Day 7. Aradena - Israel - Liviannia
Up like a Lark, like a Lark that slept in until 10 am that is. I took my time over a breakfast of Yogurt & Fruit and a coffee and decided on the route for the day.
Adine told me there was a change in the weather coming and I was lucky to be walking today as tomorrow was looking like rain. Over the years I have being caught in a couple of gorges when thunderstorms appeared and would not recommend. The rain I have come across in previous Septembers on Crete is usually fast and furious, you are soaked in minutes and more often than not within half an hour after a thunderstorm you can be drying your clothes on rocks under a blazing sun.
Adine told me there was a change in the weather coming and I was lucky to be walking today as tomorrow was looking like rain. Over the years I have being caught in a couple of gorges when thunderstorms appeared and would not recommend. The rain I have come across in previous Septembers on Crete is usually fast and furious, you are soaked in minutes and more often than not within half an hour after a thunderstorm you can be drying your clothes on rocks under a blazing sun.
Crazy: A long ladder and a short rope.
A little under two hours and you reach the ladders, see the images, you have a choice here of climbing the two ladders and then pulling yourself up an additional 3 meters with the aid of a rope or you can take the path along the side of the cliff. The last time I went for the ladders so opted for the same again. It was a mistake. The ladders are okay but unfortunately I could barely reach the rope the end of it, the bit I could just about touch with my fingertips was little more than frayed string, and even at that my finger tips could barely about touch it. Right I thought, just jump and grab it!
My back was not having any of that bright idea as it had already been complaining for about half an hour at this stage. Damn I hated the thought of going back down the ladders. I took a breather sat down and opened the hip flask.
I remembered one of Charles Bukowski quotes:
Some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must live.
Crazy is during a heat wave watering all or at least a lot of trees in your housing estate at 6 am on a Sunday morning, a basin of water at a time, while high as a kite.
Crazy is carrying an extremely large valeting sign down a Dublin street in the wee hours, drunk as a skunk, barely able to stand solo never mind doing so while carrying a sign nearly twice your height, would the Gardaí who stopped you as you fell over for the fourth or fifth time believe you when you told him you did not take it but one of your house mates had removed it and you were just returning it. I doubt it, I would have a hard time believing it myself and I nearly know me.
Jumping for that rope when your body is in a near state of mutiny is not crazy but possibly closer to stupid.
So I walk back to the rope, touch it, think a bit more, look up a the path that I do not want to take and say Bollocks. I head back towards the ladders and begrudgingly, albeit carefully, make my back down them.
So up the steps I had shunned about 20 minutes ago, the websites that I checked out prior to coming to Crete this year warned about the disrepair of this path; they are right to do so, while it is not too challenging there are plenty of loose stones; I had to check myself on at least two occasions and as for the timber fence, well once you see it up close you know not to lean on any part of it. ( And if you do happen to use it for support...well… you should have gone to Specsavers) Perhaps I am being overcritical as I still annoyed with the nearby world for not being able to reach the rope.
As I am on the path I look down and see a solo male hiker walk over to the edge of the rocks where the rope and ladders are, he takes a long look down and then opts for the path and starts climbing towards me. Just as I reach the floor of the gorge, again another solo make hiker approaches the rocks, takes a quick look down, and makes for the side path.
From here it is an easy 3/4 Km to the base of steps that will lead to the village of Aradena. You know you are nearing the exit when you look up and see the bailey bridge spanning the gorge, chances are you will have already heard 2 or 3 cars driving over it giving off the sound of rolling thunder. This bailey bridge is the highest in Crete and I read the second highest bailey bridge still in use in Europe. At weekends it was (could possibly still be) used for bungee jumping. The bridge was constructed in 1986 it being a gift from two brothers to their village of Agios Ioannis. Prior to this you had to cross the gorge by going down, and then up the cobbled mule tracks (Kalderimi), that line the sides of the Aradena and many other gorges and hills throughout Crete ( and I suppose Greece in general).
The Kalderimi to the village is just a quarter of km in length and rises out to the gorge as a switch back trail. While it is a good path and fairly short it can be trying as you will have just spent the last 2-3 hours walking uphill. Once you reach the top you are in the village of Aradena; there is a tragic story to be told about this place which I will attempt to relate on my next quiet day.
