Day 10. Roumeli - Lost Girl in the blue bikini - Unoranges
So, somewhat surprisingly, I am up bright and early again. I am starting to wonder now about this rising early lark. I have no problem with it when I am working but I am not working today and had a pretty full and active day just gone; although I finished it by going to bed early, or at least early by my standards.
Then realisation dawns on me: Oh my god I am getting old, I had forgotten until now that I fell into bed last night shortly before 11pm. So now I can understand why I am again awake with the sunrise as they say you need less sleep as you get older. So today’s first mystery solved and not a Columbo in sight.
Rather than have a ly ( lie ) in I decide to get up ( getting on now must make the most of time left on planet earth and all that ) and take an early morning stroll around the village. I have to say once again I am a bit surprised at how easily I get up and get out so…well so effortlessly, it is not that I am ancient or a crock it is just that when walking uphill yesterday I was fairly frazzled at times. Exercising on a regular basis most definitely has its up side. Having walked down the Samaria on previous occasions my body was always that bit slow, stiff, reluctant to comply with normal movements the following day.. but not this morning.
Even though it is just gone 7am there is already plenty of movement. One thing that is very obvious; it is mainly group activity. There are a few early morning parties of people having breakfast in several tavernas and I spot at least another two / three clumps of bodies making their way towards the gorge entrance.
My feelings are mixed here: In one sense it must be nice to share the experience with similarly minded people however on another level I was never one for being too into groups or sharing too much in company. What a load of twaddle I just wrote. What I am trying to say is sometimes, but not all, I am not at my best with people or to phrase it differently I am better off on my own…..sometimes anywasy. Okay time to move on, it is most definitely far too early in the day the start philosophising or analysing myself: we will leave that for the wee hours when accompanied by a drink or seven and some good music when I can wander fearlessly into corners of my mind that the more sober of me fears to tread.
So to reset the mood: Bright, Sunny ( at least Sunny-ish for now but there was most definitely more on the weather menu today ), Crete, Agia Roumeli, early morning, all things looking good.
I decide this morning to have breakfast in Roumeli, the restaurant of mein host. Yesterday I had breakfast in a restaurant a couple of doors up and I asked for a yogurt with fruit and honey, if you can remember the fruit got lost in translation and I ended up with a yogurt and another yogurt in the one bowl with a trickle of honey. This morning, as if in compensation for yesterdays missing fruit, I watched as a bowl with what can only be described as the contents of half a small orchard were placed in front of me with a bit of cream on top plus a pouring jar of honey. It was Parakolos’ daughter who brought the serving and just as I was about to say something to her regarding the lack of yogurt and existence of cream her father appeared and approached me, talking and welcoming me as he did so and before I could enquire about the missing yogurt she was gone. Paraklos wanted to know how I got on yesterday and what was on the agenda for today. I first off thanked him on his advise two nights ago; while the gorge was not closed today the sky was definitely more overcast today and unfortunately the clouds were of the grey Irish, bearing the gift of rain, rather than the nice fluffy, kind. I think they are Nimbus type. I informed him that I was planning to walk up to the castle / kastro later, he advised me to go up and down by the inner route, that is avoid the walk up the face of the hill nearest the village. So he left me to pilfer the orchard in a bowl, It turned out that cream on the fruit was actually yogurt and while minimal in quantity was extremely rich in quality. Greek yogurt here is special. Later while I paid my bill to his daughter he insisted on supplying me with two more of his oranges for the afternoon, for some reason unknown to me and my brain I told Parakolos that I would return later for the oranges. It turned out to be a bad idea, for me, not for the oranges; their fate was possibly predestined once they were plucked from the tree.
Still very early in the day I wandered back to the room for a while. I started listening to music and thought about reading as I listened to the music, the music was so good I stopped thinking about reading and just kept on listening.
About 11 am and I decide to venture out again. Rather than head up to the castle just yet I take a wander over the beach here. It is a nice stretch of sand: just over 500 meters from the pier to the rocks, with a very slight curve to it, the strand is welcoming and sheltered beneath the cliffs. Only the first 100 meters have sunbeds, the remainder is left to you and the sand. The sand itself here is mostly black, I am not too sure if is volcanic but is does have that sense or feel to it and while not that fine in texture it is still very gentle and accommodating, easy to walk or lie on.
Getting high and a blue bikini.
As I head off for the walk I rather reluctantly take off and abandon my hiking sandals as I near the water. Now I call them hiking sandals though the term I use I am told is rather over stretched as a friend of mine informed me that there is no such things as hiking sandals. Personally I think there is but he is older and has more grey hairs so, he may be right. Now there may not be such a thing but I have most definitely hiked a lot of miles / kilometres in these sandals with little or no blisters and so will refer to them as such. ( they are Colombia)
The day is pleasant but blowy and while Agia Roumeli will have few residents on any given day the beach is surprisingly quiet, I reckon there are less than 20 bodies around between the sand and the sea.
There is something about today, it looks like it could rain down sun all day on the one hand while on the other hand the clouds that are gripping the mountains say it could rain down rain for a while, I feel pretty sure that the wind will have it’s say on just who is going to get wet today and who is going to enjoy the sun, why not, this day could hold anything or everything.
So I have got rid of my sandals and after walking about 20 meters or so I remember glancing back to see where they were, not because of the fear that someone would take them but more so because they blended into the black sand so perfectly and I wanted to remember where I had dropped them, most likely I would be back in 20 minutes but past experience has taught me that when I am in Crete 20 minutes could so easily become 6 hours or so and I do not have the best memory.
So the journey I went on did not take six hours but it did have that WOW factor.
Everybody who has a love affair with Crete has their own reasons, own connections, own explanations for falling in love with this amazing island. Mine began years ago and it was a moment; immediately you are aware that this a moment that can never be replicated, never truly be understood but it is a moment with a sense of awareness. It just may be possible for me to convey to you what I am trying to say if I was drinking, but you would have to be equally inebriated. I will tell you about my first…..kiss with Crete...but another time.
