The name, she said, is a mystery. Some say that it comes from an as-yet-undiscovered horde of treasure buried by pirates and others from the thousands of olive trees, the leaves of which glitter like precious metal in the rays of the golden sun. Lissa’s favourite story, though, is based on the island’s patron saints, Cosmas and Damian. “They took no payment for their work, so came to be known as the ‘Anargyroi,’ which means without silver.”
The island has always been her focus. Even when she was living and working in London, it was constantly on her mind. She lives here now with her husband Corne for about half the year, running the retreats from mid-April to mid-October.
Different teachers come for one or two weeks each, while sustainability initiatives include a solar farm, collecting water, natural cleaning products and toiletries. Corne and Lissa do all the cooking, with help from a couple of friends who go year after year to help out, and sit with guests around the table for meals, family-style. “People have made friends here; others have become our friends,” Lisa says.
Three days into my stay, my mum’s cat had to be euthanised back in London. I was inconsolable, yet felt no judgement or embarrassment about needing to mourn him.
I spent my days feeling only half-present, and yet, as I went through the motions, two hours of early-morning yoga, breakfast, walk, lunch, walk, two hours of evening yoga, read, meet the others for a drink and a chat around the firepit before dinner, I began to feel soothed.