After taking a couple of photographs in the village I made haste towards the roadside taverna, I hear something calling me that has froth and bubbles. Even though I had only eaten a yogurt and a light omelette earlier I was not hungry so just opted for a litre and half of water, large beer and a sprite. I thought I had taken my time on the walk and what with the visit to the ladders and having to backtrack a little I was surprised it had taken me less than 3 hours. The time given is usually between 2.5 and 3 but I felt I had taken closer to 3.5 so it was a nice surprise. So maybe I am not as decrepit as certain parts of my body keep telling me. Still there is another 2 hours to hike back to my rooms so perhaps I should hold off on the self congratulations just yet. As they say there is only a couple of inches between a clap on the back and kick in the backside.
So after resting for about half an hour I head off on the return leg of the journey. From the bailey bridge it is about 7.5 - 8 km to Lykos bay the first 3.5 of which is on an asphalt road, about 2 km or a little less of a dirt trail and the last 2.5 km or so on an unpaved / dirt road.
A little under two hours and you reach the ladders, see the images, you have a choice here of climbing the two ladders and then pulling yourself up an additional 3 meters with the aid of a rope or you can take the path along the side of the cliff. The last time I went for the ladders so opted for the same again. It was a mistake. The ladders are okay but unfortunately I could barely reach the rope the end of it, the bit I could just about touch with my fingertips was little more than frayed string, and even at that my finger tips could barely about touch it. Right I thought, just jump and grab it!
My back was not having any of that bright idea as it had already been complaining for about half an hour at this stage. Damn I hated the thought of going back down the ladders. I took a breather sat down and opened the hip flask.
I remembered one of Charles Bukowski quotes:
Some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must live.
Crazy is during a heat wave watering all or at least a lot of trees in your housing estate at 6 am on a Sunday morning, a basin of water at a time, while high as a kite.
Crazy is carrying an extremely large valeting sign down a Dublin street in the wee hours, drunk as a skunk, barely able to stand solo never mind doing so while carrying a sign nearly twice your height, would the Gardaí who stopped you as you fell over for the fourth or fifth time believe you when you told him you did not take it but one of your house mates had removed it and you were just returning it. I doubt it, I would have a hard time believing it myself and I nearly know me.
Jumping for that rope when your body is in a near state of mutiny is not crazy but possibly closer to stupid.
So I walk back to the rope, touch it, think a bit more, look up a the path that I do not want to take and say Bollocks. I head back towards the ladders and begrudgingly, albeit carefully, make my back down them.
So up the steps I had shunned about 20 minutes ago, the websites that I checked out prior to coming to Crete this year warned about the disrepair of this path; they are right to do so, while it is not too challenging there are plenty of loose stones; I had to check myself on at least two occasions and as for the timber fence, well once you see it up close you know not to lean on any part of it. ( And if you do happen to use it for support...well… you should have gone to Specsavers) Perhaps I am being overcritical as I still annoyed with the nearby world for not being able to reach the rope.
As I am on the path I look down and see a solo male hiker walk over to the edge of the rocks where the rope and ladders are, he takes a long look down and then opts for the path and starts climbing towards me. Just as I reach the floor of the gorge, again another solo make hiker approaches the rocks, takes a quick look down, and makes for the side path.
From here it is an easy 3/4 Km to the base of steps that will lead to the village of Aradena. You know you are nearing the exit when you look up and see the bailey bridge spanning the gorge, chances are you will have already heard 2 or 3 cars driving over it giving off the sound of rolling thunder. This bailey bridge is the highest in Crete and I read the second highest bailey bridge still in use in Europe. At weekends it was (could possibly still be) used for bungee jumping. The bridge was constructed in 1986 it being a gift from two brothers to their village of Agios Ioannis. Prior to this you had to cross the gorge by going down, and then up the cobbled mule tracks (Kalderimi), that line the sides of the Aradena and many other gorges and hills throughout Crete ( and I suppose Greece in general).
The Kalderimi to the village is just a quarter of km in length and rises out to the gorge as a switch back trail. While it is a good path and fairly short it can be trying as you will have just spent the last 2-3 hours walking uphill. Once you reach the top you are in the village of Aradena; there is a tragic story to be told about this place which I will attempt to relate on my next quiet day.
After taking a couple of photographs in the village I made haste towards the roadside taverna, I hear something calling me that has froth and bubbles. Even though I had only eaten a yogurt and a light omelette earlier I was not hungry so just opted for a litre and half of water, large beer and a sprite. I thought I had taken my time on the walk and what with the visit to the ladders and having to backtrack a little I was surprised it had taken me less than 3 hours. The time given is usually between 2.5 and 3 but I felt I had taken closer to 3.5 so it was a nice surprise. So maybe I am not as decrepit as certain parts of my body keep telling me. Still there is another 2 hours to hike back to my rooms so perhaps I should hold off on the self congratulations just yet. As they say there is only a couple of inches between a clap on the back and kick in the backside.