So back to the present: As I walked along the beach I edged slowly toward the water, first a subtle wave or two….a washing of my feet, my toes, soles, then the water encompasses my feet, next up to my ankles, and then I am walking in the water and it is magical. Something happened as I continued into the water and as my feet sank so gently into the sea and sand; it felt like a hit from something pretty aromatic. Wow. I genuinely felt wonderfully dizzy, giddy for a moment ( not dizzy like from spinning too fast, this so different). The sensation went right to my head. The feeling was just amazing, electric, magical. I can remember standing there and smiling to myself knowing that this was just a moment in my life that was special it was beyond, and un-needed of, explanation, it just was…...something special.
As this sensation occurred I remember reading:
...Crete's Mystery is deep. Whoever sets foot on the island senses a mysterious force branching warmly and beneficently through his veins, senses his soul begin to grow…
...There is a kind of flame in Crete - let us call it "soul" - something more powerful than either life or death. There is pride, obstinacy, valor, and together with these something else, inexpressible and imponderable, something which makes you rejoice that you are a human being, and at the same time tremble...
...Here in Crete the monstrous immovable statues of Egypt and Assyria became small and graceful, with bodies that moved, mouths that smiled. The features and stature of God took on the features and stature of man. A new, original humanity full of agility, grace and oriental luxury lived and played in the Cretan soil...
Nikos Kazantzakis
The above are all taken from his semi-autobiographical book Report to Greco
If you flew into Chania you would not have landed in the Airport he took his name from, but, however if you have used Heraklion airport you will have used the one named after him.
Among his most famous works; The Last Temptation of Christ & Zorba the Greek.
I slowly moved my foot from the sand and felt the moment fade but I could not help continue to smile as I knew I was fortunate to just be aware of that what had just happened……….. while not knowing exactly what it was.
Then I took my tablets. ( only kidding ) ( no tablets were harmed or involved in this writing or todays waking hours)
Truth be told I know it was more than likely a balance or inner ear issue as the wind moved my body while my feet were being held in the sand. But the romantic in me wants to believe otherwise.
As I continued my stroll along the sand I ask myself, for perhaps the 100th time, why do I not swim more often. Is it down to a strange shyness or what?
My Dad, who was a lifeguard in his younger days, taught my sisters and I how so swim when we were kids. I kept it up over the years though the entrances into anything lager than a bath or shower may have involved larger time spans than months. But I never lost the ability. My parents brought us up to have a respect for the water but not to fear it, basically know your capabilities and limitations. I have never had a truly bad swimming experience so why do I avoid it?????????
As I strolled along the beach I pondered on this and came up with the conclusion that I am just shy...not of the water, not of the sea, not of the sand, just of ………...everything………
Okay I cannot really swallow that explanation myself and do not expect you to but it is the best one I can come up with for the moment.
So I give up on water shyness and just enjoy the walk to the end of the beach. I reach the rocks near the end of the stand and just as I start to make my return journey I notice a woman approaching me. She asked me if I have seen a young girl in a blue bikini? She is a bit concerned and as this whole place is so quiet and remote my immediate reaction is to calm her and say she cannot have gone too far. It turned out that she and her husband had gone to sleep on the beach and woke up to find their daughter gone and could not see / find her.
Looking back on it I can understand her worry, this is a very open beach and with so few people around you would expect to see someone you are looking for rather quickly. I counted 4 people in the water and perhaps a little over a dozen visible on the sand.
I asked about the age of her daughter as like myself she was glancing towards the sea every now and then. Her daughter was 21. I actually remember breathing a sigh of relief just then. True anything can happen to any of us at any age but I was imagining a kid between 6 and 12 while I felt someone in their 20s would be more capable of looking after themselves…….you know what I mean.
I suggested that perhaps her daughter had gone back to their hotel to get something or use the bathroom and tried to comfort or ease the lady’s concerns. She said she had not thought of that and started to head back over the beach in a hurry.
Discovering the age of the girl kinda eased my mind so I did not hurry along the way but continued to enjoy the stroll. Now I feel I should point out that the girl who got lost in the blue bikini was wearing one and did not get lost in a giant blue bikini. Just thought I would point that out. If there was a giant blue bikini on the beach I am sure we would have seen it.
I was about midday across the beach when glancing back I saw a girl in the distance. Took a photo of her and zoomed in. Okay that looks like a blue bikini so shouted to the Lady who was heading towards the hotels and hearing me she turned round and well lets just say if they had a reunion party my invitation got lost in the post.
And so then the rains came.
I guess the wind had made up it’s mind on who was getting wet today. I made my way towards Paralia for a beer and a snack. The shower was a passing one and less than an hour later and Summer in Crete is resumed. I decide to head up to the castle so I ask for the bill and as the waiter approaches I get up to leave, telling him everything was very nice and I turned out my pockets only to discover that I did not have enough to pay for everything that was very nice. I spotted the owner over to the side so I approached him and said that I would go to my room for it to which he insisted, no no, later is good. If I was elsewhere I would possibly have returned immediately with the funds however here I did not feel the need to do so and quite possibly he even may take offence if I appeared back so soon.
So I dropped in to Parakolos for the oranges and after checking directions I set off to the Kastro / Castle overlooking Agia Roumeli. I had been looking forward to this climb since I had decided to stay here and like a child I could not wait to see the inside of an old fort. There is something about them brings out the child in me, like some fellas would get excited about a car or a football match, I would be likewise with a old abandoned building. While on the surface there may not appear to be much to see you have to let yourself travel back and image what it was like when in use. If I was back in the 18th century when the fort was occupied I doubt very much I would relish this climb with childlike wonder.
So, somewhat surprisingly, I am up bright and early again. I am starting to wonder now about this rising early lark. I have no problem with it when I am working but I am not working today and had a pretty full and active day just gone; although I finished it by going to bed early, or at least early by my standards.
Then realisation dawns on me: Oh my god I am getting old, I had forgotten until now that I fell into bed last night shortly before 11pm. So now I can understand why I am again awake with the sunrise as they say you need less sleep as you get older. So today’s first mystery solved and not a Columbo in sight.
Rather than have a ly ( lie ) in I decide to get up ( getting on now must make the most of time left on planet earth and all that ) and take an early morning stroll around the village. I have to say once again I am a bit surprised at how easily I get up and get out so…well so effortlessly, it is not that I am ancient or a crock it is just that when walking uphill yesterday I was fairly frazzled at times. Exercising on a regular basis most definitely has its up side. Having walked down the Samaria on previous occasions my body was always that bit slow, stiff, reluctant to comply with normal movements the following day.. but not this morning.
