Changing Places
Photo: Oitylo
read time: 5 mins
Mani - Migration and Immigration
Together with my wife, I’ve lived in an old village property in Neohori on the hill above Stoupa for at least 5 months a year for nearly 30 years and I’m still not sure what that makes me. A migrant? An expat? An emigré? A drifter? Along with ‘refugee’ and ‘asylum seeker’, these terms have widely differing connotations which involve nuances about wealth, motive, permanence and length of stay, nationality and even race. Although I feel equally at home in Neohori as I do in my British home in Torrington, North Devon, I remain essentially an annual visitor to Mani, although enjoying longer holidays there as a retiree than most people ever dream of. I’m much like the swallows that start arriving in Greece from south of the Sahara in early March and return at the end of August as part of their annual migrations. Although I migrate in opposite directions at different times of year and I don’t cross the equator, the swallows and I are both part-time residents in Greece and we come and go every year without fail.
A Long History of Migration
Migration is nothing new to Greece and Greeks. The phenomenon stretches back millennia. The first recorded outgoings of people from the Greek world occurred between 750 and 550 BCE, when small sea-borne expeditions left islands and city-states in search of fresh land and opportunities. These explorers navigated unfamiliar waters and, in over two centuries, established settlements across the Mediterranean and Black Seas. Some became the foundations of cities we know well today — Marseille, Istanbul, Alexandria, Odessa — while others blossomed into trading hubs in Sicily and southern Italy, the region that was later dubbed Magna Grecia. Many of these colonies thrived, drawing new settlers eager to benefit from their prosperity.
Over time, waves of conquest and empire-building reshaped the human landscape of the Mediterranean region. The Romans, Byzantines, and later the Ottomans imposed their rule, while Arabs, Franks, Venetians, and Genoese competed for dominance. With the fall of Constantinople in 1453, Greece became a vassal of the Ottoman Empire for nearly four centuries — a period that produced the first large-scale recorded exoduses from the Mani peninsula.
Maniots on the Move
In his acclaimed 1958 book Mani, Travels in the Southern Peloponnese, Patrick Leigh Fermor describes how two dominant families of the Maniot town of Oitylo plotted, quite independently, to rid themselves of overbearing Ottoman taxes, the constant interference by Ottoman troops garrisoned in the nearby Kelefa fortress and their own bloody feuds, by emigrating. In the wake of the Iatriani clan, who had claimed implausible links with the powerful Medici family of Florence and had migrated to Tuscany in 1670, the Stephanopoli clan embarked on a similar expedition across the Mediterranean. 730 people with all their worldly possessions eventually landed on the west coast of the island of Corsica in March 1676 where, after much antagonism from the locals, these alienated and displaced Maniots were granted a village of their own by the French authorities. That village, now a prosperous tourist resort with upmarket accommodation, smart restaurants and a thriving marina, is called Cargèse. It is still affectionately known as ‘le village grec’, even though the last Greek speaker died in 1976 and, apart from a restored Greek Orthodox church dedicated to Saint Spyridon, little evidence of the 300-year Maniot occupation remains. Even fewer signs of the Iatriani family’s daring mission to relocate in Tuscany exist, although it is probable that in both cases a hint of Maniot blood is coursing through the veins of some modern-day Tuscans and Corsicans.
As is a very common practice in Greece, a plaque commemorating the Stephanopoli exodus exists in the main square of Oitylo.
Oitylo
Modern day Cargèse.
Migration from the Mani has not always been so ambitious or far-flung. From 1870 onwards, Maniots sought new opportunities and greater prosperity nearer to home. Following in the footsteps of migrants from the islands of Chios and Hydra, some Maniots ‘upped sticks’ and moved to the flourishing port of Piraeus.  They were employed as dockers and porters, often on day-labour terms, engaged in the relentlessly physical and tiring work of loading and unloading merchant ships by hand. As the Maniot workforce grew, the strong networks of interdependence among its clans ensured they gained control of the labour market at the docks, leading to bitter clashes with the local Cretans in particular.
Today, the Maniot quarter of Piraeus is well known as Maniatika. Still laid out in a grid-iron pattern of streets, with a crowded mix of original houses, more modern dwellings and few public spaces, it bears little resemblance to its humble beginnings. Early signs of gentrification and social change are emerging but the strong cohesion and unbridled pride in the shared roots of many of the inhabitants remain.
