For roughly a thousand years, the people of Aegina chose to live not by the sea but hidden inland, away from the pirates who raided Aegean coastlines without mercy. Palaiochora, sitting on a rocky hillside in the centre of the island, was their answer — a labyrinthine settlement of churches, houses, and narrow paths that could vanish from the sight of anyone sailing past. At its height the town held several thousand residents and over thirty functioning churches.
The site was abandoned almost overnight in 1826, when Ioannis Kapodistrias, the first governor of modern Greece, declared Aegina the capital of the newly independent state and encouraged everyone to move back down to the coast. Families packed what they could carry and walked away, leaving behind frescoed interiors and stone doorframes that still stand today. Walking through Palaiochora now feels less like visiting a ruin and more like intruding on a place that has simply been asleep.
Around thirty churches survive in varying states of repair. A handful have been restored enough to enter safely, including the church of Agios Georgios with its vivid Byzantine frescoes, some dating to the thirteenth century. Others are open to the sky, their roofs long since collapsed, but their painted walls still showing traces of saints and angels in faded ochre and blue. The combination of wild oregano growing between the stones and total silence — no cars reach this spot — makes the atmosphere genuinely moving.
The walk up from the road takes about twenty minutes on a clear path. Wear proper shoes, as the terrain is uneven. There is no entrance fee and no ticket booth, though a small donation box sits near the first church. The best time to visit is early morning or late afternoon, when the light turns the pale limestone gold and the heat of midday has eased.