Even though it is just gone 7am there is already plenty of movement. One thing that is very obvious; it is mainly group activity. There are a few early morning parties of people having breakfast in several tavernas and I spot at least another two / three clumps of bodies making their way towards the gorge entrance.
My feelings are mixed here: In one sense it must be nice to share the experience with similarly minded people however on another level I was never one for being too into groups or sharing too much in company. What a load of twaddle I just wrote. What I am trying to say is sometimes, but not all, I am not at my best with people or to phrase it differently I am better off on my own…..sometimes anywasy. Okay time to move on, it is most definitely far too early in the day the start philosophising or analysing myself: we will leave that for the wee hours when accompanied by a drink or seven and some good music when I can wander fearlessly into corners of my mind that the more sober of me fears to tread.
So to reset the mood: Bright, Sunny ( at least Sunny-ish for now but there was most definitely more on the weather menu today ), Crete, Agia Roumeli, early morning, all things looking good.
I decide this morning to have breakfast in Roumeli, the restaurant of mein host. Yesterday I had breakfast in a restaurant a couple of doors up and I asked for a yogurt with fruit and honey, if you can remember the fruit got lost in translation and I ended up with a yogurt and another yogurt in the one bowl with a trickle of honey. This morning, as if in compensation for yesterdays missing fruit, I watched as a bowl with what can only be described as the contents of half a small orchard were placed in front of me with a bit of cream on top plus a pouring jar of honey. It was Parakolos’ daughter who brought the serving and just as I was about to say something to her regarding the lack of yogurt and existence of cream her father appeared and approached me, talking and welcoming me as he did so and before I could enquire about the missing yogurt she was gone. Paraklos wanted to know how I got on yesterday and what was on the agenda for today. I first off thanked him on his advise two nights ago; while the gorge was not closed today the sky was definitely more overcast today and unfortunately the clouds were of the grey Irish, bearing the gift of rain, rather than the nice fluffy, kind. I think they are Nimbus type. I informed him that I was planning to walk up to the castle / kastro later, he advised me to go up and down by the inner route, that is avoid the walk up the face of the hill nearest the village. So he left me to pilfer the orchard in a bowl, It turned out that cream on the fruit was actually yogurt and while minimal in quantity was extremely rich in quality. Greek yogurt here is special. Later while I paid my bill to his daughter he insisted on supplying me with two more of his oranges for the afternoon, for some reason unknown to me and my brain I told Parakolos that I would return later for the oranges. It turned out to be a bad idea, for me, not for the oranges; their fate was possibly predestined once they were plucked from the tree.
Still very early in the day I wandered back to the room for a while. I started listening to music and thought about reading as I listened to the music, the music was so good I stopped thinking about reading and just kept on listening.
About 11 am and I decide to venture out again. Rather than head up to the castle just yet I take a wander over the beach here. It is a nice stretch of sand: just over 500 meters from the pier to the rocks, with a very slight curve to it, the strand is welcoming and sheltered beneath the cliffs. Only the first 100 meters have sunbeds, the remainder is left to you and the sand. The sand itself here is mostly black, I am not too sure if is volcanic but is does have that sense or feel to it and while not that fine in texture it is still very gentle and accommodating, easy to walk or lie on.
Getting high and a blue bikini.
As I head off for the walk I rather reluctantly take off and abandon my hiking sandals as I near the water. Now I call them hiking sandals though the term I use I am told is rather over stretched as a friend of mine informed me that there is no such things as hiking sandals. Personally I think there is but he is older and has more grey hairs so, he may be right. Now there may not be such a thing but I have most definitely hiked a lot of miles / kilometres in these sandals with little or no blisters and so will refer to them as such. ( they are Colombia)
The day is pleasant but blowy and while Agia Roumeli will have few residents on any given day the beach is surprisingly quiet, I reckon there are less than 20 bodies around between the sand and the sea.
There is something about today, it looks like it could rain down sun all day on the one hand while on the other hand the clouds that are gripping the mountains say it could rain down rain for a while, I feel pretty sure that the wind will have it’s say on just who is going to get wet today and who is going to enjoy the sun, why not, this day could hold anything or everything.
So I have got rid of my sandals and after walking about 20 meters or so I remember glancing back to see where they were, not because of the fear that someone would take them but more so because they blended into the black sand so perfectly and I wanted to remember where I had dropped them, most likely I would be back in 20 minutes but past experience has taught me that when I am in Crete 20 minutes could so easily become 6 hours or so and I do not have the best memory.
So the journey I went on did not take six hours but it did have that WOW factor.
Everybody who has a love affair with Crete has their own reasons, own connections, own explanations for falling in love with this amazing island. Mine began years ago and it was a moment; immediately you are aware that this a moment that can never be replicated, never truly be understood but it is a moment with a sense of awareness. It just may be possible for me to convey to you what I am trying to say if I was drinking, but you would have to be equally inebriated. I will tell you about my first…..kiss with Crete...but another time.
So back to the present: As I walked along the beach I edged slowly toward the water, first a subtle wave or two….a washing of my feet, my toes, soles, then the water encompasses my feet, next up to my ankles, and then I am walking in the water and it is magical. Something happened as I continued into the water and as my feet sank so gently into the sea and sand; it felt like a hit from something pretty aromatic. Wow. I genuinely felt wonderfully dizzy, giddy for a moment ( not dizzy like from spinning too fast, this so different). The sensation went right to my head. The feeling was just amazing, electric, magical. I can remember standing there and smiling to myself knowing that this was just a moment in my life that was special it was beyond, and un-needed of, explanation, it just was…...something special.
As this sensation occurred I remember reading:
...Crete's Mystery is deep. Whoever sets foot on the island senses a mysterious force branching warmly and beneficently through his veins, senses his soul begin to grow…
...There is a kind of flame in Crete - let us call it "soul" - something more powerful than either life or death. There is pride, obstinacy, valor, and together with these something else, inexpressible and imponderable, something which makes you rejoice that you are a human being, and at the same time tremble...
