Sunjet.gif (2233 bytes)Valley of butterflies

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Paros has a beautiful "Valley of Butterflies", though calling the area where the butterflies are a "valley" is rather an exaggeration. The whole area is only a few square acres, and is situated by the foot of a hill, below a natural open well. To be geographically specific, a few kilometers south of Parikia in the same direction as the airport. The place is well marked from the main road, and situated above it. The easiest way of getting there is hiring a vehicle or a bike and going there on your own, though most organized "Tour of Paros island" make a stop here. From the parking lot there is a lovely view of Antiparos.

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What looks like little dark-green leaves with strong light nerves actually are the butterflies. They usually cling together like this.

The area is now made into a small park with paths and steps, so making your way around is rather easy. In this valley lots of bushes/trees of a certain kind grow. These trees are the favorite dish of the butterflies, and the reason why there are so many of them here. There really are lots of them, though they are not easily spotted at first sight. Not very many of them fly around in the air, though there are some, but if you want to see lots of them, look in the shadows, and close to the stone walls. In the bushes they cling by thousands. And yet they are not easy to spot; since there are so many of them and they sit on bushes with very little leaves, the butterflies themselves look like leaves. They cling to each other, really looking like leaves, dark-green with light green nerves streching out to the sides, just like on real leaves. Take a look at the photo below and further down on the page!

Around the park there are several signs telling you not to disturb the butterflies, and really, they do look like they sit there sleeping. But as I mentioned, occasionally some of them move so that we can see them flying in the air. The beautiful orange color under the wings and on the "body" then can be seen. The color is completely covered when they sit still. It is very difficult to take photos of them. With an ordinary compact camera, the butterflies appear as tiny spots that hardly can be seen on the photos. If you want really good pictures, you need good equipment with a good macro lens, and lots of patience and luck. Then you do have a chance of getting it.

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These three photos are takes in the summer of 1997, when I brought a new and better lens. The photo on the left shows this kind of butterfly the way they can be seen when they sit still on the leaves in the bushes and the trees. On the right I was lucky and came across one that had spread its wings a little so that we can se the beautiful orange color that appears when they fly.

 

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This photo is taken from underneath the same kind of butterfly. These photos are somewhat enlarged using the scanner.

If you are lucky, the "guardian" will be playing his flute. He also sells his own-recorded cassettes. (Unfortunately he was nowhere to be seen when we were here again, summer of 97). Just by the entrance there is a small kiosk where you can buy postcards with pictures of the butterflies and other motives from the valley. It is also possible to buy a snack, and we usually do, because you can enjoy is sitting in the lush shadow of a huge fig tree. Studying the leaves of this tree is very exciting. They are immense. I have to admit they remind me of the story of Adam and Eve, covering themselves with fig leaves when they realized that they were nude.

By the kiosk a small pool is made. Down on the bottom there is a lot of coins. The pool seems to be used as a wishing-well. And our son Inge knows that it works. When he was here for the first time, in 1992 at the age of 5, he threw a coin in the well, and wished as hard as he could for a Gameboy or a Gamegear (these are small portable videogames you can see children playing when they get bored on for example ferry trips). And guess what - it worked! On his 6th birthday a month later he got a Gamegear! Truly amazing or what!

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Inge and me, summer of 1992.

 

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Thanks to Hilde Reitan, Strømmen, Norway for her translation into English!
© Jan Bergtun, 20. March 1999 Updated, 07.18.2007
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