The promise of security afforded by St John's stout walls spurred the growth of HÓRA immediately outside the fortifications. It remains architecturally homogeneous, with cobbled lanes sheltering dozens of shipowners' mansions from the island's seventeenth- to eighteenth-century heyday. High, windowless walls and imposing wooden doors betray nothing of the opulence within: painted ceilings, pebble-mosaic terraces, flagstoned kitchens, and carved furniture. Inevitably, touristic tattiness disfigures the main approaches to the monastery gate, but away from the principal thoroughfares are lanes that rarely see traffic, and by night, when the monastery ramparts are floodlit to startling effect, it's hard to think of a more beautiful Dodecanesian village. Neither should you miss the view from Platía Lódza (named after the remnant of an adjacent Venetian loggia ), particularly at dawn or dusk. Landmasses to the north, going clockwise, include Ikaría, Thymena, Foúrni, Sámos with its brooding mass of Mount Kérkis, Arkí, and the double-humped Samsun Dag (ancient Mount Mykale) in Turkey.

 

Among several tavernas in Hóra, Vangelis on the inner square has a wonderful old jukebox, friendly service and view seating on various levels, but alas the cooking has declined since the late 1990s; you'll probably eat better at Balkoni near the monastery. Again on the square, Kafeteria Stoa is minimally touristy despite its showcase interior, still functioning as the village kafenío. There are, however, very few places to stay ; foreigners here are mostly long-term occupants, who have bought up and restored almost a third of the crumbling mansions since the 1960s. Getting a short-term room can be a pretty thankless task, even in spring or autumn; the best strategy is to contact Vangelis taverna early in the day, or phone ahead for reservations to Yeoryia Triandafyllou (tel 02470/31 963; 34-42) or Marouso Kouva (tel 02470/31 026; 34-42).