul materials and monks up to the monastery. In the corner sat an engine, with a cable that ran to a metal platform used to scoop in the materials or people still hauled up to the monastery.
Varlaam´s museum exhibited paintings of monks eating and working in the vineyard. We later drove past monks trimming vines in a vineyard below the monasteries.
The katholikon (the chapel that forms the heart of each monastery) was richly embellished with frescoes – not just saints with gold halos, but also some quite gruesome scenes. I eyed someone being martyred by beheading, with blood gushing from his neck, and someone hung upside down and skinned. The mural of Alexander the Great´s tomb showed the conqueror as just an ordinary skeleton – a reminder that that´s what we all become after death, rich and powerful or poor and humble alike. A gold chandelier hung from the central dome. There was no rest for the eyes.
Varlaam´s excellent museum taught us about forms of monasticism and the life of monks. Black cassocks represent their mourning for the world´s sins. In the 1500s and early 1600s, this monastery had a gold embroidery workshop, one of the most famous and artistic of its time.
Drawings depicted Varlaam´s buildings today (left), with its staircase access, and in 1745 when monks and visitors climbed ladders.
Their daily schedule seemed brutal: they awaken at 3:30 a.m. and pray in their cells until 5:00, followed by services in the katholikon until 7:30 a.m., when they get breakfast. Then they work at their assigned duties until 5:00 p.m. when they take part in mass and vespers in the church. Then they have dinner, more church, and finally bedtime. (The sign didn´t specify that time.) On Sundays and feast days, church services and prayers are much longer.
After descending the 140 or 195 steps (reports vary, and I didn´t count), we descended a bit further into a small courtyard where the modern washrooms are. (Some other monasteries have squat toilets.) In the courtyard, workmen piled fireplace-sized logs into a metal basket, attached to a cable that ran up to a winch in the monastery far above. Clearly, the old system of getting materials up to the monastery still operated.
Holy Monastery of Roussanou
We paused on our way up Roussanou´s steps to take photos (okay, mainly to catch our breath). At the top, as we crossed a bridge into the monastery, we looked down into tidy gardens.
Roussanou was believed to have been the first hermit-monk who settled on the rock, but the Monastery of Roussanou was built later, starting in about 1530. It housed monks for most of its time, but in 1988 it became a nunnery and the sisters dedicated Roussanou to St. Barbara. Now, about 15 nuns live there.
Until 1922, an ancient monastic law forbade women from even approaching Meteora´s monasteries, never mind living in them. Tolis explained why that changed. In 1922, Varlaam had a fire and the first people who responded to help fight it were the women of Kastraki. As thanks, the monks allowed women to approach the monasteries. Thanks, dudes.
The road hugs Roussanou´s pillar. In the background, above Roussanou, you can see the Monastery of Holy Trinity.
Today, Meteora´s six monasteries shelter more nuns than monks, which surprised me. Tolis explained that monks who want to live in secluded monasteries can do so in many places in Greece, particularly at Mount Athos – an area like Meteora that has a concentration of monasteries. However, women aren´t allowed there, so Meteora is their only option.
Most monasteries perch on their pillars like a stork´s nest atop a chimney – filling all horizontal space and looking like they just grew from the rock. Roussanou is like that. It´s much smaller than Varlaam or Great Meteoron, and parking is limited. Result? Far fewer visitors, so it´s more peaceful.
No photos were allowed inside, but I can assure you that the stained glass in the katholikon and frescoes that date to 1560 were beautiful.
Monastery of Great Meteoron
The Monastery of Great Meteoron had a dusting of snow in early April. Note the cable car, to the right, taking monks or materials to the monastery.
We viewed the Monastery of Great Meteoron from its entrance gates with Tolis and studied it from afar when we visited Varlaam, just next door, but didn´t have time to go in. Just five monks live there now, said Tolis, and one is his former classmate.
It´s the best known, mainly because of its 300 steps, museum, and silver reliquaries containing the skulls of monastery founders Athanasios and Joasaph. You can also see more beautiful frescoes, ancient manuscripts and religious art. Great Meteoron became the richest and most powerful monastery thanks to vast donations and was built on the highest rock in the valley.