So after resting for about half an hour I head off on the return leg of the journey. From the bailey bridge it is about 7.5 - 8 km to Lykos bay the first 3.5 of which is on an asphalt road, about 2 km or a little less of a dirt trail and the last 2.5 km or so on an unpaved / dirt road.
I can see for miles and miles but where’s the path?
While I enjoyed the walk in the gorge I felt, as I began the return leg on the tarred road, myself slip into a quite unreal relaxed state of mind. Now the landscape may appear barren but there is a quiet beauty to it, I thought of The Who and their line I can see for miles and miles. My English skills are not up to the task of describing how I felt so I will not even try…ah what the hell I will try….lets call it a type of mellow madness, you know when your are in one of those content places in your life or more so in your head, you smile but you are not quite sure why you are smiling, you are happy but for no particular reason, everything just feels…………...right. It is like watching a beautiful sunset, taking the first drink out a perfect pint of Guinness, I suppose a first kiss might even make a good comparison ( though I am struggling to remember that far back).
So there I went along the road smiling simply or simply smiling, if someone passed me by in their car and saw the smile on my face they would possibly think: Oh look at that guy, he forgot to take his tablets today or possibly he took too many of them. I probably did as well.
After about 40 minutes I came to the foot trail; I thought briefly of taking the safe / easy way by staying on the road rather than taking a path I had not being on before however my sanity eluded me once more. I had nearly two hours of light left and 40 minutes should see me in Livaniana. As you can see by the images you have to go along the side of a steep barren hill so it should be relatively straight forward. All went well for the first minute on the path and then by the third minute I had somehow lost it, this can be so easy done when walking in Crete, I have in the past managed to do this on so many previous occasions that I gave up berating myself years ago. So I walked in the general direction that I knew / felt the path would head and within a couple of minutes I see it. It was a good 40 + feet below me, I could hardly believe it was so far away within such a short space of time. Unaware I had started to slowly ascend as the path descended, as I slowly and carefully make my way down towards where I was meant to be I end shimmying down part of the way on my backside. I am about half way there when I see a hiker heading in the opposite direction, of course I make sure once they are in sight that I remain vertical at all cost, cannot let myself down. A few minutes later and I reach the trail.
Less than a km on and you reach some ancient steps that bring you down to the back of the village, beautiful though they are they are so highly polished by the elements that I would not fancy descending these steps after a thunderstorm. Or worse still after a thunderstorm in the dark without a torch, throw in a few raki and I would turn back for the asphalt. Down the steps, over a few rocks, walk along the edge of a field and you are just at the edge of the village. This particular path had more than its share of blue dabs of paint to indicate the trail however once you reach the end of the field you have to turn left however the first blue dabs of paint that I saw at this stage of the trail dragged me right, a couple of steps and it dawned on me that this was the trail down into the gorge, the same one that Dorit and Eli would have taken yesterday.
So back on track, down through the village, onto the dirt road, I would possibly have stopped here but the only taverna is closed. Strictly speaking not a mountain village Livaniana has the feel of one with less than 2 dozens houses, a church, possibly a café neon in it that would open up later for the locals and no shop.
So 25 minutes later and I am sitting in Little Paradise sipping a cold beer.
Later that night after a pleasant meal I decide I will sip on a beer listening to the waves…….though it is not quite 10 pm, I last about two sips and find myself making for the bed. These gorges and all this fresh Cretan air can wear a body out.
For a professional description of the walk I recommend you visit:
http://www.west-crete.com/aradena-gorge.htm
While I enjoyed the walk in the gorge I felt, as I began the return leg on the tarred road, myself slip into a quite unreal relaxed state of mind. Now the landscape may appear barren but there is a quiet beauty to it, I thought of The Who and their line I can see for miles and miles. My English skills are not up to the task of describing how I felt so I will not even try…ah what the hell I will try….lets call it a type of mellow madness, you know when your are in one of those content places in your life or more so in your head, you smile but you are not quite sure why you are smiling, you are happy but for no particular reason, everything just feels…………...right. It is like watching a beautiful sunset, taking the first drink out a perfect pint of Guinness, I suppose a first kiss might even make a good comparison ( though I am struggling to remember that far back).
So there I went along the road smiling simply or simply smiling, if someone passed me by in their car and saw the smile on my face they would possibly think: Oh look at that guy, he forgot to take his tablets today or possibly he took too many of them. I probably did as well.
