The Tiny, Fabled Chapel of San Dimitri

On Saturday night (being the party hounds that we are), we took a longish walk out of our village, through the surrounding farmland and up to the Chapel of San Dimitri. It’s a tiny stone chapel in the middle of nowhere, with gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside. I visited a similar chapel at the top of a hill on the Greek island of Santorini–a place of worship in the country always have this ethereal, mythic quality to me.

Though there’s been a church there since the 15th century, the current church was built in the early 18th century. There are a number of legends associated with it. Here’s one of them:

An old woman called Natalizja Cauchi and nicknamed Zugina had only one son named Mathew. One night Barbary corsairs swooped on the island, broke into Zugina’s house, knocked her down and made away with her son. The unfortunate woman ran weeping to St. Demetrius’ chapel and poured out her heart in passionate prayer. “San Dimitri, bring me back my son, and I’ll light your lamp with a measure of oil.”

St. Demetrius heard her supplication. She saw him moving in the painting, whence he rode out and set off in pursuit of the Turkish galley. Soon he was back holding the boy in his arms. Then he reentered the picture frame, but the horse’s hoof mark remained imprinted in the rock.

There was no sign of the hoof mark, but here’s a shot of the chapel’s minuscule interior. If you check out the enormous original of this photo, you can make out the portrait of San Dimitri on horseback above the altar.