...Here in Crete the monstrous immovable statues of Egypt and Assyria became small and graceful, with bodies that moved, mouths that smiled. The features and stature of God took on the features and stature of man. A new, original humanity full of agility, grace and oriental luxury lived and played in the Cretan soil...
Nikos Kazantzakis
The above are all taken from his semi-autobiographical book Report to Greco
If you flew into Chania you would not have landed in the Airport he took his name from, but, however if you have used Heraklion airport you will have used the one named after him.
Among his most famous works; The Last Temptation of Christ & Zorba the Greek.
I slowly moved my foot from the sand and felt the moment fade but I could not help continue to smile as I knew I was fortunate to just be aware of that what had just happened……….. while not knowing exactly what it was.
Then I took my tablets. ( only kidding ) ( no tablets were harmed or involved in this writing or todays waking hours)
Truth be told I know it was more than likely a balance or inner ear issue as the wind moved my body while my feet were being held in the sand. But the romantic in me wants to believe otherwise.
As I continued my stroll along the sand I ask myself, for perhaps the 100th time, why do I not swim more often. Is it down to a strange shyness or what?
My Dad, who was a lifeguard in his younger days, taught my sisters and I how so swim when we were kids. I kept it up over the years though the entrances into anything lager than a bath or shower may have involved larger time spans than months. But I never lost the ability. My parents brought us up to have a respect for the water but not to fear it, basically know your capabilities and limitations. I have never had a truly bad swimming experience so why do I avoid it?????????
As I strolled along the beach I pondered on this and came up with the conclusion that I am just shy...not of the water, not of the sea, not of the sand, just of ………...everything………
Okay I cannot really swallow that explanation myself and do not expect you to but it is the best one I can come up with for the moment.
So I give up on water shyness and just enjoy the walk to the end of the beach. I reach the rocks near the end of the stand and just as I start to make my return journey I notice a woman approaching me. She asked me if I have seen a young girl in a blue bikini? She is a bit concerned and as this whole place is so quiet and remote my immediate reaction is to calm her and say she cannot have gone too far. It turned out that she and her husband had gone to sleep on the beach and woke up to find their daughter gone and could not see / find her.
Looking back on it I can understand her worry, this is a very open beach and with so few people around you would expect to see someone you are looking for rather quickly. I counted 4 people in the water and perhaps a little over a dozen visible on the sand.
I asked about the age of her daughter as like myself she was glancing towards the sea every now and then. Her daughter was 21. I actually remember breathing a sigh of relief just then. True anything can happen to any of us at any age but I was imagining a kid between 6 and 12 while I felt someone in their 20s would be more capable of looking after themselves…….you know what I mean.
I suggested that perhaps her daughter had gone back to their hotel to get something or use the bathroom and tried to comfort or ease the lady’s concerns. She said she had not thought of that and started to head back over the beach in a hurry.
Discovering the age of the girl kinda eased my mind so I did not hurry along the way but continued to enjoy the stroll. Now I feel I should point out that the girl who got lost in the blue bikini was wearing one and did not get lost in a giant blue bikini. Just thought I would point that out. If there was a giant blue bikini on the beach I am sure we would have seen it.
I was about midday across the beach when glancing back I saw a girl in the distance. Took a photo of her and zoomed in. Okay that looks like a blue bikini so shouted to the Lady who was heading towards the hotels and hearing me she turned round and well lets just say if they had a reunion party my invitation got lost in the post.
And so then the rains came.
I guess the wind had made up it’s mind on who was getting wet today. I made my way towards Paralia for a beer and a snack. The shower was a passing one and less than an hour later and Summer in Crete is resumed. I decide to head up to the castle so I ask for the bill and as the waiter approaches I get up to leave, telling him everything was very nice and I turned out my pockets only to discover that I did not have enough to pay for everything that was very nice. I spotted the owner over to the side so I approached him and said that I would go to my room for it to which he insisted, no no, later is good. If I was elsewhere I would possibly have returned immediately with the funds however here I did not feel the need to do so and quite possibly he even may take offence if I appeared back so soon.
So I dropped in to Parakolos for the oranges and after checking directions I set off to the Kastro / Castle overlooking Agia Roumeli. I had been looking forward to this climb since I had decided to stay here and like a child I could not wait to see the inside of an old fort. There is something about them brings out the child in me, like some fellas would get excited about a car or a football match, I would be likewise with a old abandoned building. While on the surface there may not appear to be much to see you have to let yourself travel back and image what it was like when in use. If I was back in the 18th century when the fort was occupied I doubt very much I would relish this climb with childlike wonder.
Agia Roumeli Fort.
Just to let you know that the path to the fort is easy, actually very easy, to find if you follow the sign which is near the church in Palea Agia Roumeli or check your / my good Anavasi which I had bought with hikes like this in mind. I did neither but took a shortcut that after an hour turned into a long cut to nowhere in particular. I ended up on my backside more times than once, managed to further reduce my chances of entering any beautiful legs competitions by creating paths through thickets and thorns that no self respecting goats would make a path through. So an hour and half and I am back at my starting point. I stand back and look up the hill and lo and behold I find a path working its way heavenward, I try to find this, no joy. I take one more look and have decided that it is just another excuse to return next year when whoohla…...there it is, the beginning of the path…….right where it was when I passed it three times over this last two hours and in the same place it has being in possibly this last 200 years and more. Nobody had temporarily moved it I think perhaps my legs told my eyes to ignore it when they saw it earlier.
The path is very straight forward and while not necessarily challenging it does rise pretty fast. I am not one for walking sticks however on this occasion I found one beneficial. I was fortunate to find a branch that a tree had thrown away sometime earlier in the year, not too sure why it had done so, it was a good branch in my humble opinion. The path is through a pine forest and as such starts off as any forest track but gradually becomes a shale strewn track. If you are not over keen on heights you may not enjoy this walk as there is no rail and the drop down does become pretty sheer at times. Half way up and I am glad that the tree threw away my branch. My enthusiasm is slowly being curbed by my miswanderings (my own word) earlier which used up a considerable amount of energy and the reserves of which were now in the process of being further drained by this over ambitious hill. What is an over ambitious hill; one that has mountain envy and so makes the going as tough as it possibly can. In fairness it is not that tough but my body is possibly more tired than my brain wants to admit to being.
