At the northwestern edge of Greece, where Lake Orestiada reflects the snow-covered peaks of the Pindus mountains, Kastoria experiences winter in a way that evokes ancient cults and Byzantine traditions. The mist rising from the icy waters, known locally as pousi, embraces the 18th-century mansions and Byzantine churches, creating a scene where past and present meet on every cobbled street.
As the calendar turns to 2026, this city offers an experience that goes beyond the usual celebration. Here, New Years is not merely a date but the beginning of a unique three-day event culminating in the Ragoutsaria, one of Europes oldest carnival customs.
The Last Night of the Year
December 31, 2025 finds Kastoria in a fever of preparation. In the kitchens of the mansions, sarmades (stuffed rolls) simmer for hours in clay pots. Wrapped in armi leaves, the traditional pickled cabbage prepared weeks in advance, these cabbage rolls are the ultimate festive dish. The acidity of the armi, the rich pork and beef filling, and the broth filling the house with the aroma of spices define the holiday flavors of Western Macedonia.
At 11:00 p.m., people gather at Makedonomachon Square. Tony Sfinos takes the stage, bringing with him a retro dance mania that, while contrasting, somehow fits the citys archaic aura. As midnight approaches, temperatures have dropped below zero, but the dancing keeps bodies warm.
At the exact moment 2025 becomes history, the sky above the lake is lit by fireworks reflected on the dark waters. The scene is otherworldly: the lights double in the watery mirror, the silhouettes of Byzantine churches cast shadows on the sky, and for a moment, Kastoria seems suspended outside of time.
The Ragoutsaria: Dionysian Revenge
But the real magic begins on January 6. Immediately after the Blessing of the Waters on Epiphany, religious solemnity gives way to an explosion of pagan energy. The Ragoutsaria, whose name comes from the Latin rogatores (beggars), is the living survival of the ancient winter Dionysia.
The boulouki, groups of costumed revelers accompanied by brass bands, flood the streets. There are no speakers, only the live, deafening sound of trumpets, saxophones, and drums that vibrates through body and soul. Many masks are painted with soot, as in the old days, giving a wild appearance reminiscent of a time when the custom was used to drive away the winters evil spirits.
On January 7, the day of Saint John, the bouloukia wander from neighborhood to neighborhood, house to house. Since nearly every family has someone named Yiannis or Ioanna celebrating, hospitality is limitless. Tsipouro flows freely, accompanied by lake fish appetizersgrivadi, platikes, gliniaand the dancing continues until dawn.
The climax arrives on January 8, the Pateritsa, a playful name referencing the need for support after three days of nonstop revelry. At 2:00 p.m., the grand parade begins from the Town Hall.
Within the parade, centuries condense: Byzantine memories, Ottoman influences, Macedonian tunes, and modern satire coexist in a ritual that has retained all its authenticity.
Kastoria in winter is not an easy destination. The cold is sharp, the mist thick, and the isolation of the city, almost surrounded by water, is palpable. But it is precisely these conditions that have kept a millennia-old tradition alive. Here, the way time is welcomed is not merely a celebration but a reconnection with something deeperthe human need for community, festivity, and catharsis amid the darkness of winter.
Dimitris Stathopoulos
