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My information on Crete in the Byzantine period is sadly minimal. I spent so much dosh on the guide books detailing Bronze Age and Classical Crete that I couldn't afford to splash out on the later stuff, and my general guide to Cretan archaeology & history is a bit sparse. Our tour itinerary had all the information I needed, but sadly, it's done a midnight flit. So I guess you'll have to make do with the pretty pictures.
Our first visit is to a working nunnery, the name of which escapes me. I'm not a fan of any organised religion, but I love venturing into a church or cathedral which still performs the same function today as it did hundreds of years ago. The atmosphere invariably conveys a feeling of longue duree beautifully.
Nunneries and monasteries succeed in invoking this sensation to an even greater degree, perhaps because their place in our own culture has dwindled so dramatically over the last half century or so. Venturing within the precincts of a working monastery or nunnery conjures up the feeling that you've stepped back through time. The tourists are there on sufferance, their presence patiently endured by the inhabitants, who are trying to get on with their daily rounds of prayer, contemplation & ...
Here's some pictures of the church attached to a monastery/nunnery on Crete. If anyone can tell me its name, I'd be delighted to hear it (NB: I've done my research, It's the Holy Monastery of Karajotissa)! The church is famed for its frescoes - unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos of the interior.
Our final destination for the day is another tiny church, located in the eastern part of the island, near Elounda.
Our first visit is to a working nunnery, the name of which escapes me. I'm not a fan of any organised religion, but I love venturing into a church or cathedral which still performs the same function today as it did hundreds of years ago. The atmosphere invariably conveys a feeling of longue duree beautifully.
Nunneries and monasteries succeed in invoking this sensation to an even greater degree, perhaps because their place in our own culture has dwindled so dramatically over the last half century or so. Venturing within the precincts of a working monastery or nunnery conjures up the feeling that you've stepped back through time. The tourists are there on sufferance, their presence patiently endured by the inhabitants, who are trying to get on with their daily rounds of prayer, contemplation & ...
Here's some pictures of the church attached to a monastery/nunnery on Crete. If anyone can tell me its name, I'd be delighted to hear it (NB: I've done my research, It's the Holy Monastery of Karajotissa)! The church is famed for its frescoes - unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos of the interior.
The architectural detail was nice - I liked the use of tiling round the window surrounds:-
Another church now, the Church of Panagyia Kera ('Our Lady Bright as Wax') near Kritsa. The frescoes in here were absolutely stupendous - once again, we were told not to take photographs. Sadly, I learned later that there's nothing wrong with taking photographs inside the churches - it's the use of a flash that's forbidden, which is fair enough, and standard practice for delicate substances like pigments, plaster and textiles.
Our final destination for the day is another tiny church, located in the eastern part of the island, near Elounda.
And just to give you some idea of what you've been missing, here's a fresco:-
Not the best of examples, and the camera wasn't happy about taking the picture, anyway, but it's better than nothing (yes, I'd finally established on this, our second last day, that it's permissible to take photographs without a flash!). What I liked about this one was the superimposition of the two styles. I'd guess that the geometric, earlier style is contemporary with the Arab occupation of Crete, while the later, figurative style is contemporary with the Venetians.
