Lessons Learned From Backpacking Rural Greece
Or the magic unfolding from mountain tops, strangers, and the universe
In a time of uncertain politics and a crescendo of individual differences, a young man sets off on foot across mountain ranges and primeval forests.
In the midst of the 2020 COVID-19 global pandemic, which shook and almost fragmentized his preconceived schemas about the world, our hero realized that the Greece he knew wasn’t necessarily the Greece that was.
There was an invisible veil lying between his mind and reality.
Intrigued and curious, he decided to head out and experience the world in order to try to uncover the illusion. What begins as a search for authenticity and objectivity, during a period of political and social turmoil, ultimately becomes a story of transformation and identity, as our hero begins to cultivate a profound relationship with himself, other people, and the whole universe.
The hero in this story is me.
There’s no doubt that the COVID-19 pandemic shed light on and enlarged
everything corrupt and unstable about my home country. Not only that, but the people around me also got heavily influenced by the continuous isolation and restrictions, which brought unconscious action patterns to the surface. The media did everything they could to turn people’s gaze at the downsides and at the things that separated them. The toxicity in the human environment was increasing in an exponential manner.
I had hope inside me, but I had also had enough of lies and unconsciousness.
I wanted to experience the world by myself, and thus, once the restrictions allowed it, I embarked on my backpacking journey. I tried to eliminate expectations and surrender my being to the power of what lay ahead. Needless to say, my initial motivation, which was to solely explore the external world, changed somewhere along the line.
My discoveries were a result of a reciprocal relationship between myself and the world that expanded beyond the realms of the social, economical, and political landscape. And here I am, writing to you about what I’ve learned while trying to maintain a humble and open-minded perspective.
So, grab a seat, and enjoy the ride.
Archetypes of Authenticity
Ever since I was a little child, I’ve been highly curious about the kind of individuals that lived in abandoned, small, and solitary communities. Even now, I’m still amazed by the courage, braveness, and authenticity that’s reflected in their soul-penetrating gaze.
Encountering them reinforced and increased my exhilaration.
The residents living in Pindos National Park, for the most part, had nothing
to do with their media counterparts. National channels have this tendency to exhibit peculiar and irregular characters, be it offensive or unconscious, which are anything but representative of the people living in these sheltered communities. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, but you can probably get my point by now.
I can recall numerous times when trail magic brought something I needed when I least expected it, like simple acts of generosity and kindness.
One day, I remember walking in a cobblestone alley, extremely tired and dehydrated from the previous miles. I hadn’t evaluated my supplies correctly, that’s why I was lead to a dead-end. It was a hot, cloudless day. The sun was at its zenith, while I desperately tried to find shade under a roof for hours.
There were wooden houses everywhere, which made me wonder if anybody actually lived there. Even if they did, nobody would be strolling the streets
at this time, as the warmth was unforgiving, I whispered to myself.
Suddenly, a dark-clothed figure, in his late 50s, appeared walking beside me in the trail. He was a lean, tall, and fit guy, despite his age. His slightly wrinkled face and his deep grey beard were the only proof the devil could use to identify this man as old. He smiled at me, as if he knew what I needed, and quickly nodded in affirmation. I followed him, using every bit of trust I could generate.
You know, Greeks are characterized by their unnecessary chatter, but this man didn’t even use words to communicate with me. He just used his body language. He led me to a small tavern named ‘Breath’, where I sat and got served a Greek salad, bread, water, and tsipouro.
It was a true blessing, and one I didn’t even have to repay in cash. Before I left, the man desired to provide the propositional lesson I was looking for. He said that what he did is called tradition, and apart from being grateful for this act of generosity, I should seek to continue it and give a compassionate hand to the next individual. I never found out his name. I didn’t need to.
What I needed was a reminder of the archetypes of authenticity that still existed, untouched and unscathed by the passage of time and sociopolitical turmoil, away from media coverage and interests. And I got exactly that.
Nature’s Amorality
Before participating in this backpacking journey, I held the romantic notion that nature is characterized by serenity, benevolence, and harmony. I always interacted with and observed the works of Goethe, Vincent Van Gogh, and William Blake in complete admiration.
