Original subtitles

(modern middle-eastern style music)

Series four of My Greek Odyssey

sees us traveling through the southern islands

of the Dodecanese,

from Kos to Symi and Rhodes

all the way down to Kastellorizo.

It's a region of Greece with significant influence

from Asia minor and landscapes quite unlike other parts

of the Mediterranean.

The history is as dramatic as the scenery.

And of course the cuisine is unforgettable.

There's the cliche beaches and wonderful people

plus unique cultural elements

that give each destination its own personality.

In this episode, I'm continuing my time on Symi.

We've already spent a couple of days here

but with so much to see and do,

we decided to stay the week.

I'm also gonna visit one of the smaller nearby islands,

Alimia, abandoned for just on 50 years,

this little gem has some great stories

that have sat under the radar for for way too long.

After a busy few weeks traveling from island to island,

the crew was starting to get a little tired.

Yeah, there's plenty of tougher jobs out there,

but lugging heavy camera gear around in the Greek summer

takes its toll.

So a couple of days of rest were in order,

and there are few places better to spend some downtime

than Symi.

For me, having a break means learning something new.

In this case,

it was the flight board that drew my attention.

As embarrassing as continually falling off was,

all it did is make me more determined.

My son, Araneus, was watching the whole time.

And he'd mastered in 10 minutes.

If I didn't get it right,

I'd be hearing about it all night.

Most people that visit Symi

don't venture beyond the main Harbor of (indistinct).

It's understandable,

as there's so much to offer within walking distance.

If you only ever saw this part of the island,

then you still have had an unforgettable time.

There's a reason this island attracts thousands of tourists

throughout the summer.

But there's another side to it,

one that's a bit more peaceful and remote

with beaches and towns that are not only to locals

and a handful of adventurous travelers.

Despite having been here several times,

I haven't seen the complete picture.

But thanks to this odyssey,

I have the time to better explore these little gems.

Heading south,

we made our way to one of the most visited monasteries

of Greece.

From there, the plan was to travel a short distance

across the channel to an uninhabited island.

After that, we would be turning (indistinct)

toward the east coast beaches.

In the southern most part of the island

is this bay of Panormitis.

In Greek that means anchorage in all weather.

It's also the name taken by the local monastery

worshiping St. Michael.

They get 150,000 tourists here a year,

pilgrims coming to worship the patron Saint,

the patron Saint of Symi.

(monks chanting)

Along with its ecclesiastical history,

during the second world war,

the monks had set up a signaling transmitter here

to provide sanctuary for the allied soldiers.

In February of 1944,

that signaling transmitter was found by the Nazis.

The fryer Abbott, (indistinct) and two of his helpers

were executed right here in front of the monastery.

(monks chanting)

I get a bit emotional

thinking about these slices of history.

The story of human sacrifice here and other islands

is similar in many other parts of the world

impacted by conflict.

People have risked their lives

trying to preserve their freedom and way of life

and to protect the vulnerable.

I often wonder what I would have done in the same situation.

It makes me think of those that have made these sacrifices

as being heroes.

This has been a religious site for 1500 years or more.

The current Venetian-style monastery

was built in the 18th century and amongst other things

features the highest Baroque bell tower in the world.

It's a major pilgrimage site for Orthodox Greeks

who come to pray to the famous icon

of the Archangel Michael Panormitis

who's the patron sign of the island and guardian of sailors

across the entire Dodecanese.

Beyond that,

the frescas that adorn the walls and elaborate chandeliers

are a sight to behold.

In the past, sea captains and their sponge divers

would sail to this place from (indistinct)

before they went out to the far reaches of the Mediterranean

seeking their sponges.

St. Michael is also the Patron Saint of the sick

and majority of pilgrims today come here

trying to heal their sicknesses by providing votives

as an offering to Saint Michael.

Like many of the icons I've come across on the islands,

this one is set to have appeared here miraculously,

and each time it was removed,

it would only reappear again in the same location,

hence becoming a part of religious folklore.