So 20 minutes later and I finally arrive. Well worth the effort. The fort itself is rather small, smaller than you would think when looking up from the village, I doubt it could have held much more than a dozen / fifteen soldiers. But what views it offered. I had taken a lot more photographs but they were unfortunately deleted with many others, more on that later. However you can see from the 5 that I managed to keep: one of the Path up, three of the fort and one of the view looking down on the village, bear in mind that the village was not there 2 / 3 hundred years ago when the fort was occupied. Not sure when this actual fort was built, I may have read somewhere that is was 18th century but cannot be sure. The Turks started to occupy Crete back in 1645, finally occupying the island itself by 1669, a few small fortified offshore islands held out until 1715, and they, the Turks (Ottomans) remained in control until 1897 / 98.
So after all my minor trials and travails I decided to treat myself to Parakolos’ oranges; so I made myself comfortable on a stone and started to peel. These oranges were like the surrounding Cretan countryside, dry as a stick that was very dry indeed. I could not believe an orange could well be less an orange, if it were not for the skin I’d say someone had give me a funny looking barely edible tennis ball. Fortunately I had plenty of water to wash it down with. I gingerly peeled the second orange, it definitely came from the same tree and possibly the same branch. Maybe they thought that if they were not juicy they would not get eaten, well they got eaten regardless, all I can say is thank heavens for hip flasks. I decided to call them unoranges.
I spent a while walking in and around the fort and thinking while I loved being here as a tourist I would not appreciate being stationed here as a soldier. Don’t get me wrong, this is a beautiful place but these soldiers were invaders, unwanted and unwelcomed, I would not fancy there chances if they went out wandering into these Cretan hills to explore and wonder at their natural beauty.
Nothing more to relate on the day, I made my way back down, said my farewells to the branch without a tree. I was hopeful he would provide assistance to and weary tourist in time. When I got back down I indulged, as one does, in a beer, later I tried to doze for an hour but couldn’t. That night I met up with Eli and Dorit for a meal. We dined in Agia Roumeli Hotel, we were the only customers. This was not a reflection on the food or service, just how quiet the village is at night.
Said my goodbyes to Eli & Dorit and hopefully we will be in touch in the near future.
Just to let you know that the path to the fort is easy, actually very easy, to find if you follow the sign which is near the church in Palea Agia Roumeli or check your / my good Anavasi which I had bought with hikes like this in mind. I did neither but took a shortcut that after an hour turned into a long cut to nowhere in particular. I ended up on my backside more times than once, managed to further reduce my chances of entering any beautiful legs competitions by creating paths through thickets and thorns that no self respecting goats would make a path through. So an hour and half and I am back at my starting point. I stand back and look up the hill and lo and behold I find a path working its way heavenward, I try to find this, no joy. I take one more look and have decided that it is just another excuse to return next year when whoohla…...there it is, the beginning of the path…….right where it was when I passed it three times over this last two hours and in the same place it has being in possibly this last 200 years and more. Nobody had temporarily moved it I think perhaps my legs told my eyes to ignore it when they saw it earlier.
The path is very straight forward and while not necessarily challenging it does rise pretty fast. I am not one for walking sticks however on this occasion I found one beneficial. I was fortunate to find a branch that a tree had thrown away sometime earlier in the year, not too sure why it had done so, it was a good branch in my humble opinion. The path is through a pine forest and as such starts off as any forest track but gradually becomes a shale strewn track. If you are not over keen on heights you may not enjoy this walk as there is no rail and the drop down does become pretty sheer at times. Half way up and I am glad that the tree threw away my branch. My enthusiasm is slowly being curbed by my miswanderings (my own word) earlier which used up a considerable amount of energy and the reserves of which were now in the process of being further drained by this over ambitious hill. What is an over ambitious hill; one that has mountain envy and so makes the going as tough as it possibly can. In fairness it is not that tough but my body is possibly more tired than my brain wants to admit to being.
So 20 minutes later and I finally arrive. Well worth the effort. The fort itself is rather small, smaller than you would think when looking up from the village, I doubt it could have held much more than a dozen / fifteen soldiers. But what views it offered. I had taken a lot more photographs but they were unfortunately deleted with many others, more on that later. However you can see from the 5 that I managed to keep: one of the Path up, three of the fort and one of the view looking down on the village, bear in mind that the village was not there 2 / 3 hundred years ago when the fort was occupied. Not sure when this actual fort was built, I may have read somewhere that is was 18th century but cannot be sure. The Turks started to occupy Crete back in 1645, finally occupying the island itself by 1669, a few small fortified offshore islands held out until 1715, and they, the Turks (Ottomans) remained in control until 1897 / 98.
So after all my minor trials and travails I decided to treat myself to Parakolos’ oranges; so I made myself comfortable on a stone and started to peel. These oranges were like the surrounding Cretan countryside, dry as a stick that was very dry indeed. I could not believe an orange could well be less an orange, if it were not for the skin I’d say someone had give me a funny looking barely edible tennis ball. Fortunately I had plenty of water to wash it down with. I gingerly peeled the second orange, it definitely came from the same tree and possibly the same branch. Maybe they thought that if they were not juicy they would not get eaten, well they got eaten regardless, all I can say is thank heavens for hip flasks. I decided to call them unoranges.
I spent a while walking in and around the fort and thinking while I loved being here as a tourist I would not appreciate being stationed here as a soldier. Don’t get me wrong, this is a beautiful place but these soldiers were invaders, unwanted and unwelcomed, I would not fancy there chances if they went out wandering into these Cretan hills to explore and wonder at their natural beauty.
Nothing more to relate on the day, I made my way back down, said my farewells to the branch without a tree. I was hopeful he would provide assistance to and weary tourist in time. When I got back down I indulged, as one does, in a beer, later I tried to doze for an hour but couldn’t. That night I met up with Eli and Dorit for a meal. We dined in Agia Roumeli Hotel, we were the only customers. This was not a reflection on the food or service, just how quiet the village is at night.
Said my goodbyes to Eli & Dorit and hopefully we will be in touch in the near future.
Day 11. Moving Day - Moving Chairs - Moving keys?
