above skiathos town

The following day took us away from the coast and up into the hills above Skiathos Town.

Again, we caught the bus. Leaving the shoreline behind, the road climbed steadily through pine trees, the air cooling as we gained height. It felt like a quiet transition, moving away from the openness of the sea towards something more enclosed and reflective.

Set on the hillside around four kilometres from town, the Monastery of the Annunciation, known locally as Evangelistria Monastery, appears gradually. Stone buildings emerge from the trees, simple in form and unassuming, blending naturally into their surroundings.

Monastery of the Annunciation, known locally as Evangelistria Monastery

The monastery is arranged around a central courtyard, its pale stone softened by age, potted plants and patches of shade. There’s a sense of order here, but not rigidity. Everything feels settled, as though it has found its place over time rather than been carefully arranged.

We began by wandering through the small museum, moving slowly from room to room. Displays of religious objects, manuscripts and everyday items offered quiet glimpses into the monastery’s past. Nothing felt overly curated or theatrical, just fragments of history left to speak for themselves.

Inside the church

Inside the church, the atmosphere changed again. Light filtered through small windows high in the stone walls, falling gently across icons, candles and worn surfaces shaped by centuries of use. The space felt cool and contained, inviting stillness without asking for it. I sat for quite a while — long enough, in fact, for the others to send someone to come and look for me.

Afterwards, we walked up to the café nearby. A light lunch and coffee replaced sightseeing for a while as we sat quietly in the courtyard, watching others come and go. There was less conversation today, just the easy comfort of sitting together without needing to fill the space. Once again, it became one of those stops that stretches longer than planned, not because there was more to do, but because there was no reason to rush.

There was no pressure to leave, except for the gentle reality that the bus back was due at four.

When we eventually walked back down, the courtyard felt brighter, the island already beginning to reassert itself beyond the trees. It wasn’t a dramatic stop or a defining moment of the trip, but it offered something valuable all the same, a short time to slow down and reflect.

If you’d like to follow future journeys, reflections, and moments noticed along the way, you can join the mailing list here.