Outside the monastery, it's much like any other port

with quiet walkways and fishing boats

bobbing about the harbor.

It's the perfect setting to wallow away the day,

reflecting on the world and planning future adventures.

For us, there was already a plan afoot.

The next stop on the schedule was a visit

to one of those tiny uninhabited islands

that I particularly enjoy exploring.

I always have a story to tell with narratives

that have often been lost to the ages.

Researching these places inevitably reveal special moments

in time that define an island's personality.

Sometimes it leaves us wanting to know more.

To the south and only a stone's throw from Symi

is this tiny island of Saskia,

population zero.

It's actually owned by the monastery on Symi.

Now, when you first look at it from Symi,

it looks abandoned, and it is.

But there's also a few stories to tell,

and I want to get further in to discover

what Saskia has to offer.

Absent of hunters, it has wonderful wildlife of birds,

partridges and many raptors that feed on those partridges.

Looking forward to going around the corner

and seeing the settlement, I think I saw a side

of a couple of buildings there as well.

(gentle music)

I love this stuff.

There are few places on the planet where you can explore

remote regions like this with such picturesque scenery,

like the buildings that once stood here,

the facts behind the events that occurred on the island

have eroded away.

Time is similar in power to mother nature

in its ability to erase history

if it's not recorded in books

or handed down via spoken word.

What occurred here requires a certain amount

of creative interpretation to bring to life.

Upon first look, it's not entirely clear that people

once inhabited the island.

Boats pass by daily oblivious to the story

that unfolded here in this small atoll centuries ago.

It's not so much what happened on dry land,

but in the waters that surround.

Thanks, Jenny.

(grunts)

(rocks crunching)

This tiny island of Saskia is surrounded by another

two or three smaller rocky islands.

It's here, I'm told in 411 BC,

that the Athenian fleet retreated

after the surprising defeat to the Spartan navy.

I can just imagine how they felt.

There would have been wounded soldiers,

ships that were almost a wreck.

Wow.

The reason it was such a surprise that the Athenians

were defeated is because of the two,

they were considered the superior naval power,

whereas the Spartans had the better army.

It was one of the many sea battles waged

during the Peloponnesian war, which went from 431 to 404 BC.

Eventually the Spartans would achieve superiority

on both land and sea with the battle of (indistinct)

in 405 BC, seeing the destruction of the Athenian navy.

The topography and location of islands, like Saskia,

lend them to always having a church or fortress

of some type.

In this case, it has both plus pristine untouched beaches

that are frequented by day boats.

One thing you'll notice in Greece

is that even the most remote rock in the middle of the sea

will have a place of worship.

Wow, Yanni, something happens here, what do you think?

(speaking Greek)

Parties.

(speaking Greek)

The only people that visit these far away churches

are passing sailors or fishermen.

Most will stop and pay their respects if not out of faith

then as a way of connecting with their water culture.

After you.

Oh, thank you very much.

Yeah, yeah.

Even though there's no population on this island,

there's still a church.

And every time I come to an island with a church on it,

and it's almost abandoned, I like to go and light a candle.

I'm not really a religious person, but it's part of my DNA,

part of how I grew up.

And I get this little bit of spiritual enlightenment

when I see the light of the candle.

And you doesn't have to be Greek Orthodox,

you can be Buddhist, it could be incense,

It could be anything.

But it's a good moment.

Thanks Yanni.

Now there seems to be no candles in here,

but there's an oil lamp,

which symbolically is almost the equivalent.

And we light the candle in the Greek Orthodox religion

for a number of reasons, but the two that stick with me

is that it symbolizes the purity of the bees wax

and the purity the soul, and the light of the candle

or the oil lamp is the light of Christ.

It's almost poetic,

and they've been doing it for 2,000 years.

(sighs)

(subtle upbeat music)

Lighting a lamp or candle is as much about the process

as the religious symbolism.

For me, it's a moment of reflection

and keeps me in touch with a part of my Greek heritage

that doesn't necessarily get as much focus as other areas.