The story of my Mani village, Neohori, offers a closer look at the demographic shifts of the past century. In his 1998 book Rizes (‘Roots’), former teacher Yiannis Kiskareas traced five generations of 36 Neohori families, documenting how local life intertwined with broader migration patterns.
During the 20th century, many residents left Neohori to escape poverty and lack of opportunity, to seek better prospects and to earn enough to send remittances back home to help sustain the large families they left behind. Many sought opportunities elsewhere in Greece – Kalamata and Athens were the most popular destinations – but when economic hardship was coupled with political and social unrest, especially the fall-out from the 1945-49 civil war and the dictatorship of the army-led junta (1967-1974), both of which caused or deepened divisions within communities like Neohori, the exodus gathered momentum. Migration abroad was one answer, especially to pre-existing Greek communities in the USA, Canada and Australia but also to bolster the booming post-war economies of Western Europe. Rizes records that almost 200 Neohori residents migrated abroad during those unsettled times, adding to the worldwide Greek diaspora.
The Tide Turns
The 21st century has seen the tide of migration turn. Instead of losing population, West Mani has been growing at a steady rate with foreigners, often North and West Europeans, at the forefront. What started in the final decades of the 20th century as a trickle of Albanians seeking work and Austrians and Germans travelling overland through the former Yugoslavia in search of the perfect summer holiday, became a stream. Brits and Dutch were the first to follow in their footsteps, followed by Swiss, Scandinavians, Belgians and French. The allure of a stunning holiday destination that ticked all the boxes spread quickly and by 2024 Kalamata airport was receiving close to 300,000 international passengers a year.
It rarely took more than a few visits for these summer migrants – often staying just a week or two each year – to begin yearning for more of the sun, sea, and unmatched hospitality that the Mani offered. For the fortunate few whose circumstances allowed, the abundance of empty, aging village houses ripe for restoration into holiday homes proved irresistible. And so, the property boom in West Mani began.
Holiday homes soon evolved into permanent residences as their owners retired, while new construction surged, extending villages like Neohori well beyond their traditional boundaries. The rental market also flourished in response to rising demand. This wave of newcomers was no longer made up solely of retirees; younger couples, some empowered by remote working and eager to raise families in a more appealing environment, joined the influx. Wealthier buyers, drawn by the region’s dramatic vistas, commissioned luxury villas on once-inaccessible hillsides—complete with sweeping views and state-of-the-art security systems.
In little more than two decades, West Mani’s landscape transformed from a scattering of historic, stone-built villages nestled in olive groves into a dense patchwork of red-tiled roofs, disfigured hillsides and broken skylines. And today, it’s not only North and West Europeans contributing to the change. Many Greeks, too, are part of the story: some returning to lavishly restored family homes after years abroad, others escaping the pressures of city life for the tranquility of this idyllic coast.
What of the Future?
But how much more change can the Mani sustain? In an age where ‘overtourism’ is blighting some Greek islands like Mykonos, Santorini and Zakynthos, when is it time to put the brakes on further housing development and the ‘degrecofication’ of the Mani?  How long can it balance its international appeal with the preservation of its identity? Infrastructure is already strained with freshwater supply and waste management buckling under the weight of summer visitors. At the same time, climate change is adding new threats: hotter summers, fiercer wildfires and dwindling rainfall depleting underground water reserves.
But the Mani has become increasingly dependent on tourism for its prosperity. Whereas most local Maniot families used to rely on olive oil as their primary source of income, it has become a sideline for many. Tourism in all its forms is now their economic mainstay. But there are signs that the sector is creaking. The summer of 2024 was the first when labour shortages in the West Mani tourist industry became an issue and it is showing no signs of going away.
In September 2025 the Greek government announced a €1.6 million package to stop population decline by introducing tax breaks and financial incentives to increase the birth rate. Earlier in the year, it had already implemented a controversial suspension, for three months at least, of the rights of undocumented migrants to seek asylum. This was intended to discourage further boat crossings from North Africa which in May and June of 2025 had reached worrying proportions.
An ageing population and legislation to increase the birth rate which will take years for the benefits to be felt, may require the Greek government to urgently examine other means of satisfying its spiralling labour crisis. Planned and controlled immigration of people with the necessary skills and experience might provide the answer. After all, how would the West Mani building boom and the servicing of the tourist industry have happened without the skills and hard work of Albanian immigrants? What is clear is that the story of migration continues to shape the destiny of Greece and the Mani just as it has done for millennia.
John, excellent article. Thanks!