Pyli, Greece: The Gateway to the Mountains

Pyli, or Πύλη, is located in Thessaly, a region of Greece well-known in mythology as the home of the gods. With approximately 2,000 inhabitants, Pyli is a classic χωριό, or village. It’s one of the few places in the world where you’ll find people who share my last name.

As a child, all I knew of Pyli were the four faded pictures hanging on my grandparent’s living room wall and my grandfather’s stories. Papou would often tell my brothers and me about growing up on his family farm with his four younger siblings. His favorite stories involved his pet donkey, Gitchou. 

In 2008, I finally got to see the world he grew up in firsthand. On a solo trip 10 years later, I made it a point to stay in Pyli for a few days. 

The name Pyli means gateway, which is fitting as it’s the opening to the Pindos mountain range, known as the spine of Greece. I had the perfect view of the mountains from my room at Hotel Babanara. It rained during my stay in the village, but that didn’t stop me from sitting out on my balcony and taking in the view. 

It was awe-inspiring to realize that my family had been looking at the same mountains for generations. Papou once told me a story about how his family took cover in the mountains when the village was raided by the Italians during World War II. He was only 19 at the time, but the memory stayed with him his entire life.

On one particularly rainy day, I took a stroll through the village, glad to have the streets to myself. I marveled at the grape vine jungles growing in people’s yards, and the buckets and buckets of tomato plants growing in driveways. Papou always said the vegetables and fruit were so much better in Greece than America, and now I could see it for myself. 

On a less rainy day, I made the 20-minute walk from Hotel Babanara to the famous Bridge of Agios Vissarionas. Built in 1514, the bridge has survived the Ottoman Empire and the Italian invasion and German occupation of World War II. It’s also the same bridge that Papou would cross with Gitchou.

I sat in the middle of the bridge and contemplated how many of my family members had crossed this bridge before me.

When I returned to the hotel, I asked how far of a walk it was to Porta Panagia, a Byzantine-era church. The owner was kind enough to offer me a ride. When we got there, we realized the church was closed, but I still was able to snap a shot through the wrought iron gates. 

Though I only stayed in Pyli for two days, I was so grateful for my time there. In the midst of a busy trip, I found peace among the mountains and river. It was a blessing to be able to call my grandfather in America and hear his laughter from over 4,500 miles away as I explored his village on my own.