Look at there, Yanni, have a look.

Must find a way to go up there.

We're not gone up there, mate, there's no way.

Two and a half thousand year old walls,

they can stay there.

Let's go. (laughing)

Ancient walls perched on a hilltop overlooking a place

of worship where ancient practices are still carried out.

Empires have come and gone, but the Greek Orthodox faith

and its foundations have endured.

It's a testament to the power of religion

and the depth it can embed itself into a culture.

So far, it had been a restful day,

spent exploring little nine corners.

And I had every intention of keeping it that way.

I was keen to avoid the crowds and see some things

that your average traveler misses out on.

We reached the southernmost point of the island,

and it was time to start heading back to the main port,

but there was still a couple of stops

to be made along the way.

Regardless and unaware of my plan, Helen pulled rank

instructing the captain to head into the next beach

so she could have a swim.

Let me explain the Hauraki on (indistinct).

There's the crew who are told what to do by the captain,

and he takes instruction from me.

So you would think that places me at the top

of the chain of command,

but then there's Helen who supersedes us all.

As they say, happy wife, happy life.

We dropped anchor at the tiny beach of Nanou,

and wow was it a surprise.

The port of (indistinct) is only a short boat ride away

and it's full of tourists.

Little do they know that a quick trip on a water taxi

will get them to a seemingly remote and secluded beach

complete with a fantastic tavern.

You've gotta come to this beautiful beach, Nanou.

You can only get hit by water taxi, comes every hour,

have a swim, feed the goats,

have a feed at this beautiful tavern

and try their

unreal grape sweet.

But, I've put on so much weight, I think,

I'm not gonna have any, the cameraman's going to have this.

It looks inviting though.

Look at that, aw man.

(speaking Greek)

Hey, that can I have my coffee as well?

Okay.

You can't beat a great coffee, can ya boys?

Hey, give him some too.

He's gotta-

You're greedy, you know that, you little one?

Yeah, that's it, you get, there you go some.

Here you go.

Your mate's are over there looking saying,

why can't we have some as well.

Here we go, you're both here.

Now, what about the other guy,

yeah, you're the other guy first.

Come on, you gotta share, okay?

Yours, now your turn.

You come here, you go up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up.

That's it. (upbeat music)

There was little more than a few goats

and a handful of people on deck chairs

or bathing in the warm sea.

It was an idyllic location, perfect for Helen to have a dip

and me to grab a coffee.

But there was another spot we passed along the east coast

that was my favorite, the Bay of St. George

surrounded by 200-meter high cliffs,

reminded me of shipwreck bay in Zakynthos

with the absence of mass tourism.

Apart from a couple of yachts and some goats

feeding on the beach, we had the place to ourselves.

It never ceases to amaze me just how many pieces of paradise

I come across as I journey through this odyssey.

The Greek islands keep showing me

that just when you think you know a place well,

there's always something new around the corner.

From above, it looks even more like shipwreck bay.

This will definitely be another one of those places

that gets added to the ship's log as a spot

we have to come back to someday.

Hopefully, it stays hidden from the masses.

(upbeat music)

After spending a few days exploring the island,

it was time to head back to the main port for one last time.

It's a very busy harbor,

one of the busiest in the Dodecanese.

Visitors come here from across Greece, as well as Turkey,

which has only a couple of miles to the east.

From small sailing boats to the largest yachts

and even cruise liners, Symi gets hectic.

For me and my guest, when we sail into port,

it's always a fun and exciting experience.

But for the crew, especially the captain and (indistinct),

there's nearly always a little bit of anxiety

and elevated heart rates navigating tight spaces,

dodging passing boats and finding the best spot to park.

It's something they've become masters at.

Between them, they've spent over 60 years on the water.

The captain started his nautical career

in the Helenic navy.

(indistinct) was in a Greek army special forces

when he was young, but ended up traveling the world

on freighters of all sizes.

I'm not sure what's more difficult, navy and cargo ships

or taking care of me.

