Peloponnese 2023, part 21 (Stemnitsa, Menalon Trail, Dimitsana)
The Menalon Trail is a hiking path in the region of Arcadia on the Peloponnese, with a total length of 75 km. On this particular day, I started one section of it, called the Lousios Gorge Hiking Path, which is just one of many hiking trails around the villages of Stemnitsa and Dimitsana.
The trail I took connects these two villages, but if you go from Stemnitsa to Dimitsana, as I did, you begin at an altitude of 1,080 m above sea level. You then reach the gorge and walk along it, which involves descending almost to the river (crossing a couple of bridges) and reaching the lowest point at 420 m above sea level, before climbing back up to the elevation where Dimitsana sits, at 945 m above sea level. The trail is approximately 12.5 km long (the asphalt road between these two places is 8.7 km). Additionally, neither the descent nor the ascent is linear, as the trail constantly goes up and down. I found different figures online regarding the elevation gain on this route – some sources stated it was 742 m, while I even found one that claimed the total elevation difference was 1,060 m of descent and 957 m of ascent. These are significant figures, and although the signs say this is a moderately difficult trail, it felt very challenging to me, especially towards the end when I had to climb.
And yet, I enjoyed the whole time (except when I had to stop to catch my breath from exhaustion), while the joyful memory of the experience and achievement lasts to this day. So, it was absolutely worth every drop of sweat.
As a reminder, here’s a map showing the places I visited in the Peloponnese and southern mainland Greece in September 2023, with the area I hiked on that day roughly marked on it. I didn’t manage to create a proper hiking map, but in the end, that’s not really important. If someone wants to follow the same trail, they don’t need my map; suffice to follow the trail markings, which are very well done.
It all started off quite smoothly and easily because, in the beginning, I was mostly descending, so I had to pay close attention to where I was stepping. However, there were occasional flat sections, which made it easier for me to stop and take photos of the landscapes I was passing through.
At one point, I passed by the Kamari Fountain, but on this occasion, there was no water flowing from it. After all, it was still the beginning of my hike and I had a full, large water bottle in my backpack, so it was quite ok with me.
However, the presence of human activity here is not only reflected in the established trail, the markings and the fountain, but you can also often see terraced sections, which I assume are meant to provide soil stability and prevent landslides.
In one section, the trail goes straight, and right down the slope, there are no tall trees, which allows for a beautiful view of the Arcadian mountains.
Since it was still relatively early and the sun was low, with the sky partially covered by clouds, the photos I took were often exceptionally beautiful.
Whenever I came across a section of the trail that went downhill, especially where there were larger rocks or unstable ones, I would stop briefly to assess the situation and then continue, carefully watching where I stepped. I was alone and throughout the day, I didn’t encounter anyone going in the same direction as me (a bit later, I did come across a couple going in the opposite direction). What I mean to say is that I had to be particularly cautious and focused.
But, all of this was made easier by the regularly placed trail markings, which gave me an added sense of security.
After a while, the trail emerges onto an asphalt road that leads to the Holy Church of the Transfiguration of the Saviour.
The church was closed and the only thing I could do was peek through the glassed-in narthex. However, from the church, stairs lead down to a nearby lookout, which is a fantastic spot.
From here, there is an absolutely stunning view in all directions. I first looked around and took photos of the areas to the south of the lookout, where I knew I wouldn't be going, but which also include parts of the Lousios River gorge.
Then, I took a panoramic shot of the entire landscape.
My plan was to go to the village of Dimitsana by passing through the northern sections of the Lousios River gorge, where I would reach two monasteries on foot. I could already see some of this from the lookout. I couldn't believe that I came up with this idea!!! I had a hard time determining my feelings – whether to be proud of myself or to start crying.
My planned destinations are visible in the previous panoramic photo, but here is another picture where I marked the locations I had intended to reach on this occasion.
The plan was to head first to the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner, then descend to the first bridge and cross the river, climb up to the second monastery, descend to the second bridge and cross the river again, and finally, climb up to Dimitsana. From here, I could see the first monastery, Dimitsana, as well as the river at the bottom of the gorge.
From here, I continued along the trail, but now I was already in the gorge area. Although I was in the middle of nature, it was clear that people had been living and functioning here for a very long time, and quite regularly as well.
At times, the trail passed through sections where there was an absolutely magical view of the gorge.
At one point, I also caught sight of a part of the monastery I was heading towards. It was one of its churches and from this angle it appeared to be floating in the air.
So, the monastery in question is the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner, which is often marked by its Latinised Greek name – Monastery of Prodromu. It was founded in the 16th century and is still active today.
The location of the monastery is incredibly impressive, not only because of the beauty of the gorge and the surrounding landscapes, but also due to the physical site on which the monastery is built. This becomes clear when you approach it via the trail – the monastic buildings are literally clinging to the cliff and their construction seems to defy gravity. I was so amazed by it that I took a whole series of photos showing the same part of the monastery, each highlighting different details.
