A Hidden Paradise in the Mountains of Epirus

It was a difficult summer. A sudden surge of work threw my holiday plans completely off schedule, apart from a few day trips to the sea and even those were few and far between. Yet, despite the exhaustion, the summer left me with a wonderful sense of fulfilment. Everything I worked on was new to me and highly creative: developing new sandwich and salad recipes for a chain of shops in Thessaloniki, training their staff and, I would say, learning about a new field myself along the way.

Immediately afterwards, I took charge of the kitchen at a place very dear to my heart for a month, until the staff returned from their holidays. That’s summer for you, it slipped away in the blink of an eye.

So, when I was invited to visit an estate with guesthouses in Epirus, I naturally accepted. By then, the need for rest and seclusion had become overwhelming. And this is where one of the most beautiful and powerful experiences of my life begins…

The information I had was rather vague. I had heard something about cabins at a guesthouse, goats in their pens, and Katerina, who made an authentic Epirot pie so delicious you would lick your fingers. Then there was her sister, Anna, who made an unforgettable kourkoutopita. Okay then, off we went!

If you are wondering how one gets to this estate, it is quite simple. Once you have travelled far enough away from civilisation, you turn off the main road and continue deep into the mountains for quite some time, following the ridge that separates Greece from Albania. Just as you begin to suspect that you may have been kidnapped, you find yourself on the final stretch leading to the estate…

We arrived and passed through the gates… There, on the mountainside, surrounded by the wild beauty of the landscape, stood a collection of stone-built structures. The owner’s house dominated the centre of the estate, tall and imposing, like a beacon watching over everything around it.

Guesthouses, winding paths, arches, covered passageways and little bridges connecting the buildings, all made of stone, created an almost medieval atmosphere, giving you the unmistakable feeling that you had stepped inside a castle.

How all of this came to exist at the edge of the world is a story that reads like a fairy tale, a film, or perhaps one of those novels we read on a sunlounger in summer, dreaming of things we believe we will never experience ourselves. And so, I decided to tell you that story…

Christoforos Kostaras, known as Foris to his family and friends, was the eighth of nine children, born in Dolo, a poor and remote village in Epirus. He began struggling to make his way in life from a very young age, when he was just thirteen. As he grew older, he became a successful businessman, yet deep in his heart he held on to a secret dream: to return and live in his village.

And that is exactly what he did. At around the age of forty, he sold everything and went back home. There, he built the much-talked-about straw hut I had heard so much about. The hut still stands in a prominent spot on the estate today and was his home during those early days.

But that was only the beginning. After all, no one can rely on a house made of straw. There is always the Big Bad Wolf, who knows how to huff and puff…

Arriving at one of the guesthouses, the one where I would be staying…

Inside the guesthouse, the kitchen and dining area…

Interior details and one of the bedrooms, mine…

He began building the guesthouses, stone by stone. Each one extends over three levels: a reception area, dining room and kitchen on the ground floor, a sitting room on the first floor, and bedrooms on the second.

In the meantime, he met Marianna. A passionate love blossomed between them and led to a happy marriage. Marianna shared Foris’s vision, and together they continued creating their own paradise…

At the entrance to the dairy, an impressive large mirror catches the eye, with twinkling lights all around and exquisite decorative details…

No fairy tale this beautiful would be complete without vineyards. And so, a winery was established, where today a variety of excellent wines are produced, along with, of course, tsipouro which I thoroughly enjoyed throughout my stay!

As for the cellar, words fail me. Medieval stone passageways with low arches that make you stoop as you pass beneath them, heavy wooden doors with just the right amount of creaking, and metal bars and latches that close with a deep, muffled echo transport you to another era and fill your imagination with mystery…

In addition to everything produced at the dairy and winery, the estate also offers a wide range of other products: vegetables, fruit, pulses, trahanas, honey, sauces, jams, and an extensive selection of herbs and aromatic plants. I even caught sight of a machine they use to dry hot peppers…

As for everything we ate and drank, the flavours and aromas were unforgettable. And so was the fiery heat of those fearsome little peppers. I’m still crying…

The white cheese that resembles htipiti or tirokafteri is silira, and it is absolutely delicious! As for the bread, I will say only this: the position of the jug beside it is no coincidence. It is there to give you an idea of just how enormous that loaf was…!!!