Symi has some absolutely magnificent beaches

around its perimeter,

but the problem is the roads aren't the best,

so to get to them, you need to go by boat.

And there's a plethora of water taxis and buses here.

And as you can see,

people are waiting to go for their swim today.

Good morning.

How are you?

Out for a swim?

Enjoy.

(speaking Greek)

Smiles all over.

I've been to a number of ports in the Mediterranean,

and for me, Symi has to be the second most picturesque port

in all the Mediterranean

after Bonifacio in Corsica.

But this one for me just might go a little bit above because

close to home, you know?

Right now, I'm picturing the smiles on the faces

of those amongst you that have visited

the beautiful island of Symi before.

If you're anything like me,

then seeing the spectacular patchwork of colors

and the stunning architecture

would bring back fond memories.

It's a place that once you've visited,

you'll never forget it.

Symi was famous for its sponges

in the 18th and 19th century,

but it was also famous for building high speed boats.

And this area here Evangelista,

named after the church that's sitting up there,

is where they built all those boats.

Very, very wealthy town,

probably one of the most wealthy towns and islands

in all of the region as a result of those high quality

sponges and these boats.

It was almost like the Switzerland of the Aegean

because that Turkish dominion was all over the Aegean,

all over Greece.

So the Ottomans basically gave them autonomy

because of their high quality sponges

and these fast boats that they built,

they palmed off to the sultan.

Now days, there's little that remains

of the famous shipyards that once dominated the port.

Instead of sponges and boat-building fueling the economy,

it's tourism that brings the money

and keeps the people employed.

You know what?

(indistinct), when he was driving the boat

he was doing it very well.

He might want to take your job.

Ah, I know that. (laughing)

The main port has shops, bars and restaurants

that can keep Helen entertained for hours.

I, on the other hand, I'm not a shopper.

I prefer to use my time exploring, stretching the legs

and searching for new things to see and do.

And in the area around (indistinct),

there's plenty of just that.

Most people that come to Symi only visit for the day

and they spend most of their time in the port,

but there's so much more to do.

One of the things that I like doing is riding my bike

or walking to (indistinct).

It's a 3K walk from the clock tower, and it's real fun.

It might only be a short stroll away,

but the next bay over from (indistinct),

which is where I'm headed, has a much less touristy feel.

Here you'll find more bars, taverns and hotels,

but not the souvenir stores and crowds.

At night, it's a local hotspot

and seems like a trendier place to be seen.

(speaking Greek)

If it gets too hot for you, you can have a swim

at one of the many beaches all the way along the coast.

The road seems almost out of place in the landscape.

It's clean and clinical

like a neat scar on the rocky hillside.

There's also no delineated footpath,

probably because you rarely see a car on it.

Actually, you're lucky to see many people either

except for an occasional jogger or a walker.

It's a good thing there's not much traffic

because you spend most of your time staring at the scenery

instead of the road ahead.

The only downside is there's no shade along the way,

so a midday stroll on a hot summer's day

would probably be off the cards.

That wasn't too bad.

(sighs)

Awesome walk,

nice finish,

panoramic.

En Borio Beach is the polar opposite

of the main port.

There are no crowds, it's quiet

and the sea beyond is calm and free of any boat traffic.

It's hard to believe that this was once the trading capital

of the island, hence the name in en Borio

which translates to trading center.

There are places of the same designation

on other Greek islands, too, like Santorini.

It's another of those confusing names

they give locations in Greece.

The Knights of Saint John were a Catholic military order

that rose to prominence around the year 1100

after the conquest of Jerusalem during the first crusade

that were dedicated to the care of pilgrims,

traveling to the holy land.

Eventually their influence waned, and in the 16th century,

they made (indistinct) their seat of power

for which they assume the role of defender of the region.

Dimitris, the Knights of St. John abandoned this castle

and there's not much left of it.

They demolished it.

What happened?