After about 40 minutes I came to the foot trail; I thought briefly of taking the safe / easy way by staying on the road rather than taking a path I had not being on before however my sanity eluded me once more. I had nearly two hours of light left and 40 minutes should see me in Livaniana. As you can see by the images you have to go along the side of a steep barren hill so it should be relatively straight forward. All went well for the first minute on the path and then by the third minute I had somehow lost it, this can be so easy done when walking in Crete, I have in the past managed to do this on so many previous occasions that I gave up berating myself years ago. So I walked in the general direction that I knew / felt the path would head and within a couple of minutes I see it. It was a good 40 + feet below me, I could hardly believe it was so far away within such a short space of time. Unaware I had started to slowly ascend as the path descended, as I slowly and carefully make my way down towards where I was meant to be I end shimmying down part of the way on my backside. I am about half way there when I see a hiker heading in the opposite direction, of course I make sure once they are in sight that I remain vertical at all cost, cannot let myself down. A few minutes later and I reach the trail.
Less than a km on and you reach some ancient steps that bring you down to the back of the village, beautiful though they are they are so highly polished by the elements that I would not fancy descending these steps after a thunderstorm. Or worse still after a thunderstorm in the dark without a torch, throw in a few raki and I would turn back for the asphalt. Down the steps, over a few rocks, walk along the edge of a field and you are just at the edge of the village. This particular path had more than its share of blue dabs of paint to indicate the trail however once you reach the end of the field you have to turn left however the first blue dabs of paint that I saw at this stage of the trail dragged me right, a couple of steps and it dawned on me that this was the trail down into the gorge, the same one that Dorit and Eli would have taken yesterday.
So back on track, down through the village, onto the dirt road, I would possibly have stopped here but the only taverna is closed. Strictly speaking not a mountain village Livaniana has the feel of one with less than 2 dozens houses, a church, possibly a café neon in it that would open up later for the locals and no shop.
So 25 minutes later and I am sitting in Little Paradise sipping a cold beer.
Later that night after a pleasant meal I decide I will sip on a beer listening to the waves…….though it is not quite 10 pm, I last about two sips and find myself making for the bed. These gorges and all this fresh Cretan air can wear a body out.
For a professional description of the walk I recommend you visit:
http://www.west-crete.com/aradena-gorge.htm
Day 8. Loutro - Ferry - Agia Roumeli
Woke up shortly after 9, checked the legs, yes they were working. I was amazed there was so little stiffness, all those evening walks throughout this last year were paying dividends.
As the weather was forecasting showers, thunderstorms, generally an unhappy sky for today I had decided on the ferry last night. It was probably best, even though I felt good for now that would most likely not last the length of the walk to Agia Roumeli.
So a quick job of packing followed by a breakfast of fruit and yogurt and I was on my way to Loutro. As I made my way up the dirt road I was glad I had opted for the ferry, the clouds in the hills and mountains were looking pretty ominous. It takes about 20 minutes to walk to Loutro, this time I took the most direct route, via the Turkish fort. After you pass by the fort you can opt to walk straight on and come down near the centre of the village or take a right turn in the path that brings you out near the ferry. Considering I had viewed the ferry approaching from the top of the hill I took the shorter option.
On the dock I went to purchase my ticket however the power in the area had just shut down due to a thunderstorm in the nearby hills so I would have to get it on board. Power outages can be pretty much expected when there is bad weather in the mountains and hills. Most of the time I have experienced them in late Septembers the power is resumed within anything from minutes to an hour or two. Once in Paleochora years ago it was out for 6 - 7 hours but that was during one hell of an angry, but beautiful, storm. I still remember all the taverna staff running to get the chairs in of the street as it came down in buckets. Most of the chairs and tables had just being pulled onto the side of the street when a small river literally appeared less than five minutes from when the first rain drops fell. Obviously someone did not sacrifice the right goat. I imagine the interruptions can be more frequent and last longer during the winter months.
So as I board the ferry who should I meet but Dorit and Eli. They tell me that yesterday they walked back from Marmara to the Old Phoenix instead of taking the boat. Not only that but they opted for the same route along the cliff instead of taking the easier one on the dirt road. I was pleasantly and mildly surprised. They have booked for 4 nights in The Sweet Corner so after chatting for a part of the journey I said if I did not call over to their rooms I would keep an eye out for them in the village.
Although the bad weather did not materialise along the stretch of coast I was happy not to have hiked; you can see from the photographs that there was enough clouds hanging over the mountains along the seashore to make one wary. That was me Wary Padraig. Better than Weary Padraig I thought to myself.
As the weather was forecasting showers, thunderstorms, generally an unhappy sky for today I had decided on the ferry last night. It was probably best, even though I felt good for now that would most likely not last the length of the walk to Agia Roumeli.
