"Each step forward has a sacred meaning of its own"   Sri Chinmoy

Moni Kamiri Run - Haraki - Rhodes, Greece - September 2025

A couple of days after my Profitis Ilias run and with my achilles feeling a little sore, I opted for a flatter session on a route I had found online leading deep into the interior of Rhodes towards an abandoned (but apparently, devotedly maintained) monastery on a hilltop near Masari. It had rained heavily in the previous 36 hours and I had a feeling I might have to wade the ford on the way out of Haraki (as I had done the day before on a short morning run) but when I got there it was easy enough to avoid the standing water. People had helpfully left some pallets on the road as stepping stones.

My route began on a quiet road out of Haraki towards Masari and the Rhodes-Lindos highway. I began in darkness but soon the sky had lightened and I was into Masari pretty soon, without having seen more than 1 or 2 cars. My route was allegedly road, but soon I realised that the roads of Rhodes are not what we would call roads back home. Plenty of gravel, some very driveable but some the domain of 4WD vehicles only. Heading steadily north, I was soon leaving the coastal plain and climbing towards the low hills and twisty valleys I was here to explore. The river valleys were still dry, despite the rain, but you could see where the powerful winter and spring rains had done their work, washing away the metalled road and leaving only a bed of gravel for the drivers to negotiate. There was no wading required here still, which was good news for my feet. In the distance I could see a few prominent hills and I was wondering which one would have the monastery on it - as the map showed it on a hilltop. With GPS on my phone, I just followed the track and let it take me further into the landscape.

After a good hour of running I was winding my way up a circuitous mountain road, with bright colours starting to shine in the light of a rising Aegean sun. The pine forest, freshly rain-soaked, was pungent and the air was incredible - so fresh it felt nourishing and engergising. At last around a corner I came to the end of the road, the arch of the Kamiri Monastery. The place was deserted, but clearly well looked-after. I had time to stop there for a few minutes and meditate in the silence. The atmosphere was amazing - hard to tell if that came from the monastery and its centuries of devotion, or just the location in the silent and deserted hills, or perhaps both?

Looking back the way I had come, it was pretty much south-east, directly into the sun rising out of the sea.

 I felt a few drops of rain as I began the return journey, but before I could even get my jacket on it had turned into a heavy downpour. This was only a siight hassle, as I had decent gear with me and it wasn't particularly cold or windy. The payoff though was the vivid rainbow that appeared to the north west. Single at first, partial, then fully across the sky and then finally a double-rainbow. It stayed with me all the way back to the highway on the same route I had taken on the way north, through the wide but river-less valley and on the gravel-roads flanked by olive trees and lemon groves.

This was an awesome route, easily run without trail shoes (it is all road or road-like) with an enchanting spot as the turnaround and all the climing on the way out.

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