When they

learned that the fleet of Suleiman the Magnificent

was approaching, they exploded the castle

and they went to get closed in the castle of Rhodes

to defend altogether against the Ottomans.

And they just abandoned the island?

They abandoned the island and they went to Rhodes, sir.

So when the fleet entered into the harbor,

the Ottoman Fleet,

the citizens welcomed the Turkish like liberators, sir.

And Turkeys, they were always giving privileges

to their errors that were giving up

without any resistance to their arrival.

They were building since ever the fastest sailing boats

in Mediterranean.

The Symiates.

The Symiates, sir.

And because of this, they were serving like messengers

of the Sultan to his fleet.

And they were involved with a maritime post of the Ottoman

empire as well because of this service to the Ottomans,

the Turks didn't tax the harbor of Symi.

And it was a free harbor.

And this did not happen anywhere in the Dodecanese,

only Symi.

No only in Symi.

Only in Symi.

So it was the fast boats and the sponges, I understand?

The main source of income say it was

fishing sponges, you know.

You're what you're saying is the Symiates

got their freedom to manage their own island

by just giving them some sponges and the fast boats?

Yes, but they had free, duty-free harbor.

And imagine Greeks owning the fastest sailing boats

in Mediterranean and a safe harbor with no any control.

Yes.

And that's how you explain those amazing houses.

I mean there are no fishermen building houses

like these ones.

Money and providing a service that enabled others

to attain wealth has long been a way for people

to maintain their independence.

It's not always military might that gives you freedom.

Politics and commerce are powerful things.

So during the 18th and 19th century-

Yes.

I understand trade was a big thing with the Symiates.

What did they trade because they had nothing to grow here?

They were trading everything.

They were transporting goods of everybody else, sir.

Right, so they're trading from,

from different parts. From different places.

Cause had the fast boats to travel around.

Fast boats and armed boats.

Armed boats as well?

Armed boats, sir.

So how many ships captains would they have had

in those times?

Four,

four, 5,000 apiece.

Wow.

The population at the time was about 25,000.

Around 10 times the amount here today.

So to have four or 5,000 ships,

the place would have been extremely wealthy.

The neoclassical mansions,

mostly built in the mid 19th century, are a testament to it.

They're an example of the European influence

that came here as a result of the islands far reaching

trade and prosperity, which in turn saw them absorb

and then express inspirations from their travels.

These broader cultural influences come in many forms,

including the food that they now consider their own.

You see, just like most Greek islands, they have a dish

that they believe to be unique to them.

You find this everywhere.

An island with lots of goats will have a goat dish

that's special to them.

A place where a particular grain grows will use that

for the basis of something that's eaten nowhere else.

Here in Symi, they're known for their fried baby prawns.

Although neighboring on of Kalki also lays claim to it.

I hate to break the news to both of you,

but my Italian friend, Morris Tezenni has been serving me

to same dish at his beautiful restaurant at Bondi beach

for decades.

He claims it's Italian.

There they call it gamberetti.

However, the person I consider the being a judge

on the matter is (indistinct),

and he says it's a Symiate meal.

I'm not about to argue with the guy that feeds me every day.

It's our last evening in Symi, and we couldn't leave

without having a local dish.

(speaking Greek)

(speaking Greek)

Little prawns from Symi.

Okay, what have we got here?

(speaking Greek)

(speaking Greek)

So, we've got some prawns that are peeled,

and I can see some ouzo going in.

But the (speaking Greek) don't do it that way, go ahead.

The Symiate guys don't do it that way.

He does it because sometimes the prawns can smell a bit.

Now these prawns are little guys, right?

You can start (speaking Greek).

These prawns are little guys.

They've been peeled.

They did look like this at one stage.

And so he does, he puts them in a strainer

and throws them in some hot oil.

Is that right? How long (speaking Greek)?

(Speaking Greek)

Yeah, 10, 15 seconds.

It's done, it's that quick, it's so easy.

Oh yeah, that sounds good.

Now the Italian prawns that I've seen, the little guys,

they actually don't peel them, you have them with the heads.