So a quick job of packing followed by a breakfast of fruit and yogurt and I was on my way to Loutro. As I made my way up the dirt road I was glad I had opted for the ferry, the clouds in the hills and mountains were looking pretty ominous. It takes about 20 minutes to walk to Loutro, this time I took the most direct route, via the Turkish fort. After you pass by the fort you can opt to walk straight on and come down near the centre of the village or take a right turn in the path that brings you out near the ferry. Considering I had viewed the ferry approaching from the top of the hill I took the shorter option.
On the dock I went to purchase my ticket however the power in the area had just shut down due to a thunderstorm in the nearby hills so I would have to get it on board. Power outages can be pretty much expected when there is bad weather in the mountains and hills. Most of the time I have experienced them in late Septembers the power is resumed within anything from minutes to an hour or two. Once in Paleochora years ago it was out for 6 - 7 hours but that was during one hell of an angry, but beautiful, storm. I still remember all the taverna staff running to get the chairs in of the street as it came down in buckets. Most of the chairs and tables had just being pulled onto the side of the street when a small river literally appeared less than five minutes from when the first rain drops fell. Obviously someone did not sacrifice the right goat. I imagine the interruptions can be more frequent and last longer during the winter months.
So as I board the ferry who should I meet but Dorit and Eli. They tell me that yesterday they walked back from Marmara to the Old Phoenix instead of taking the boat. Not only that but they opted for the same route along the cliff instead of taking the easier one on the dirt road. I was pleasantly and mildly surprised. They have booked for 4 nights in The Sweet Corner so after chatting for a part of the journey I said if I did not call over to their rooms I would keep an eye out for them in the village.
Although the bad weather did not materialise along the stretch of coast I was happy not to have hiked; you can see from the photographs that there was enough clouds hanging over the mountains along the seashore to make one wary. That was me Wary Padraig. Better than Weary Padraig I thought to myself.
Agia Roumeli.
How to describe Agia Roumeli. The village is only accessible by boat or walking.
Ferries arrive from both the East & West. From Paleochora and Sougia in the West and Hora Skafion in the East.
The most popular walk to the village is via the Samaria Gorge and while hundreds, it is said that sometimes the numbers can be up to two thousand, do this 16 km / 18km hike every day ( the gorge itself is 13 km and I believe the second longest in Europe )throughout the summer (weather permitting) I would say less than 1% of the hikers stay overnight in the village. The other 99% get the evening ferries back to one of the villages mentioned above where a bus will be waiting to bring them back to their rooms most of which will be on the North side of the island with some facing a near 3 hour bus journey back to places as far as Stalis or Malia.
You can also walk from the East, which I had planned to do, the route is long but straightforward with little shade and no water unless the taverna beside Agios Pavlos (Saint Paul) is open which is about an hour from Agia Roumeli.
The walk from Sougia is a different kettle of fish. Not advised unless you are an experienced hiker and even then it is suggested you spread it over two days with a camp out overnight. Still undecided if I should give it a go within my next visit or two. While I usually prefer hiking solo I am not sure about this route, probably best with company, so to find a like minded fool….sorry I meant creature.
There are approximately two dozen hotels / rooms each with a taverna. For a village with so little road you can be surprised at the amount of vehicles here. Most are used to take the supplies from the ferry to their hotels and even up to the older village of Agia Roumeli which is 2 km past the modern one that predominately caters for us tourists. The vehicles are also needed by the locals when they need to travel inland, the ferry transports them to the harbours of Hora Skafion or Sougia / Paleochora. The older village I just mentioned was abandoned in 1954 due to the amount of flood damage that the winter rains coming down the gorge was causing and the locals built and relocated to this one near the sea . While the older village is still in places in want of repair many of the buildings appear to have had work / renovations done to them over they last few years. There is plenty of livestock there, mainly goats and fowl, and at glance I would say about a third or more of the buildings look like they are inhabited. Though if you look at tomorrow images you will see that many are beyond repair.
How to describe Agia Roumeli. The village is only accessible by boat or walking.
Ferries arrive from both the East & West. From Paleochora and Sougia in the West and Hora Skafion in the East.
The most popular walk to the village is via the Samaria Gorge and while hundreds, it is said that sometimes the numbers can be up to two thousand, do this 16 km / 18km hike every day ( the gorge itself is 13 km and I believe the second longest in Europe )throughout the summer (weather permitting) I would say less than 1% of the hikers stay overnight in the village. The other 99% get the evening ferries back to one of the villages mentioned above where a bus will be waiting to bring them back to their rooms most of which will be on the North side of the island with some facing a near 3 hour bus journey back to places as far as Stalis or Malia.