So, how did the monks build these places?
Early on, they used vinegar to soften the stone so they could more easily chip it away to enlarge cracks and caves, or insert attachments for ladders, for example. Ropes were replaced “when the Lord lets them break.” The Lord had not yet inspired today´s safety standards.
Before moving any stone or other materials to the top of the rock pillar, the monks first gathered it all on the ground. And that often took decades! In the case of Varlaam, the monks took 22 years to gather materials and just 20 days to build the chapel in 1541-42. Once they got going, they moved fast! For another monastery (my notes from our tour with Tolis weren´t clear on this point), it took 70 years to gather supplies! Why didn´t they transport materials as they gathered them? No explanation. What a curious system.
They built the chapel first, then cells for monks to sleep in, then expanded beyond that. And the process continues.
“They´re still being built,” said Tolis, pointing out a retaining wall at Varlaam constructed four years ago.
Perhaps they´ll build better washrooms next. For all its wealth, Great Meteoron has only squat toilets for visitors. But maybe that´s intentional…
Monastery of Holy Trinity
James Bond visited the Monastery of Holy Trinity to film “For Your Eyes Only.”
Set apart from the others, the Monastery of Holy Trinity reportedly has the most remote feel to it. Perhaps that´s why the producers of the 1981 James Bond “For Your Eyes Only” wanted to film inside the monastery, which generally is not permitted.
Tolis said they sweet-talked their way in, convincing the monks the film was about the Greek Orthodox Church. But the guns, helicopters and dead bodies must have given them away and the monks booted them out.
“Our monks were furious,” said Tolis.
Holy Trinity was a hideout for the resistance and was bombed four times during the Greek Civil War and the Second World War. Now, only one monk lives there, and he´s been all alone for 12 years.
Monastery of St. Nikolaos Anapausas
The Monastery of St. Nikolaos emerges from its rock pillar. On a medium-high spire to the right, work has been going on for decades to renovate an abandoned monastery, said Tolis.
When driving from Kastraki towards the monasteries, you first encounter the Monastery of St. Nikolaos Anapausas, which dates to the 1300s. Like other monasteries, it´s built around the central katholikon, with monks´ cells, a refectory, and other structures surrounding it.
One lone abbot reportedly lives there now.
At one point it was abandoned, and remained so until 1960, when all the monasteries began to undergo restoration. Buildings were repaired, frescoes repainted, gardens replanted. The work is ongoing. The monks and nuns continue to preserve their homes, cultivate their gardens, keep bees, make beeswax candles, publish books of history and theology, and greet visitors.
They also serve as examples of how to live a spiritual life, which bears consideration.
Holy Temple of Dormition of the Virgin Mary
Construction of the first church on this site began in the 4th century, but today´s Holy Temple of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary is much newer – it dates from the 1300s.
Back down in the town of Kalambaka, we visited the Holy Temple of the Dormition of the Virgin Mary. Tolis cautioned us: “You can take photos, but no flash, and do it like a spy.” The ticket lady fiercely protects her icons.
We wandered about, heads on swivels to examine the frescoes of icons that covered every surface, like the monastery chapels (where photos weren´t permitted.) Tolis explained why the faces of many saints were scratched off. The Ottomans, because they were Muslim and didn´t believe humans should be depicted, often defaced paintings, literally.
I hadn´t known before that “dormition” is the three days between the death of a human (usually Mary) and their subsequent rising into heaven as a saint. Roman Catholics call it the “Assumption” of Mary. Also, Mary was depicted wearing red, whereas Roman Catholic and Protestant images show her sporting blue robes. Many of the icons needed restoration.
“If you want to be an iconographer, you can work for the rest of your life,” said Tolis, who was baptized in this church.
Outside, a black-clad priest sprinkled holy water on someone´s new Hyundai – a common sight.
“So now they can drive like crazy.”
Sunset
Constructed of local stone, Meteora´s monasteries seemed to grow right out of their rock pillars.
Our last stop was a lookout point to see the sun set over the far, snow-capped mountains. We walked carefully over rough boulders to the sloping edge. The mountains cast shadows over the valley, but sunlight still kissed the monasteries for a while.
