(the rest of most of the rest of week one; there is still another day to come)
Day 3. Lazy Day.
Up early enough but decided that today I was going to do as little as possible and take as long as possible to doing it.
Got a bagousta from the bakery & dined out in the harbour. Spent a couple of hours there, got a couple of shots of a kingfisher which I lost, kinda deleted, later I took a wander down to the back of the village past No Camping. Also got some nice photographs of different flowers which like the kingfisher I managed to lose; more on that later.
The day ended as just about every day in Galini seems to end for me, drink, eat, drink, be merry, talk to some people, drink, talk to some other people, tell a fib here listen to others tell fibs, drink a little more and go to sleep sometime between 3 and 5 am.
As it is a lazy day and there is not much to write about I might as well fill a bit of the page with a brief story from a long, long, time ago.
Please sit on the bus Mr. Conlon.
I think that was 96 or 97 I could not get a flight only to Heraklion from Dublin, at least one that was not at an extortionate rate.
So it turned out that I could get a package deal to Malia at an extremely reasonable price. The area did not suit me but that did not matter as I had no intention of staying in Malia. I was addicted to Galini at this stage.
So arrived in Heraklion around midday and immediately sought out the holiday rep, one very pretty girl who was trying very hard not to sweat in midday sun heat that you just had to sweat in. She had lovely smile but appeared nervous ( I believe it was Falcon Holidays who she was working for). I told her that I would not be travelling with them as I was heading elsewhere. Okay Mr. Conlon but would I mind getting on the bus, I repeated I would not be travelling to Malia so would not be getting on the bus.
Her answer to this was “what about the hotel “?
I said what about it, I will not be anywhere near the resort so if you could tell the owner perhaps he may be able to resell it.
This did not seem to fit in with what her training allowed for. “Mr. Conlon” she asked “Would you mind sitting on the bus until I do a head count?” No, I don’t need to do that, just mark me off now. She had her clipboard in her hand and my name was right there, I was in the middle of the casting sheet for the bus.
But what will I tell my supervisor when she asks me why you did not go to your hotel?
Tell her what I said to you that I will not be using the room.
As this conversation was going on people were coming up to her, all happy smiling people, they smiled at her, she smiled at them, I even smiled at them, and they even smiled at me, and she was directing them to the bus, they all got on the bus for her, I guess they were going to go where her training manual told her they should be going.
She told me that this was her first day on her own, there was no supervisor at the airport and would I please get on the bus until she done the head count,. She explained with a near serious look on her face that “I am not meant to tick anyone off until they are seated in the bus”.
This was going on for about 10 minutes now and I felt like telling her that I was not on bus but she was starting to tick me off but I refrained from doing so because she was so nervous.
I smiled at her one last time and walked away her telling her that she was doing great and don't worry about it.
She is probably running Falcon holidays these days.
Got a bagousta from the bakery & dined out in the harbour. Spent a couple of hours there, got a couple of shots of a kingfisher which I lost, kinda deleted, later I took a wander down to the back of the village past No Camping. Also got some nice photographs of different flowers which like the kingfisher I managed to lose; more on that later.
The day ended as just about every day in Galini seems to end for me, drink, eat, drink, be merry, talk to some people, drink, talk to some other people, tell a fib here listen to others tell fibs, drink a little more and go to sleep sometime between 3 and 5 am.
As it is a lazy day and there is not much to write about I might as well fill a bit of the page with a brief story from a long, long, time ago.
Please sit on the bus Mr. Conlon.
I think that was 96 or 97 I could not get a flight only to Heraklion from Dublin, at least one that was not at an extortionate rate.
So it turned out that I could get a package deal to Malia at an extremely reasonable price. The area did not suit me but that did not matter as I had no intention of staying in Malia. I was addicted to Galini at this stage.