You can also walk from the East, which I had planned to do, the route is long but straightforward with little shade and no water unless the taverna beside Agios Pavlos (Saint Paul) is open which is about an hour from Agia Roumeli.
The walk from Sougia is a different kettle of fish. Not advised unless you are an experienced hiker and even then it is suggested you spread it over two days with a camp out overnight. Still undecided if I should give it a go within my next visit or two. While I usually prefer hiking solo I am not sure about this route, probably best with company, so to find a like minded fool….sorry I meant creature.
There are approximately two dozen hotels / rooms each with a taverna. For a village with so little road you can be surprised at the amount of vehicles here. Most are used to take the supplies from the ferry to their hotels and even up to the older village of Agia Roumeli which is 2 km past the modern one that predominately caters for us tourists. The vehicles are also needed by the locals when they need to travel inland, the ferry transports them to the harbours of Hora Skafion or Sougia / Paleochora. The older village I just mentioned was abandoned in 1954 due to the amount of flood damage that the winter rains coming down the gorge was causing and the locals built and relocated to this one near the sea . While the older village is still in places in want of repair many of the buildings appear to have had work / renovations done to them over they last few years. There is plenty of livestock there, mainly goats and fowl, and at glance I would say about a third or more of the buildings look like they are inhabited. Though if you look at tomorrow images you will see that many are beyond repair.
French underwear - CPE - Jewish knocks.
The hotel I am staying is the Samaria Hotel which is less than 200 meters from the ferry, straight up.
As the passengers disembark from the ferry I see the people in front fade to the left and to the right until I notice there is just one person walking in front of me, it seems just a tad strange, it is (he is) a young man and here is wheeling what has to be one of the smallest suitcase I have seen along the cobbled road I ask myself why is he not carrying it, if it was a female I would have offered to do so, ( I recall an ex who had a make up bag bigger than it) this case seems so small that I am sure he could manage to get two of them allowed on a flight as hand luggage, I am not too sure how the wheels survived the, though brief, large cobblestoned journey, possibly the reason it did survive was due to the briefness of the trip or / and the smallness of the case, or perhaps the combination of both. He enters the / my Hotel just in front of me, a lady appears who has very little English, she asks us to wait in the lounge while she fetches someone for us who does speak English. The lounge is just to the left as you enter and It is large comfortable room and I can image it being nice and cool on the hotter days.
I nod and say hi to my fellow guest who sits across the table from me, I think he nodded back, I think his eyes might have moved but his hair stayed in place. He appears extra neat, like an American from one of these perfectly cheesy TV shows ( you know the ones where only beautiful people need apply acting skills optional but perfect hair, skin and teeth requisite ), where as I am a bit sweaty, crumbled and creased ( my clothes mostly but a bit of my face as well) and in need of a shave which may, or may not, happen in a day or three; while he appears to be ready to walk onto a photo shoot to sell men's products. No conversation. That’s okay.
A couple of minutes and our host Prokopis arrives. He introduces himself with a great smile, twinkling eyes and a firm handshake.
No fuss, he leads us upstairs to our rooms asking as we go where we are from, it turns out the cleaner and neater of us is from France. Our rooms are alongside each other. They are facing the East with a view of the entrance to the gorge to my left. The room is small but cool, bathroom is clean and a nice size, it looks like it was refitted within the last year or two. As I check the balcony I hear my Gaulish friend ask for a sea view, not tonight our host explains maybe tomorrow night, and it turns out tomorrow night is no good for him as he is only staying the one night. At this Prokopis calls me out and brings us both to the front of the building shows us a balcony where you can sit and enjoy the sea view should you wish. I am quite content with my lot, Prokopis comes back into my room and wants to show me how the telly works; I told him it is okay, no need. I would watch the stars all night here before considering turning on a television.
I take a walk to the nearest market / shop and purchase some washing up powder. And that is how I pass the next half hour, not buying washing powder but using it, I am not weird or anything like that, imagine spending half an hour buying up washing up powder….that could put someone off shopping for life and settling for living smelly.
I am most definitely going to bring less clothes next trip; less to wash. So as I go to hang the wet gear on the balcony I experience something new to me…………CPE………..Clothes Peg Envy. I have just washed about ten items and find I have two clothes pegs while my French neighbour has about 20. It is a bit windy and do not fancy trying to retrieve my clothes from the orange trees below so I double up on the use of the pegs and put my shirts on the back of the chairs shorts on the table. Time for a wander and a beer and a metaxa and perhaps another beer.