In this case, they're a little bit bigger,

so they cut the heads off

and they actually peel them as well.

Man, that looks awesome.

And all they do is they take them out after 10 seconds,

strain them, a bit of lemon, a bit of salt, that's it.

How easy is that?

So if you go into the markets,

ask for little prawns,

and if you get the small, small, smallest prawns,

then you're don't have to worry about the heads,

you don't have to worry about intestines,

you don't have worry about eggs,

you just eat the whole lot.

In this case, we've actually got the eggs inside there,

which doesn't look too good

when you're looking at the peeled prawn, but who cares?

They, they taste absolutely awesome.

Can you put some on a plate for me please?

Now you don't eat them with a plate, do you?

How do you (speaking Greek)?

(speaking Greek)

He's gonna show me.

(speaking Greek).

Yeah.

(speaking Greek)

(speaking Greek)

Well, if that's the way they used to do it,

I don't do it like that now.

I'm just gonna pick it up with my hands, here mate.

(speaking Greek)

Let's try that, hang loose, go.

(speaking Greek)

(speaking Greek)

Thank you, (indistinct).

Thank you Symi.

Let's keep going.

(speaking Greek)

(speaking Greek)

There's no better way to finish my time on Symi

then by eating something that's considered a local delicacy.

One of the things that leaves the longest lasting

and fondest memories of a place are the meals

enjoyed while there.

So from now on, whenever I eat a prawn

or have some gamberetti at Morris' restaurant,

I'll think of Symi.

(upbeat music)

Heading south, our next destination was supposed to be Rose,

but a small weather window allowed us to travel

to the adjacent islands of Kalki and Alimia,

the latter of the two

has to be my favorite uninhabited island on the planet.

So naturally it was the first stop.

It's just a stone's throw from both Rhodes and Chalki,

so I'm surprised more people don't come across here.

I'm sure if you're inquisitive enough,

you'd be able to find a day boat, water taxi

or even a fishermen willing to bring you over.

It's certainly worth the effort.

The beautiful water and quaint church

create a stunning setting.

There are even the ruins of a fort beckoning to be explored.

There's only one thing better than an uninhabited island,

and that's an uninhabited island

that's been inhabited at some stage.

And Alameda,

four miles west of Rhodes,

is just that.

Behind me is a classic example.

This is one of five carved into rock dock yards

from Hellenistic time.

And there's so much more here.

We're gonna go and check it out.

Today, the peaceful bay is a contrast

to the turmoil of what occurred here during World War II.

This was actually a German submarine base.

And the story of what happened here,

I'll tell you a little later.

But prior to the war,

there was a long history of the island being inhabited.

In actual fact, in Antiquity,

there was a significant settlement on it.

People remained here until the 1960s,

but now it's a ghost town.

All the remains are the crumbling ruins.

While there's plenty to look at,

there's one building in particular that I want to show you,

a former tavern across from the church of (indistinct).

Main street, huh?

This appears to be main street heading to the village.

In front of me I can see the church and a few houses

that go halfway up to the mountain.

It's all dilapidated.

People are long gone.

The island was abandoned for the same reasons

you find elsewhere in Greece.

While it might've been a pretty spot,

life here was hard.

There was a lack of work,

many of the buildings were in disrepair

and the lure of the bigger, more populous islands nearby

drew people away.

Maybe also there were too many bad memories from the wartime

and the people just wanted a fresh start.

To the rear of the church is this little courtyard

which faces a tavern.

Let's go and have a look.

When you first walk into the former tavern,

you're graced with these absolutely magnificent murals.

Up here you can see a German U-boat, a submarine.

Over here is a light cruiser, and a bit further over,

you can see an E-boat, a torpedo boat.

It's obvious that these German soldiers

had very little to do while they waiting

to refuel ships, and there was one really good artist

that painted these murals.

And I'm told there are more murals

further over in the military installation.

Pretty good. (calming music)

You'd think with all the research and reading I do,

I would get the facts right.