Today I went back to Agia Galini. Ferry from Roumeli to Hora Sfakion and then the drive to Galini via Spili.
As seems to be the norm nowadays I was awake bright and early. I resisted the temptation to get up and instead read until 9 am before heading out for some yogurt and fruit in Paralia. I took my time over the coffee wanting to soak in the atmosphere of this beautiful village for just that bit longer. After breakfast I took one last walk around the village and discovered the beginning of the E4 path to Sougia; still unsure if I will ever manage to take it on. Who knows…maybe someday...sooner rather than later though.
Back to the rooms I was packed in about 5 mins and made my way to the ticket office, a one way ticket cost 12 euro if memory serves me. The ride is a little over an hour with a brief stop at Loutro. As I sat on the upper deck I saw the lady whose daughter wore a blue bikini. She nodded and smiled in recognition as she sat and joined her partner and daughter.
The ferry was fairly empty as I image it would usually be on the morning run, about a 12 / 15 passengers. With another 20 or so boarding in Loutro.
It was nice to view the route from the sea that I had walked 5 days previous and spot several people making the same journey. Just as I was enjoying the view we passed the headland where the church Ekklisia Timios Stavros is and as we approached sweet water beach the wind hit us full on. It was unbelievable. It was so strong that it took most of the 20 odd people on the top deck less than a minute to seek shelter below. I was in the process of taking a photograph when the wind nearly took my shirt off, it ended up around my neck and me with no blue bikini to hide my greying hairy chest.
The journey, or to put it more accurately the driving, from Hora Sfakion to Agia Galini was pretty uneventful. I stopped off in Frangokastello for a coffee and omelette. Here again the wind was blowing hard, strong enough to clear the beach. I did see a few hardy souls brave the flying sand however most of these seemed to pack up their towels and tablets while I enjoyed my coffee. I saw something that would have made a good picture but due to the lack of space on my card I had left my camera in the car to avoid the temptation of deleting any more images. Just as was heading off the tables and chairs started to skid along the restaurant floor. In Ireland we had moving statues here they have moving furniture.
Today I went back to Agia Galini. Ferry from Roumeli to Hora Sfakion and then the drive to Galini via Spili.
As seems to be the norm nowadays I was awake bright and early. I resisted the temptation to get up and instead read until 9 am before heading out for some yogurt and fruit in Paralia. I took my time over the coffee wanting to soak in the atmosphere of this beautiful village for just that bit longer. After breakfast I took one last walk around the village and discovered the beginning of the E4 path to Sougia; still unsure if I will ever manage to take it on. Who knows…maybe someday...sooner rather than later though.
Back to the rooms I was packed in about 5 mins and made my way to the ticket office, a one way ticket cost 12 euro if memory serves me. The ride is a little over an hour with a brief stop at Loutro. As I sat on the upper deck I saw the lady whose daughter wore a blue bikini. She nodded and smiled in recognition as she sat and joined her partner and daughter.
The ferry was fairly empty as I image it would usually be on the morning run, about a 12 / 15 passengers. With another 20 or so boarding in Loutro.
It was nice to view the route from the sea that I had walked 5 days previous and spot several people making the same journey. Just as I was enjoying the view we passed the headland where the church Ekklisia Timios Stavros is and as we approached sweet water beach the wind hit us full on. It was unbelievable. It was so strong that it took most of the 20 odd people on the top deck less than a minute to seek shelter below. I was in the process of taking a photograph when the wind nearly took my shirt off, it ended up around my neck and me with no blue bikini to hide my greying hairy chest.
The journey, or to put it more accurately the driving, from Hora Sfakion to Agia Galini was pretty uneventful. I stopped off in Frangokastello for a coffee and omelette. Here again the wind was blowing hard, strong enough to clear the beach. I did see a few hardy souls brave the flying sand however most of these seemed to pack up their towels and tablets while I enjoyed my coffee. I saw something that would have made a good picture but due to the lack of space on my card I had left my camera in the car to avoid the temptation of deleting any more images. Just as was heading off the tables and chairs started to skid along the restaurant floor. In Ireland we had moving statues here they have moving furniture.
Holy Keys
My next stop was in Spili. I parked in the main car park and started to shop around for a SD card for the camera. Spili is a nice size village / small town with all the facilities that you would require in a working / tourist town. There are pharmacy’s, health centre, post office, bank ( at least one that I can remember), police station, shops to cater for both the residential and tourist clientele. There is also a folk museum for visitors while the most famous attraction is the Venetian 'Kefalovrissi' fountain with lion heads. When I came to the island first I remember being told that Spili was most famous for its lace products, this is still very evident in the gift shops today.
I was optimistic about finding my card. So first shop no luck but am told if you go there and you will find one so go to second shop and still no good so sent elsewhere and go there but this shop is closed, not until evening time but until tomorrow. Another quick check around a few shops with luck but none of it any good. I decided to take to the road and went back to the car.
Pat pat, check my multitude of pockets…..no keys. The car is locked so I definitely had not left the key inside (thank you modern cars). Dug into my, I count them as I do so, nineteen pockets again, while there was not necessarily something in every pocket, there most definitely was nothing in the one with the hole,……...surely I didn’t …….searched under the car….realising what I had done as I stood up again I spotted the reflection in the tinted windows of the idiot who most likely used the holy pocket and quietly cursed him. Went through the pockets again, counting them as I go along. Between my shorts, hiking shirt and Colombia sleeveless vest I still have 19 pockets and still have one, only one, of them with a hole in it. Go figure. It is not like it a small hole, the car could have fell out of it. It is not like it is a new hole, I was thinking about getting it mended for nearly two years now. There is just some times when I wonder about myself.
Nothing for it but to retrace my steps. As I made my way towards the stairs out of the car park ( by the way the stairs are for the people only, not the cars, just in case you were wondering) I felt my optimism being carried away with the strong wind that was still blowing.
I glance over at the ramped exit for the cars and see a car being driven out that looks like my rental, which just so happens to look like another few hundred rentals on the island of Crete. So I look back into the carpark, the car I was searching around is still there, perhaps it was not the right car after all. Maybe I had lost the keys and the car. Oh boy do I need to get to Galini and have a drink to remind myself I am on holidays.