Couple of hours later and I am back in my room, check to see that none of my clothes have taken flight, they haven’t. I also see that my neighbour has been busy and must have washed the entire contents of his micro suitcase….I notice somethings that resemble G-strings….okay time to look away now I tell myself…..this is one of those rare times where I listen and take heed of what I have said to myself and look away. I try reading for a bit but my brain is wondering if what I saw were thongs. Okay so I will listen to some loud music so my brain cannot concentrate on any…..odd things, (funny that but I believe if it was ladies underwear it would not rattle around in my brain so much)… and such. I plug in the head phones, hit play on my music list and first up is George Thorogood “Bad to the Bone” that’s a good start, next up is Kansas “Carry on my wayward son” I am feeling good, normal, whatever.
Loud, Very Loud knocking / banging on my door, I am thinking my headphones maybe are not plugged in right so perhaps I am disturbing a neighbour and jump off the bed and open the door.
“I told you we would find you” says Eli.
He is accompanied by Prokopis. To say I am bit shocked is an understatement. Eli wants to check out the rooms in the Samaria, I say I will meet them in the Samaria Restaurant so mein host takes Eli off on a tour while I put on some clothes, no I am not naked but cannot go out to eat in boxer shorts. ( At least I am not wearing whatever was on display elsewhere, if that was the case, which it will never be, I it was the case I would not have answered the door).
Our host had earlier extended an offer to me to have a drink in his taverna later with his compliments; he now extended this to Dorit and Eli, which I thought was very kind, that is in keeping with Cretan hospitality. Sitting now within the Samaria Taverna the four of chatted for a while, Prokopis was born in the old village and had only built his hotel 20 years ago. Prior to that he had kept goats, had a small olive grove and some orange trees. He asked if we intended to walk the gorge and advised that as the weather was still okay, but threatening to change, tomorrow would probably be our best bet for doing so.
We dined at the Samaria and the fare was excellent and very reasonably priced. After the main course the complimentary desert and small bottle of Raki appeared. Just a note on the Raki. The Greek Raki is unlike the Turkish which is aniseed based. The Greek Raki is made from the must of the grapes after the wine making, that is after the juice of the grape has being pressed out the remains; the skin, seeds, pulp are distilled, they say three times, to produce Tsikoudia or Raki. Taste wise it is very like our Poitin and best drank as a shot. If you do not like hard liquor I would say leave your glass untouched as an empty glass usually invites a refill.
I have to say it was a very enjoyable evening, good food, good company and good drink.
We wound up the evening shortly after 10pm and I took a wander down to the quay to listen to the waves for a few minutes and enjoy the big sky ( do not judge the sky on my photographs as I explained previously I am not good at photographing people or night images, I then took a wander through the quietening streets as Dorit & Eli made their way across the beach to their rooms.
I went was back in my room around 11pm and would say that there was only 3 tavernas that still had their lights on. If you like quiet nights this is a place to be.
I wound up the day by sitting on the balcony, sipping a beer, falling in love with that amazing night sky.
The hotel I am staying is the Samaria Hotel which is less than 200 meters from the ferry, straight up.
As the passengers disembark from the ferry I see the people in front fade to the left and to the right until I notice there is just one person walking in front of me, it seems just a tad strange, it is (he is) a young man and here is wheeling what has to be one of the smallest suitcase I have seen along the cobbled road I ask myself why is he not carrying it, if it was a female I would have offered to do so, ( I recall an ex who had a make up bag bigger than it) this case seems so small that I am sure he could manage to get two of them allowed on a flight as hand luggage, I am not too sure how the wheels survived the, though brief, large cobblestoned journey, possibly the reason it did survive was due to the briefness of the trip or / and the smallness of the case, or perhaps the combination of both. He enters the / my Hotel just in front of me, a lady appears who has very little English, she asks us to wait in the lounge while she fetches someone for us who does speak English. The lounge is just to the left as you enter and It is large comfortable room and I can image it being nice and cool on the hotter days.
I nod and say hi to my fellow guest who sits across the table from me, I think he nodded back, I think his eyes might have moved but his hair stayed in place. He appears extra neat, like an American from one of these perfectly cheesy TV shows ( you know the ones where only beautiful people need apply acting skills optional but perfect hair, skin and teeth requisite ), where as I am a bit sweaty, crumbled and creased ( my clothes mostly but a bit of my face as well) and in need of a shave which may, or may not, happen in a day or three; while he appears to be ready to walk onto a photo shoot to sell men's products. No conversation. That’s okay.