But occasionally, amidst all the excitement

of being somewhere new and telling a story,

a few things get twisted about.

So when I said there were German boats

painted by a German soldier,

I meant to say it was an Italian soldier

who painted Italian vessels.

You can hopefully forgive my confusion because the Germans

did occupy the island and the rest of the Dodecanese

from 1943.

But earlier in the war,

it was the Italians that were here.

What made this such an attractive place for a military

establishment was its proximity to other key ports,

but mainly the safe, deep water harbor.

The ancient name of the island (indistinct),

from which its current designation is derived,

actually means with good harbors.

So it's long been known for its ideal conditions

for maritime operations.

The Italians recognized this

and built quite a substantial base here.

Along the shore front,

they constructed some minor buildings.

However, further up the hill in a safer position,

away from the water's edge,

there's a cluster of what would have been stores,

accommodation and office space.

Imagine the stories these walls could tell.

There's actually one building in particular

that gives you an understanding of what went on here

in a very visual manner.

I'm told this is the one.

Finding it is all part of the fun of a stroll

around the island.

Walking into this building that has four or five rooms

with murals right through,

you'll notice an immediate difference to the diverna

which was painted.

Here they're all done in crayon,

some in color and some in black and white.

But the other obvious differences

that are probably less public,

and they're orientated more to memories of home

in black and white, in scenes of Bavaria.

And in this case, there's a mermaid hugging a soldier.

And the inscription of above is a World War II German song,

and it reminds me that these guys

must have been thinking about their sweethearts,

absence of any females on the island.

Standing here, looking at the walls,

you're not simply gazing at a collection of pictures,

you're reading a story, a very powerful one.

This to me is the untold tale

of many a soldier throughout history.

They're sent to far away places,

thousands of kilometers from home and their loved ones.

You can see it now, a young German private,

sitting alone and feeling homesick,

looking out a window and wondering why he's here.

This is a snapshot in time

that we're privileged to be able to see.

If you do find your way to Alimia,

make sure you have a look and I only ask that you leave it

as you found it.

So future generations can maybe learn the somber lessons

that these images impart.

(gentle music)

It's here in this central part

of this military installation where you can see

the beauty and ugliness of war.

Behind me, you can still the camouflage

of this administrative building.

But in April 1944, seven allied commandos attacked the base.

It failed, they were captured.

They were then sent to Thessaloniki

where they were executed.

The locals confessed to assisting the allies,

they were then deported.

Very few people remained here after world war II,

and in the '60s, Alimia was abandoned.

You know, these look like bullet holes.

It obviously was strafed by an allied aircraft.

And you sometimes think when you see this,

that we're lucky to be living in the time and world

that we're living in now.

Throughout the centuries,

Alimia has been abandoned several times.

But as I walked through the streets, amongst the ruins,

looking out towards the pristine beaches,

I get the sense that maybe someday this beautiful village

will again be settled.

It's this dream, the history and beauty of the place,

that makes it my favorite uninhabited island.

Who knows?

Hopefully within my lifetime,

it could become my favorite populated one.

For me, as a construction engineer and amateur historian,

Alimia holds a greater significance

than you'd probably expect.

The reason being, across this tiny land mass,

there's evidence of civilization spanning several eras.

There's the fourth century foundations

of the 14th century castle ruins.

Then you have the Italian base,

built in the early 1940s,

that sits within a 19th century town.

There's a timeline of architecture

that spans Greece's history from antiquity to today.

Now in our quest to bring you everything in Greece

in Our Greek Odyssey,

we have to climb this mountain (sighs)

to see

the ruins at the top.

Now,

it's the highest mountain on the island.

And I don't think this peak has ever been named.

It's hard work, but I love it.

So I'm gonna name it Mount Helen.

The rocky terrain was loose and unforgiving.

The steep slope was challenging enough,

let alone a slippery gravel.

Every few steps I would slide back half a pace.

And I had to pick my way through the stones

zigzagging up the hill.

