The Ecomuseum of the Municipality of Sitia doesn’t just exist—it breathes. Its walls, grounds, and air hold stories of the olive tree, deeply rooted in Cretan soil and soul. This place isn’t about sales pitches or shallow slogans; it’s raw and unfiltered—a museum piece that pulses with life. When visitors enter, they aren’t observers. They are witnesses. Participants.
Recently (video), a day like no other unfolded here. Producers and artisans—those who give their lives to the olive tree—gathered to share their work. In low voices, they spoke of their craft and their lineage. In hands worn by labour, they offered samples of liquid gold. At these tasting events, what the visitor holds in their hand is not merely olive oil. It’s time solidified into a bottle, wisdom distilled drop by drop.
And in the middle of it all, Ivan Sourvil looked on. A journalist from Kazakhstan was invited to chronicle what he called “Sitia: The City of Olive Oil.” He came armed with curiosity and questions. He left with stories—and a changed understanding of what olive oil truly means. “This wasn’t just a site or a factory,” he remarked. “This was something human. The soil’s story intertwined with the people’s.”
Visitors learn, step by step, what makes this olive oil unlike any other: the whispers of the breeze through the olive groves, the ancient methods passed down through generations, and the final tasting that stays on the tongue long after it’s gone.
Switching the Lens: From History to Hope
But there is more to the Ecomuseum. It doesn’t rest on yesterday’s achievements. It builds for tomorrow. Two spaces define this mission:
The Olive Education Center (formerly K.E.G.E.)
At this transformed property, visitors encounter knowledge. The new facilities provide an immersive learning ground, elevating local expertise while offering one-of-a-kind educational tourism. The Center stands ready to teach, but it also listens.
The Maronia Olive Mill (The Factory)
This building feels like a time capsule. Its architecture whispers of decades past. It’s a reminder that industries were once built on human hands, not machines. Soon, though, new lighting systems will enhance its visibility—not to erase its history but to highlight it.
A Collaborative Effort
None of this happens in isolation. Backed by the Municipality of Sitia and the Organization for Development of Sitia (OAS), local communities profoundly shaped these spaces. The University of Crete and the Natural History Museum of Crete enhanced this vision, integrating routes between sites. Visitors feel it the moment they walk through those spaces—someone listened to what was needed, and plans weren’t just drawn; they were lived.
The final goals have been meticulously outlined:
- To unite the farming past with the future, aligning tradition with adaptability.
- To provide a mirror for the Sitia people to reflect on their identity among ancient trees and roots.
- To hold up that exact reflection for outsiders, inviting respect for a culture shaped by the land and its fruits.
The transformation, described once by Christos Stylianides during a similar initiative to preserve Greece’s cultural identity, echoes here: “We must continue to protect these legacies with strengthened international cooperation and through a fusion of past and present.”
For anyone walking through the Ecomuseum now, that fusion feels tangible—each olive branch, each stone holding its weight in memory.
The Ecomuseum of the Municipality of Sitia is no stale exhibit. No glossy brochure in disguise. It’s a living, open book you walk through, page by page. Its narrative is one of endurance, hope, and quiet pride in the olive tree—symbolizing life and how to live.