A couple of minutes and our host Prokopis arrives. He introduces himself with a great smile, twinkling eyes and a firm handshake.
No fuss, he leads us upstairs to our rooms asking as we go where we are from, it turns out the cleaner and neater of us is from France. Our rooms are alongside each other. They are facing the East with a view of the entrance to the gorge to my left. The room is small but cool, bathroom is clean and a nice size, it looks like it was refitted within the last year or two. As I check the balcony I hear my Gaulish friend ask for a sea view, not tonight our host explains maybe tomorrow night, and it turns out tomorrow night is no good for him as he is only staying the one night. At this Prokopis calls me out and brings us both to the front of the building shows us a balcony where you can sit and enjoy the sea view should you wish. I am quite content with my lot, Prokopis comes back into my room and wants to show me how the telly works; I told him it is okay, no need. I would watch the stars all night here before considering turning on a television.
I take a walk to the nearest market / shop and purchase some washing up powder. And that is how I pass the next half hour, not buying washing powder but using it, I am not weird or anything like that, imagine spending half an hour buying up washing up powder….that could put someone off shopping for life and settling for living smelly.
I am most definitely going to bring less clothes next trip; less to wash. So as I go to hang the wet gear on the balcony I experience something new to me…………CPE………..Clothes Peg Envy. I have just washed about ten items and find I have two clothes pegs while my French neighbour has about 20. It is a bit windy and do not fancy trying to retrieve my clothes from the orange trees below so I double up on the use of the pegs and put my shirts on the back of the chairs shorts on the table. Time for a wander and a beer and a metaxa and perhaps another beer.
Couple of hours later and I am back in my room, check to see that none of my clothes have taken flight, they haven’t. I also see that my neighbour has been busy and must have washed the entire contents of his micro suitcase….I notice somethings that resemble G-strings….okay time to look away now I tell myself…..this is one of those rare times where I listen and take heed of what I have said to myself and look away. I try reading for a bit but my brain is wondering if what I saw were thongs. Okay so I will listen to some loud music so my brain cannot concentrate on any…..odd things, (funny that but I believe if it was ladies underwear it would not rattle around in my brain so much)… and such. I plug in the head phones, hit play on my music list and first up is George Thorogood “Bad to the Bone” that’s a good start, next up is Kansas “Carry on my wayward son” I am feeling good, normal, whatever.
Loud, Very Loud knocking / banging on my door, I am thinking my headphones maybe are not plugged in right so perhaps I am disturbing a neighbour and jump off the bed and open the door.
“I told you we would find you” says Eli.
He is accompanied by Prokopis. To say I am bit shocked is an understatement. Eli wants to check out the rooms in the Samaria, I say I will meet them in the Samaria Restaurant so mein host takes Eli off on a tour while I put on some clothes, no I am not naked but cannot go out to eat in boxer shorts. ( At least I am not wearing whatever was on display elsewhere, if that was the case, which it will never be, I it was the case I would not have answered the door).
Our host had earlier extended an offer to me to have a drink in his taverna later with his compliments; he now extended this to Dorit and Eli, which I thought was very kind, that is in keeping with Cretan hospitality. Sitting now within the Samaria Taverna the four of chatted for a while, Prokopis was born in the old village and had only built his hotel 20 years ago. Prior to that he had kept goats, had a small olive grove and some orange trees. He asked if we intended to walk the gorge and advised that as the weather was still okay, but threatening to change, tomorrow would probably be our best bet for doing so.
We dined at the Samaria and the fare was excellent and very reasonably priced. After the main course the complimentary desert and small bottle of Raki appeared. Just a note on the Raki. The Greek Raki is unlike the Turkish which is aniseed based. The Greek Raki is made from the must of the grapes after the wine making, that is after the juice of the grape has being pressed out the remains; the skin, seeds, pulp are distilled, they say three times, to produce Tsikoudia or Raki. Taste wise it is very like our Poitin and best drank as a shot. If you do not like hard liquor I would say leave your glass untouched as an empty glass usually invites a refill.
I have to say it was a very enjoyable evening, good food, good company and good drink.
We wound up the evening shortly after 10pm and I took a wander down to the quay to listen to the waves for a few minutes and enjoy the big sky ( do not judge the sky on my photographs as I explained previously I am not good at photographing people or night images, I then took a wander through the quietening streets as Dorit & Eli made their way across the beach to their rooms.
I went was back in my room around 11pm and would say that there was only 3 tavernas that still had their lights on. If you like quiet nights this is a place to be.
I wound up the day by sitting on the balcony, sipping a beer, falling in love with that amazing night sky.