For many years, the estate was open to the public, with an outdoor bar that became a popular gathering place for young people from the surrounding area. Visitors could also enjoy lavish meals prepared with the estate’s own produce, including spit-roasted meats, cooked dishes and pies baked in the wood-fired ovens.

Today, the guesthouses welcome prominent figures from the worlds of politics and business, by prior arrangement with the owner, as well as other well-known guests who come here to escape the public eye, enjoy the peace and quiet, breathe in the fresh mountain air, savour excellent food and beautiful surroundings, and recharge their batteries…

The estate also has a conference room which, despite its traditional design that perfectly reflects the character of the place, is equipped with all the latest audiovisual technology. It hosts closed-door meetings attended by groups of scientists and others.

Right next door is a mosaic workshop because, as if all that work were not enough, the owner had to have a hobby too! He creates beautiful mosaics that decorate various parts of the buildings, as well as pieces of furniture found throughout the estate…

Above the estate, the village spreads across the mountainside. Today, it is almost deserted, its former residents scattered across every continent. Only ten people now live there, among them one of Foris’s brothers and two of his sisters, Katerina and Anna, whose pies completely won us over.

Yet there is no sense of neglect or decay. As you walk along its empty cobbled lanes, it is difficult to believe that the village is virtually uninhabited. You have the strange feeling that some mysterious force has cast all its residents into a deep sleep. That behind the closed shutters and firmly bolted doors, they are lying in their beds, waiting to awaken.

Perhaps somewhere among them lies a legendary marble king, waiting for the magic spell that will bring him back to life, so that he may rise, draw his sword and what else? Set a magnificent celebration in motion. People will pour from their courtyards into the village square, the sound of Epirot clarinets will echo through the mountains, and handkerchiefs will wave in the air as everyone joins in a proud tsamiko dance…

In the old church, with its arched stonework, low doorways and small windows, the heavy bell dominates the space, motionless and cold. It too waits patiently for the moment when it will ring once more. It waits for the day when its joyful sound will echo through the surrounding mountains, when the cantors will solemnly chant “Christ is Risen” and continue until everything has come back to life and the churchyard is filled with those who have returned from distant lands.

At the school, the heavy wooden door remains closed and the swings stand perfectly still. And yet, the laughter and running footsteps of children seem to echo everywhere, filling the space.

I can feel my imagination running wild as I continue wandering through the deserted village, my camera hanging around my neck, taking photographs and recording videos with great excitement…

I am now standing at the highest point of the village, photographing the flag as it waves proudly before me. The village stretches out below my feet, while opposite stands the mountain ridge that separates us from Albania.

The wind grows stronger, tousling my hair, and I hear the rustle of dry leaves beginning to swirl through the narrow lanes. I cannot tell whether what I sense around me is merely the wind or wandering spirits.

One thing is certain: a storm is approaching. As the sky fills with dark clouds and the first raindrops fall on my face, I run to retrieve the bag I left behind in the village square, on a small table outside the deserted café, before hurrying back to the estate…

Luckily for me, it rained heavily, so that evening we could not dine in the outdoor area beneath the great trees, where we usually enjoyed our meals and glasses of tsipouro. Instead, our host laid the table inside the straw hut, the very place I had been longing to enter and spend some time in.

Beneath that dome of straw, we shared our final glass of wine, and our conversation carried us into the early hours of the morning. We would be leaving the next day…

I must admit that, even several days after my return, I still cannot readjust to life in my beloved Thessaloniki. I remain caught in another dimension, one that exists alongside our own, a world of stillness and serenity.

Because in a place like that, you simply cannot carry anxiety, misery, spite or pettiness with you. You can bring only love and even that must be carried in a crate marked FRAGILE, like something delicate and precious…

As for the pies we made, you can find the recipe for the Authentic Epirot cheese pie, complete with a video demonstrating the technique, as well as the recipe for the unforgettable Epirot kourkoutopita.

With love!

Nanà…✍️