Our group leader informs us that vespers are at three since it is winter, followed by dinner. I have a little time to walk around. North of the cathedral, a tomb which appears to be new infuses the joy and peace of the trees and flowers with a patina of the metaphysical: not quite melancholy, but perhaps an added depth. I learn that the tomb houses Father Bessarion, who had come here in 1992 from the Xenofontos Monastery to re-establish the cenobiotic way of life, and who had died young. He was the first Abbott of the new fraternity. Despite his short span of life, it is obvious that he inspired many monks: You can still feel his essence while he sleeps at the center of the Monastery.