How could nature be so kind, giving, fruitful and generous to us?
Oh, how the tables have turned!
An intense experience in Olympus National Park taught me that nature doesn’t really care about beauty and benevolence. As I recall, I was climbing a steep, rocky, and slippery ridge at 2,600m altitude. The weather was drizzly, which made the rocks and my hiking gear all wet. I was rapidly losing body fluids due to the high altitude, fatigue, and moisture. The fog numbed my orientation skills, and so the climb was getting extremely difficult.
The ridges close to Mytikas, the summit of mountain Olympus, are famous for hosting unsettled and rapid weather conditions. That day, they did their fame justice.
I was already frustrated from the aforementioned conditions when I saw thunder and lightning a few miles away. My crew for the day had decided to return to camp a long time I go, but I was stubborn. I had faith that nature or God would protect me. My cause was noble, after all. Then, I had a moment of insight.
I realized that I was facing an amoral beast. I was dealing with chaos and uncertainty. I had utilized everything that lied inside my power range. I could easily die out there, and everything would continue the same way. No heroic journey, no Gandalf or Dumbledore coming to save me from my arrogance, no mythological comic-relief closure.
I decided to return to camp, and wait a few days to summit Olympus.
This experience changed my perspective and attitude towards nature. I still
consider it to be beautiful. However, it certainly doesn’t have any intention
of protecting and transforming us. Nature is amoral, and our subjective experience is what remodels it.
Nature is simultaneously chaotic and harmonious.
Nature demands respect and adaption if we want to survive.
Nature produces awe, which contains admiration and terror likewise.
The Art Of Solitude
Like so many other teenagers before me, I got heavily influenced by the true story of Christopher McCandless, as represented in Sean Penn’s movie: Into The Wild. I got amazed by the director’s richly, spaciously rendered account of landscape and moodscape, where long, wordless scenes flow into each other, with the hero embracing his solitude.
After watching the movie, I got familiar with the differentiation between solitude and loneliness. The mantra of being alone without being lonely pierced through my brain and made me extremely eager to experience it myself.
As my backpacking voyage was coming to a close, I ended up in the last station for the summer, Rodopi National Park. There, I got to meet with a lot of familiar faces and family, which refreshed my fatigued body and mind. But there was still work to be done.
On a Saturday morning, I woke up, picked up my gear and headlamp, and went into the woods for the last day. The sun was slowly making its glory noticeable, highlighting the landscape before me with gold and red colors. The weather conditions were perfect for the journey ahead.
I was planning to spend more than 12 hours hiking and running, alone but not lonely. Before that day, I was a bit afraid to be alone in the woods for so many hours, so I always planned ahead to meet someone, be it a stranger or a familiar face.
How would time pass?
What could I possibly think about for 12 or more hours?
What If something goes wrong?
The answer came when I embodied the art of solitude. To be sincere, I didn’t have to think, ruminate, or over-analyze all the time. For almost 80% of the experience, I was just observing, being present, and surrendering to the flow. The journey wasn’t all butterflies and roses, as there were moments when I met my personal shadow. This part of my psyche made me struggle and question myself, as it brought to the surface all my fears and insecurities.
But it couldn’t have been otherwise.
All the ups and downs made the last day perfect for me, and I believe the art
of solitude, if cultivated, can be beneficial for both it's chaotic and harmonious
potential.
Takeaways
This journey was extremely transformational for me. I struggled to find the right words in order to represent it sufficiently (there goes my OCD).
There’s always room for writing something else, sharing a few sentences with one more remarkable encounter or lesson, or exhibiting an extra vivid emotional silhouette. I guess I have to settle with these for one.
My first intention was to share my journey, but I also aspired to make you wonder, question your preconceived schemas and motivate you to go out there and experience the magic by yourself. More often than not, your world gets changed by the power of participatory knowing, and you realize you have been living inside a pre-made bubble.
Believe me, my world transformed too, because I now consider that:
- There’s authenticity lying beyond human media representation
- Nature can transform and produce awe but has no intention
- Solitary journeys can have a tremendous impact on your development
- Propositional knowing is important, but we need to go out there and see
by ourselves. We need to actively participate in reality.
So, get that damn backpack and go!