In order to enter the monastery, you have to continue along the trail beneath the monastery buildings. When I turned around to see where I had come from, I was once again left breathless by the beauty of – everything.
By the way, the monastery is not open for visits between 1:00 PM and 5:00 PM, but in my case, there was no worry because I arrived in the morning. By chance, I reached the gate at a time when a couple of monks were in the courtyard, preparing to leave. As is my custom, I crossed myself before entering and then one of the monks asked me where I was from. It was clear to him that I was of the Orthodox faith, simply from the way I crossed myself.
I left my backpack and trekking poles on one of the benches in the courtyard and then I took one of the aprons from the hooks across from me, since I was wearing pants.
That’s how I entered the church, which is also "built" into the rock. However, at the entrance and in a few other places, there were notices stating that photography was not allowed, so I don’t have any pictures from inside the church. I regret that, as it would have been nice to revisit the beauty of the interior through photos, but I respect the precondition for the visit set by the hosts.
Then I headed towards a newer church, the Church of St. Athanasius. It was closed, but I circled around it for a short while.
Now I was ready to continue my hike, but first, I took one last look at the monastery buildings and the southern parts of the gorge. Then, I turned to gaze at the northern sections of the gorge, where I was now planning to go.
On my way, I was greeted by western or Eurasian jackdaws (Coloeus monedula) landing in large numbers on the vertical cliffs.
From here, I had about 1,700 m to the second monastery located in the gorge. But soon, I had to stop. I wondered if I had to pay some kind of toll. No, it wasn't that. I just needed to be a little patient. This lovely donkey soon calmly let me pass by stepping onto another path, going about its own business.
The trail continued through the forest, with occasional spots and open areas where I could take in the surrounding views of the gorge. You could also see details related to human intervention. In any case, to reiterate, there are clear trail markings all along the path, so one always knows they're on the right track.
From the previous photos, you can see that the trail was mostly descending, although there were occasional sections where it went uphill again. However, at one point, I reached a bridge that crosses the Lousios River and it is called the Philosophou Bridge.
From the bridge, you get a beautiful view of the river, which is famous in Greek mythology as the place where the Nymphs bathed Zeus when he was a baby.
From here, the trail mostly started to go uphill, so I had to take occasional short breaks to catch my breath. This was made easier by the details I noticed along the way or the beauty of the landscapes I was passing through, which made me want to capture them. For example, I saw a beautiful Greek cyclamen (Cyclamen graecum) and some interesting geological formations.
But it was also wonderful to enjoy the beauty of the landscapes I had already passed through. In the distance, I could even see the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner that I had visited earlier.
In one section, the trail turned into a staircase-like path that ascended along hairpin turns and it was much steeper, so I had to stop more frequently to catch my breath.
There is a section of the trail here that branches off and leads to the Old Panagia Filosofou Monastery, founded in 963. This monastery is also "clinging" to the cliffs. It is known as the "Secret School" because, during the Ottoman occupation, despite the ban, a school was established here where Greek language and Orthodox Christianity were taught.
However, although, according to a sign, I was only about 100 m away from the monastery, I didn't go there. Why? Because there was another sign, written in Greek, English, German and French – an unusual case along the trail – warning that it was dangerous and that visitors should not go there. I assume the danger was related to the risk of falling rocks, either from below or above.
I do enjoy adventure, after all, I had been walking the Menalon Trail all day, but I also consider myself reasonable. If someone takes the time to write a warning in four languages, I respect that. So, I continued on the main trail and after a few hundred metres, I reached the New Panagia Filosofou Monastery. I entered the courtyard through the back gate.
So, the monastery was founded in 963, but the newer part of the monastery was built in 1691.
Let me first clarify the name of the monastery. It is most commonly referred to by its Latinised Greek name – Panagia Filosofou, which roughly translates to “Theotokos, the Lover of Wisdom.” As for the church, it is dedicated to the Assumption of the Theotokos.
The church was open and I didn't see any signs indicating that photography was not allowed, so I took some photos of the interior. The church is beautifully frescoed, while at the end of my visit, I also lit a few candles.
From the courtyard, I also took photos of the landscapes I was about to continue through on my way to Dimitsana. According to a sign posted near the monastery, I had covered 6.2 km from Stemnitsa and I still had 6.4 km to go to Dimitsana, mostly uphill.
By the way, the New Panagia Filosofou Monastery is accessible via an asphalt road, so it can also be reached by car. The monastery is open every day from sunrise to sunset.
Before leaving the monastery, I visited a small shop there, where the monk gave me a piece of paper with information about the monastery in English. I also bought a beeswax balm, which I can report is an excellent product.