What should have been a 30-minute hike

took twice the time,

but the reward is well worth the effort.

The views behind are stunning,

and having the ruins looming overhead keeps you motivated

to toil away.

(breathing heavily) Now this is

not the highest mountain we've scaled,

but it's probably one of the most difficult because

there's no trail.

We're only following sheep and goat paths.

I can tell you it's not easy, but we're close.

(breathing heavily)

Here we go.

There's pottery shards

all the way up the mountain

and you don't have to be a historian

to work out that these are from Antiquity Hellenistic time.

And the best evidence is right up there.

When you look at the walls of that fortress, that castle,

you can see the lower walls, those lower two lines.

They're big blocks of stone, there from the ancient castle

which is sort of 400 BC and the blocks above it

are from the medieval castle

from the Knights of St. John from sort of the 14th century.

Just, I love this stuff.

Better leave them there for somebody else, ey?

The Fort is tiny, about 80 square meters.

It provided a lookout for surveying the surrounding waters.

It's one of the numerous similar forts or towers

built by the Knights of St. John

throughout the Mediterranean during the middle ages.

These are the places from which they could monitor

the movements of merchants and Ottoman ships

and keep a watchful eye open for pirates.

As you come around this

massive monolith plate that's been etched out of this peak,

you start to see the gate which is just up there

and it's the only entrance to this castle on the east side.

Don't bother going anywhere else,

you'd be wasting your time.

But I'm gonna check out the backside of this castle

because apparently there's some awesome blocks to look.

Blocks, yeah.

I love blocks, I'm a builder.

You get to the top and there's some relief for the quads

that are feeling like jelly at the moment.

Anyway, let's have a look around here.

Wow.

Check it out.

That's it, enough climbing for me.

Now, that's amazing.

It's amazing how the littlest telltale

can tell a massive story.

You see those two lintels up there

that are straddling the rock.

They seem from a quick estimate

to be about three or four ton.

Now this isn't the pyramids in Egypt next to the Nile river

with free flowing water in a level land

for thousands of people to build it.

We're on top of a mountain.

There is no water here.

It's bloody hot.

And it would have been a very difficult process

with few men build this, not only in the fourth century BC,

but also again in the 14th century AD as a medieval castle.

This is the sign of real human endeavor.

It's pretty impressive.

Anyway, better go into the entrance.

I'm not going around there, that's enough.

(sighs) Quads.

Only the fit and able bodied

are going to make it to this point.

And the final approach to get into the doorway

is the most dangerous part of all.

By no means am I suggesting people do this

without adequate experience or conditioning,

or good insurance for that matter.

Now, it's not easy to get up here, but it's well worth it.

Wow, so this is the medieval section of the castle

and you can see these clay shards,

they're actually pottery from the fourth century

and the the knights use them as packers

to level out the blocks.

They're resourcefulness, awesome.

But this is absolutely magnificent.

I mean, it must get the Guinness book of records

for the smallest fort on earth.

Just two rooms, look at it.

It's like a little gem on top of Mount Helen.

Wow, it's awesome. (upbeat music)

Grand palaces and ancient auditoriums sure are impressive,

but to me,

these relatively modest finds are just as remarkable.

Their simplicity hides the impressive feats of engineering

and human enterprise it took to create them.

Plus there's nothing more rewarding

than doing your own research to learn about the history

and stories that the crumbling walls have to tell.

The next episode sees me traveling 15 minutes west

to Chalki.

It's the smallest inhabited island of the Dodecanese

and just six kilometers from Rhodes.

With only 500 or so people living there,

it's a peaceful setting with a spectacular port

that's like a miniature version of Symi.

Despite it being only 28 square kilometers in size,

Chalki has plenty to keep you entertained,

and I'm gonna do my best to show you as much of it

as possible.

To see more of My Greek Odyssey,

head to our website at myGreekOdyssey.com.

There you'll find plenty to keep you entertained,

including Kyriako's awesome recipes.

(upbeat music)

(music fades)