Then clouds moved in, turning the sunset into blah-ness. However, my mind still lingered on the monasteries, contemplating human ingenuity, spiritual devotion, and what life might have been like, and still is like, when people withdraw into relative isolation from the world, without the same distractions most people have.
It´s a way of life that´s difficult to imagine, but I´d probably get my blog stories written faster.
7 tips for a better visit
Meteora´s rock spires dwarf the town of Kastraki.
Planning a visit to the monasteries can be confusing at first. Published opening times conflict. Avoiding big bus tours is near impossible. Finding parking can be challenging in high season. Even figuring out the names of the monasteries is a trick when there are various spellings, in Greek and in English! “Moni” means monastery. “Agia” means saint.
Here are seven tips for a memorable visit:
- Consult the Visit Meteora website for a good overview of places to visit and guided tours.
- Please dress appropriately. To visit monasteries, everyone must wear shirts with sleeves; no bare shoulders. Men must wear long pants. Women must wear skirts past the knees. No shorts, short skirts, sleeveless shirts or bare midriffs. Some monasteries supply wrap skirts for women who don’t come prepared. I was annoyed to see some women tying them so that the split was in front, thus displaying their legs.
- Respect the rules about photos. No photos of monks or nuns. No photos inside chapels.
- Respect the sanctity of these monasteries. Meteora is considered holy land. We saw groups of people – mostly young – posing stupidly, cheering loudly, and generally having a party. When you’ve been invited into someone´s home and spiritual space, be part of the vibe that is there already; don´t be rude!
- Plan your transportation. The public bus that used to run from Kalambaka to the monasteries no longer runs. You can take an organized tour; our sunset tour was excellent. You can drive yourself, which we did on our second day. The roads up to and between the monasteries curve a lot, but they´re well paved, well signed, and have guard rails. In early April, we did not have trouble finding parking (it´s free) or waiting to enter any monasteries, but it reportedly gets much, much more difficult in the high season. Hiking up to and between monasteries is also possible, along the old monk paths.
- Assess your own fitness level. Can you handle 300 steps? My left knee was bothering me, so we limited our visits to just three monasteries. Holy Trinity and Great Meteoron each have about 300 steps, according to Visit Meteora, while Roussanou, Varlaam and Nikolaos average about 140. Reports on the number of steps do vary (I´m sure Varlaam had more). However all agree that St. Stephen´s is the easiest, since it´s connected by a short, level bridge. Some monasteries also have interior stairs and uphill paths.
- Don´t try to visit all six monasteries in one day. Firstly, you can´t; there´s always one closed. No two monasteries keep exactly the same hours. Check with Visit Meteora for monastery hours and which days they´re each closed, but be prepared for changes. Secondly, you´d be racing from one to the other. Visiting two to four in a day is a better pace, allowing a slower, more meaningful appreciation of these magical places.
Partway up our pilgrimage to Varlaam, we paused to look down.
We visited Meteora in Greece in April 2025. Find out where we are right now by visiting our ‘Where’s Kathryn?’ page.
Kathryn, please know how much we appreciate the huge amount of research and effort you put into each of your postings, but, this time, you’ve outdone yourself! This was an amazing installment, exploring, describing, and explaining such an exceptionally beautiful (and somewhat mysterious and puzzling) part of fabulous Greece. As always, your lovely photographs enhanced and complemented your concise, comprehensible text. Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into creating these wonderful – and eminently educational – travelogues. All my best to you and Bill. Keep on (safely) travelling!
Thanks, Emmett! I really appreciate hearing that. I do, in fact, do a lot of research after our travels and while writing my blog stories. The journalist in me wants to ensure all the details are correct. If I´m not sure about something, I´ll say so or leave it out.
Hi Kathryn – What an amazing tour… so many mind-boggling discoveries. Reminds us of our tour there in 2010; but our time was more accelerated than yours with much less detail. I find the Meteora Timeline’s span of so many centuries more than just interesting. Hugs to you both… – Moe
Thanks, Moe! Yes, Meteora is an incredible place. We could have spent much longer there. So many wonderful places in this world!