As I reached the top of the steps several questions were going through the addled mass that was meant to be a brain: What was I going to tell Athenscars when I phoned them? How long was I going to have to wait in Spili for someone to bring replacement keys? Would I have to go partway to meet them? What happens if I had lost the car and the keys? Surely America will never elect Donald Trump? And what is that man on the far side of the road dangling in his hands as he looks up and down the street?
I could not believe it; across the road there is a young Greek man waving keys in his left hand and looking up and down the street. My optimism just flew back in through my left ear got trapped in some wax and stayed put. I was across the road so fast Usain Bolt would have being proud of me.
Between efaristos, efaristo poli and efaristo para poli all the while shaking the poor mans hand so much he was possibly thinking the next time I see keys on the ground I am leaving them there.
Phew. How did I get away with that one. Mind you that is not the first time I mislaid keys in this very car park. The last time was back in 2010 but that is for telling on a quieter day.
So have key will travel to Galini before I lose a shoe, left ear ( how then would my sunglasses stay on straight ) or something else. The drive from Spili is about half an hour. It is a nice road, I’d say lovely but that sounds just a bit weird; I mean I do not have a thing for the road or anything. So I make the village in good time; it is around 3.30 in the afternoon. I am so happy I have a key that works in the car I let my addled mass waffle on.
Nice room….but full.
I am once again staying in Kalypso rooms. I head to the office in search of Eleni’s husband ( whose name escapes me) and find him within a couple of minutes. Eleni is off in Rethymnon and himself has no English but it should not be a problem as he is expecting me and we had met each other a few days back. So all will be good.
So much for easy. This was my second Manuel like experience of the holiday. I kid you not but this is how the conversation went. And this is the slightly shortened version.
Me: Yassou.
Himself: Yassou.
Me: Domatio? (room?)
Himself: Yes. Room.
(great he has a little English)
Me: Kala, Domatio Tesseris Nickta. (Good, room four nights)
Himself: Yes..room……….
but full.
Me. Is Endaxi, Eleni in Rethymnon says maybe room 8?
Himself: Yes room 8 good…
…....but full.
Me. Okay, Endaxi. Maybe a different room?
Himself: Yes….room 11.
Me: Great, room 11, Kala (good).
Himself: Yes….room 11
…..but full.
Okay now it is getting strange and I really want to put my feet up somewhere and enjoy a drink or 4.
Me: Maybe phone Eleni?
Himself: Yes, Eleni. Rethymnon.
And he looks at me smiling.
I took out my phone and give it to him saying Phone Eleni. As he looks at it I realise he does not know how to work mine. Fortunately he has one of his own and takes it out from his pocket and calls Eleni. Fortunately he gets through straight away. Fortunately all is cleared up in a minute, he hands me the phone and Eleni explains that I am in the same room; room 8. I thank her and hand the phone back to what’s his name who is not Manuel. So many sorries and signomies abound as he shows me to room 8 which Fortunately for me is ………..Not Full.
Ament I the Fortunate Fella. Now where was drink calling from...
My next stop was in Spili. I parked in the main car park and started to shop around for a SD card for the camera. Spili is a nice size village / small town with all the facilities that you would require in a working / tourist town. There are pharmacy’s, health centre, post office, bank ( at least one that I can remember), police station, shops to cater for both the residential and tourist clientele. There is also a folk museum for visitors while the most famous attraction is the Venetian 'Kefalovrissi' fountain with lion heads. When I came to the island first I remember being told that Spili was most famous for its lace products, this is still very evident in the gift shops today.
I was optimistic about finding my card. So first shop no luck but am told if you go there and you will find one so go to second shop and still no good so sent elsewhere and go there but this shop is closed, not until evening time but until tomorrow. Another quick check around a few shops with luck but none of it any good. I decided to take to the road and went back to the car.
Pat pat, check my multitude of pockets…..no keys. The car is locked so I definitely had not left the key inside (thank you modern cars). Dug into my, I count them as I do so, nineteen pockets again, while there was not necessarily something in every pocket, there most definitely was nothing in the one with the hole,……...surely I didn’t …….searched under the car….realising what I had done as I stood up again I spotted the reflection in the tinted windows of the idiot who most likely used the holy pocket and quietly cursed him. Went through the pockets again, counting them as I go along. Between my shorts, hiking shirt and Colombia sleeveless vest I still have 19 pockets and still have one, only one, of them with a hole in it. Go figure. It is not like it a small hole, the car could have fell out of it. It is not like it is a new hole, I was thinking about getting it mended for nearly two years now. There is just some times when I wonder about myself.
Nothing for it but to retrace my steps. As I made my way towards the stairs out of the car park ( by the way the stairs are for the people only, not the cars, just in case you were wondering) I felt my optimism being carried away with the strong wind that was still blowing.
I glance over at the ramped exit for the cars and see a car being driven out that looks like my rental, which just so happens to look like another few hundred rentals on the island of Crete. So I look back into the carpark, the car I was searching around is still there, perhaps it was not the right car after all. Maybe I had lost the keys and the car. Oh boy do I need to get to Galini and have a drink to remind myself I am on holidays.
As I reached the top of the steps several questions were going through the addled mass that was meant to be a brain: What was I going to tell Athenscars when I phoned them? How long was I going to have to wait in Spili for someone to bring replacement keys? Would I have to go partway to meet them? What happens if I had lost the car and the keys? Surely America will never elect Donald Trump? And what is that man on the far side of the road dangling in his hands as he looks up and down the street?
I could not believe it; across the road there is a young Greek man waving keys in his left hand and looking up and down the street. My optimism just flew back in through my left ear got trapped in some wax and stayed put. I was across the road so fast Usain Bolt would have being proud of me.
Between efaristos, efaristo poli and efaristo para poli all the while shaking the poor mans hand so much he was possibly thinking the next time I see keys on the ground I am leaving them there.
Phew. How did I get away with that one. Mind you that is not the first time I mislaid keys in this very car park. The last time was back in 2010 but that is for telling on a quieter day.
So have key will travel to Galini before I lose a shoe, left ear ( how then would my sunglasses stay on straight ) or something else. The drive from Spili is about half an hour. It is a nice road, I’d say lovely but that sounds just a bit weird; I mean I do not have a thing for the road or anything. So I make the village in good time; it is around 3.30 in the afternoon. I am so happy I have a key that works in the car I let my addled mass waffle on.
