Where the devil says kalinichta

In Crete it is easier to come across an image of Saint George than an undented car. He is on the walls of village churches, along old routes, in places far from towns and their fortifications. He does not always fight a dragon; more often he simply is—alert, present, ready to intervene. This essay is not about a saint from a legend, but about a figure of protection in a world that, for centuries, lived in the shadow of very real threats: pirates, wars, abductions, and sudden death.

The Church of Saint George in Komitades is a 14th-century sanctuary in the Sfakia region of Crete, known for its well-preserved frescoes painted by Ioannis Pagomenos and for a surviving foundation inscription dated to 1313–1314. Located far from main roads, in a stark mountain landscape, it stands as a valuable testimony to local piety, communal patronage, and the iconographic programme of the Venetian period.

An exceptional church in an exceptional place.

On how Paradise was painted in Crete — and why it still matters.

The beauty of this landscape easily drowns out the fact that it was a witness to events closer to Greek tragedy than to a holiday story.

In Chromonastiri even silence has its own weight. This is not a village trying to win the attention of visitors — it is a place that lives by its own rhythm, as if time flows differently here.

In Cretan churches, the image of the Pantokrator does not tell a story – it establishes a relationship in which the human being ceases to be the centre, and God reclaims His place above the world.

How prayer, salt, and icons shaped everyday life on Crete from the Venetian era to the present.