Afterwards, I exited through the main entrance/exit and then walked along the asphalt road for about 1.6 km, until I came across a trail marker indicating that I should now return to the hiking path. Along the way, I took photos of the surrounding landscapes and from one point I was able to see both the New Panagia Filosofou Monastery and the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner in the distance.
Since this section of the asphalt road was a bit longer, I had a good view of the Lousios River Gorge quite often. The next photo beautifully shows the location of the Monastery of St. John the Forerunner, the gorge I descended almost all the way to the river, and then climbed up to the New Panagia Filosofou Monastery. Good for me!!!
But the ascent was far from over. I still had to climb all the way up to Dimitsana.
From one point, I could see Dimitsana in the distance and it still seemed very far away, not to mention perched at a high elevation.
But to get there, I first had to not only switch to the old mule path, which now serves as the hiking trail, but also begin by descending. It was important to follow the trail markers carefully.
The trail seemed quite gentle and it often passed by olive groves.
The landscapes continued to be absolutely stunning and at one point, in the distance and on the top of an elevation, I could see my destination – Dimitsana.
At one point, much lower than my current position, I could see a part of the river. I knew that I still had to descend in order to reach the river and a bridge, which meant that afterwards, I would have to climb even more. It was one of those situations that perfectly fit a Serbian saying: "The granny gave a penny to join the dance, she would gladly give two to leave, but she can't."
The trail, which alternated between going downhill and uphill, eventually led back to an asphalt road. There, I also found a marker on the ground. Just around the bend, there is the Monoporis Bridge.
Of course, I took some photos from the bridge – first looking downstream along the Lousios River and then from the other side, towards Dimitsana, which was 3.8 km away along the hiking trail.
Right after the bridge, the hiking trail leaves the asphalt road and begins to ascend. From this point on, there were no more significant flat sections, while the elevation gain was about 420 m.
After a few hundred metres, you reach another bridge – the Tzani Bridge.
From here, I had to take frequent breaks because I was already quite exhausted. But little by little, I kept going and eventually reached a section where the trail ran alongside a stream, with water flowing down the slopes on the right side of the path.
At several spots, I saw fig trees and in one of them, I found a ripe fruit. I couldn't resist and the fig – almost like something from a Zen story – was perfectly sweet.
I also spotted and photographed a beautiful butterfly. It was a speckled wood (Pararge aegeria).
From one point, I had another wonderful view of the section of the gorge I had passed through. Not only was everything still beautiful and breathtaking, but I also felt a strong sense of pride in myself. And yet, ahead of me, there were still 2.4 km to Dimitsana.
At one point, I came across some stairs that were a part of the trail, leading up to the Open-Air Water Power Museum.
Namely, because of the abundant water sources and streams, Dimitsana is known for its mills, but they weren't just watermills used for grinding grain. In fact, by the mid-18th century, due to the needs of the uprising, gunpowder production began here, powered by water. The village was also famous for its large library, where books were brought from the monasteries. However, when the Greek War of Independence (1821–1829) broke out, the library and the gunpowder mills came together in an unusual way. The insurgents used paper from the books in the mills (there were 14 mills), as they needed gunpowder for their fight, while production ran day and night. Unfortunately, this led to the destruction of many books, but at least the Greek insurgents brought freedom to their people.
In my case, those stairs got the best of me and even though I was only about 50 m from the museum, the thought of visiting it never crossed my mind. I came to a kind of "crossroad" with two paths – one leading to the museum, the other toward Dimitsana. Not for a second did I hesitate.
The trail passed alongside a canal, where water was rushing down, allowing me to clearly imagine the power of the water. It was more than enough for this moment.
As I got closer to Dimitsana, the trail occasionally led me past spots from where I could enjoy wonderful views of the surrounding landscape.
With undiminished enthusiasm, as well as with an intense feeling of accomplishment that competed with a strong sense of exhaustion and fatigue, I gazed toward the Lousios River gorge through which I had just passed.
The trail had now widened and was more like a village road. Soon, I could see Dimitsana not too far away.
Although there weren't many more ascents during the final stretch of the hike, I was completely drained. My pedometer app showed that I had walked over 18 km, but I suspect that the reason for this is that I had taken shorter steps than usual, causing the app to miscalculate. On the other hand, it really felt like I had walked at least 25 km.
Even though I took a little walk around the centre of Dimitsana, which is exceptionally charming and classified as a "traditional settlement," contrary to my usual habit and probably due to extreme fatigue, I didn’t feel the need to take any photos. It was only a little later, when I sat down in a restaurant and ordered what I wanted, that the urge to take pictures returned.
When I recovered a bit, I found a taxi in Dimitsana that took me back to Stemnitsa. After I showered and changed, I went to the centre (about a hundred metres from my room), where I sat in a restaurant again and ordered a pie. On this day, I wasn't worried about calories at all.