Nice room….but full.
I am once again staying in Kalypso rooms. I head to the office in search of Eleni’s husband ( whose name escapes me) and find him within a couple of minutes. Eleni is off in Rethymnon and himself has no English but it should not be a problem as he is expecting me and we had met each other a few days back. So all will be good.
So much for easy. This was my second Manuel like experience of the holiday. I kid you not but this is how the conversation went. And this is the slightly shortened version.
Me: Yassou.
Himself: Yassou.
Me: Domatio? (room?)
Himself: Yes. Room.
(great he has a little English)
Me: Kala, Domatio Tesseris Nickta. (Good, room four nights)
Himself: Yes..room……….
but full.
Me. Is Endaxi, Eleni in Rethymnon says maybe room 8?
Himself: Yes room 8 good…
…....but full.
Me. Okay, Endaxi. Maybe a different room?
Himself: Yes….room 11.
Me: Great, room 11, Kala (good).
Himself: Yes….room 11
…..but full.
Okay now it is getting strange and I really want to put my feet up somewhere and enjoy a drink or 4.
Me: Maybe phone Eleni?
Himself: Yes, Eleni. Rethymnon.
And he looks at me smiling.
I took out my phone and give it to him saying Phone Eleni. As he looks at it I realise he does not know how to work mine. Fortunately he has one of his own and takes it out from his pocket and calls Eleni. Fortunately he gets through straight away. Fortunately all is cleared up in a minute, he hands me the phone and Eleni explains that I am in the same room; room 8. I thank her and hand the phone back to what’s his name who is not Manuel. So many sorries and signomies abound as he shows me to room 8 which Fortunately for me is ………..Not Full.
Ament I the Fortunate Fella. Now where was drink calling from...
Day. 12 Lazy Day 3.
Got up early enough 9 am or something similar but decided this was going to be a lazy & junk food day. Went off to the shop and got stuff that I would not normally buy too often. I think I dumped half of it out the following day.
Spent the day on the balcony reading, tried listening to some music but the village gave off nicer sounds.
I had arranged to drop up to Sandy and Nicola later. They have a card reader which will enable me to transfer my photographs onto my tablet ( or at least I think now that it is a tablet, if fits in my pocket but functions as a small computer: A mini Tablet?) so I can start catching more snaps of unsuspecting sunny Crete before returning to the rain.
I could have driven up to the house but decided to walk, I thought it was perhaps 5 mins up the road, it is closer to 15 from the bottom of the village. The last time I had being up there they had only just started building the house. Maybe 6 years ago, not sure, that was in the daylight and with someone who knew where they were going. I had all day to go there and decided to wait until dusk. I know it is on the left hand side of the road….and that is about it. 5min no sign, 10 min okay I know I have not passed it but am beginning to doubt myself in the fading light. I was just about to give up and phone Sandy for directions when I hear someone start to play a guitar directly beneath the stretch of road I was on. Talk about perfect timing.
So arrive safely. Sandy gives me the grand tour. Very impressive. Sandy and Nicola have made their house / home themselves using imagination, intuition and a lot of skill. It is amazing what you can do with bales of straw, timber, a few other bits and pieces and I imagine buckets of sweat and love or should that be buckets of love and lots of sweat.
I plug in the card reader and very quickly transfer the images onto my tablet, it took less than a couple of minutes. There was a little over a thousand photographs on the card and both Sandy and Nicola passed comment on how quick the process took. For some reason there was three folders on the card with over 90% of the images in one particular folder. Before disconnecting the card reader I opened up all three folders on my tablet; all looked in order so all is good to go. I said I will check tomorrow morning that everything is okay before deleting the photographs from the card.
At this stage it was dark outside and Sandy offered to drive me back but I declined. Now if it was the NorthWest of Ireland with it’s ever present wind and bit of rain I may have taken him up on his kind gesture however with just three nights left under the Cretan sky I enjoyed the night walk. That said next time I am bringing a torch.
Got up early enough 9 am or something similar but decided this was going to be a lazy & junk food day. Went off to the shop and got stuff that I would not normally buy too often. I think I dumped half of it out the following day.
Spent the day on the balcony reading, tried listening to some music but the village gave off nicer sounds.
I had arranged to drop up to Sandy and Nicola later. They have a card reader which will enable me to transfer my photographs onto my tablet ( or at least I think now that it is a tablet, if fits in my pocket but functions as a small computer: A mini Tablet?) so I can start catching more snaps of unsuspecting sunny Crete before returning to the rain.
I could have driven up to the house but decided to walk, I thought it was perhaps 5 mins up the road, it is closer to 15 from the bottom of the village. The last time I had being up there they had only just started building the house. Maybe 6 years ago, not sure, that was in the daylight and with someone who knew where they were going. I had all day to go there and decided to wait until dusk. I know it is on the left hand side of the road….and that is about it. 5min no sign, 10 min okay I know I have not passed it but am beginning to doubt myself in the fading light. I was just about to give up and phone Sandy for directions when I hear someone start to play a guitar directly beneath the stretch of road I was on. Talk about perfect timing.
So arrive safely. Sandy gives me the grand tour. Very impressive. Sandy and Nicola have made their house / home themselves using imagination, intuition and a lot of skill. It is amazing what you can do with bales of straw, timber, a few other bits and pieces and I imagine buckets of sweat and love or should that be buckets of love and lots of sweat.
I plug in the card reader and very quickly transfer the images onto my tablet, it took less than a couple of minutes. There was a little over a thousand photographs on the card and both Sandy and Nicola passed comment on how quick the process took. For some reason there was three folders on the card with over 90% of the images in one particular folder. Before disconnecting the card reader I opened up all three folders on my tablet; all looked in order so all is good to go. I said I will check tomorrow morning that everything is okay before deleting the photographs from the card.
At this stage it was dark outside and Sandy offered to drive me back but I declined. Now if it was the NorthWest of Ireland with it’s ever present wind and bit of rain I may have taken him up on his kind gesture however with just three nights left under the Cretan sky I enjoyed the night walk. That said next time I am bringing a torch.