East of Kellaki in the Limassol district, there are remains of an abandoned and ruined village which bears the name "Vikla". It was built on the slope of a small and smooth hill dominating the great plains from the south, and the valley created by the tributary of Vasiliko from the north. West, two kilometers away there was another small village, Klonari. East, there was a terrain, formed by dozens of small ravines, which were created by brooks and small streams which when joined formed the river of Vasiliko.
On peak of the small hill, people built a monastery centuries ago. They dedicated it to Agios Ioannis Eleimon (the merciful). They built their village on the slope and planted their vines and their olives in the fields.
The houses were built based on traditional architecture of the semi mountainous areas of the island. The ground floor was built of stone and of plinth on the upper floor. Big, arched doors lead you through the patio, or the double room, to an external yard. The rooms for the family were found around it and the master bedroom was on the upper floor.
The streets, built of stone with great workmanship, as wide as to fit a cart to pass between the houses. From the center of the village, there is a wider road that "raises" you to the peak of the hill where the monastery used to be. Today only the central part of it is found and is in excellent condition. The extension that has been added to the Church, shows that Vikla grew for some centuries.
When walking among the crumbling mansions, you can not but admire the organization of the settlement and how much it was taken care of by its inhabitants. Although 50 years have gone by from the day that the last resident, locked his door for the last, and went to Limassol, seeking better living conditions, the situation of roads shows how well organized they were.
Most homes, if they were to be restored to their original architectural design, they would seem like mansions. With their internal huge arches, which refer to Byzantine times, large gateways and internal courtyards, give you unprecedented, fantastic images.
In front of the village is where a valley spreads. It is a huge plain with olive trees, vineyards and a large well in the center. The plain received residents from Vikla and they plowed, sowed and watered it.
The fields never “slept”. From early November, they started sowing. A little later, they started pruning vines. In spring, they unsealed the big well and they extracted water from it with the help of a bucket tied to a 100 fathoms long, in order to irrigate the trees. A vine found south of the well “gave” its shade to the farmer that was extracting water, to fill the two troughs built near the well in order to give water to his animals.
Harvest begun in June, with the sickle in the fields, and then on the plain, where with great effort and with the help of animals they sorted out the wheat from the chaff. Gathering of straw followed, which was carried to the barn.
In the middle of September is when vine harvest starts. A new feast took place in the vast plain. All residents, went out to the plain. The old men gathered the grapes and from there, they carried it in baskets and from there on to the press, where young girls with their bare feet, danced under the sounds of the violin, while pressing the grapes. The nectar that flowed from the faucet, was put in earthenware jars and turned into the world's sweetest wine. Divine Commandaria.
Finally after harvest, another God-given blessing, was waiting for the farmers, residents of Vikla. The picking of the olives, should be done before they overripe and got destroyed.
After this, life began all over again.
This was life in the once “alive” village of Vikla.
Today, the ruins dominate the hillside even though the church of Agios Ioannis is still on its peak. The plain, passed to another use. It does not produce olives, wheat, nor wine. There are no old people to prune the vines and olive trees. There are no young to carry the panniers with crops in their strong arms. No young girls to step on the grapes with their bare feet. No smoke is emitted from the houses and the air does not bring the smells of the lighted chimneys.
You can only hear voices on the plain. Voices in languages you do not understand. People from all over the world, holding an iron cane, hitting a tiny white ball with it. The plain changed. It was transformed and it became a golf court. At least the village, is "alive" during some seasons this way.
