We're at the back, listening to the chanting. The candle-style light bulbs in the chandeliers overhead give the interior of this church an ethereal glow. The air conditioning's on and it's much cooler in here than it is outside in the plateia.
Just before nine, big blotches of rain turn into a downpour. The people who, seconds ago were sitting on the kafenion tables around the plateia, huddle inside and under the awning. And then the rain stops, the bells clang and the parade through the village begins.
And the parade returns, past busy tavernas and open-mouthed tourists who can't believe their luck in coming across such an interesting tradition.
'You are welcome,' village friends say. 'We have plenty to share.'
In the plateia again and the men shut themselves in the syllogos to mix the sperna, a concoction of boiled wheat, raisins, almonds, sugar, pepper, aniseed and cinnamon. Known in some regions as koliva, this ritual food is meant to symbolise death and resurrection.
Earlier in the day, the wheat slowly softened as it bubbled away in great cauldrons on fires built in the school's covered play area.
Today, the church is full and hot - no air conditioning on - as the congregation comes and goes throughout the service. After two hours, the man goes up the ladder to clang the bells one more time.
We feel privileged to be part of this very special village on this very special day.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x