Metsovo: land of the Vlach.
If your vision of Greece is a tranquil mountain town where young and old gather in the central square at dusk, and everything comes to life–life as it was 100 years ago–Metsovo just may be your nirvana.
The Vlach are descendants of Roman legionnaires who were sent here in ancient times to guard the mountain passes. They were originally shepherds who led a nomadic existence throughout central and eastern Europe, traveling to wherever they could find the best grazing for their sheep. Today, they’ve settled into flower-loving stone houses and no longer roam the countryside.
The Vlach speak their own Arromanian language, heavily influenced by latin and Italian, and they’re extremely hospitable and friendly.
It seems wherever I go in Greece, children like the boy below, wait on me in restaurants, serve me my coffee, and ring me up in stores and bakeries. The all seem so capable.
Businesses in Greece are almost all private or family owned.
The bus from Meteora to Metsovo didn’t actually stop in Metsovo, it stopped 4 km outside of town, on the side of a highway. The bus driver looked distraught when I asked him if there was a taxi nearby. I was the only passenger pazza enough to get off on the side of a highway. The poor bus driver didn’t know what to do, he had a hard time leaving me, but he also had a busload of passengers.
Then a lady driving a fruit and vegetable truck stopped and asked me if I needed a ride into town. The bus driver and I both thanked her profusely. We finagled my massive suitcase over her peppers and beans and she drove me into freakin’ Brigadoon.
The elderly carry on the old ways but (as everywhere) traditional dress will die out with these 70 and 80 year-olds.
Go soon.
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