A rough road in the mountainous province of Plomari, starting from the main road connecting Paleochori with Plomari of Lesvos, very close to the former brings you to a wooded area. Everywhere ruins of houses, a public fountain and an “unusual” small church. Saint George of the Luviarei. Saint George of the lepers.

Welcome to Louva. Or in Loubiohori. In “Spinaloga” of Lesvos.

In this abandoned and run-down settlement, people suffering from Hansen’s disease, leprosy or luva in the local lesbian dialect, were isolated from when, but certainly until the middle of the 20th century, hence the name of the settlement.

The remnants of human unhappy presence scattered. Their focus is the public fountain from which the lepers used to water themselves, but also the very old church of Ai George with the huge pine tree showing the place from far away.

Pictures of folk painting made by the people who lived there themselves. With the legend talking about a leper painter who told the story of Christ the leper. But the image says it was taken, unknown by whom, it disappeared as if the settlement ceased, officially at least, to be synonymous with absolute evil.

Because that ultimate evil was the settlement. “Go to Luva” they said instead of “go to hell” associating the “mythical” disease one of the earliest recorded diseases that was so linked to social stigma and exclusion.

As strange as it may seem, today almost 80 years after the discovery of the drug that led to the disappearance of the disease, Loubiochori is still treated with hesitation by the locals. There are few visitors even on the day of “Ai George”. Of the Saint of the “sick physician” according to his apolytyk!

With a few laurels adorning the icon of Ai George, you notice that the pilgrims – those who arrive here – dare and avoid embracing the icon. “What are they afraid of, lest they catch a lost disease?” you ask your guide. “The memory of this place is very heavy. With many stories and still living testimonies about it as a place synonymous with hell” he answers you.

Even the cemetery of the lepers has nothing to show that it was here or there. “Don’t let it happen what?” you wonder on the way back, among ruins in Louviohori, which you say everyone wants to erase from the collective memory of the place.