So arrived in Heraklion around midday and immediately sought out the holiday rep, one very pretty girl who was trying very hard not to sweat in midday sun heat that you just had to sweat in. She had lovely smile but appeared nervous ( I believe it was Falcon Holidays who she was working for). I told her that I would not be travelling with them as I was heading elsewhere. Okay Mr. Conlon but would I mind getting on the bus, I repeated I would not be travelling to Malia so would not be getting on the bus.
Her answer to this was “what about the hotel “?
I said what about it, I will not be anywhere near the resort so if you could tell the owner perhaps he may be able to resell it.
This did not seem to fit in with what her training allowed for. “Mr. Conlon” she asked “Would you mind sitting on the bus until I do a head count?” No, I don’t need to do that, just mark me off now. She had her clipboard in her hand and my name was right there, I was in the middle of the casting sheet for the bus.
But what will I tell my supervisor when she asks me why you did not go to your hotel?
Tell her what I said to you that I will not be using the room.
As this conversation was going on people were coming up to her, all happy smiling people, they smiled at her, she smiled at them, I even smiled at them, and they even smiled at me, and she was directing them to the bus, they all got on the bus for her, I guess they were going to go where her training manual told her they should be going.
She told me that this was her first day on her own, there was no supervisor at the airport and would I please get on the bus until she done the head count,. She explained with a near serious look on her face that “I am not meant to tick anyone off until they are seated in the bus”.
This was going on for about 10 minutes now and I felt like telling her that I was not on bus but she was starting to tick me off but I refrained from doing so because she was so nervous.
I smiled at her one last time and walked away her telling her that she was doing great and don't worry about it.
She is probably running Falcon holidays these days.
Day 4. Wedding Day.
Wedding Day: This is the day two people get married, usually any ways.
Of these two people, internet shy so no names, we will call them Hanno the Navigator and the Naughty Scottish Lady or Hanno and NSL for short. One is from England the other from Scotland, they live in Wales and are getting wed in Greece. The best man is Dutch, the bridesmaid German, the wedding organiser is Irish (not me) and the officiator is Greek so at least someone appears to be where they were meant to be; that being the Greek person in Greece. So an average day really.
So once upon a time, a long, long time ago; about 22 years from what I hear.
Hanno meets NSL, Hanno say `Hi` NSL does not run away. Then some things happen like Falung Gong, some married guy called Bill is linked to a Monica with a funny name, there is Beyonce and all the single ladies, the iPod, Harry Potter, lots of other bits and bobs and somewhere in there I met them.
So fast forward say 17 years and we possibly have a conversation that could, but probably did not, go like this:
Hanno: I want to ask you three questions, is that okay?
NSL: Okay.
Hanno:
1) If he knew the answer was 42 why did he not just tell us and why spend so much time writing a trilogy of 5 books?
2) Do you know where my sandpaper is?
3) Would you like to be buried with my people?
(I am guessing on this last question)
NSL: I can’t help you with the first two but the last sounds quite interesting so we should talk about it.
Or she could have said:
1) What the hell are you talking about….42?
2) As for you sandpaper you probably wore it out.
3) The last sounds interesting and we can talk about it however I am assuming the burying comes after we’re dead which I am also hoping is not any time soon ?
So here we are about 5 years later and a wedding is happening. ( I wonder if he ever found his sandpaper).
We have English & Scottish, Highlanders, Lowlanders and even borderers, there is German, Dutch, people wearing shoes and trousers who do not usually wear shoes and trousers, there is an American (in disguise as a person wearing a wig), Greeks, Irish and even a stray Welsh woman. It is a motley crew but that’s okay.
It was a lovely ceremony, though I missed out on the part where they asked if anyone objected, I am not saying I would have objected but it would have been nice to be asked. That’s the Greeks, English & Scottish for you, not giving us Irish a chance to get a word in, it is a good thing I am quiet otherwise I would not be…..quiet that is.
Ian and later Stefan played a number each on the guitar which was nice, not to each other mind you but to the bride and groom. Ian is the son of the groom and Stefan is not.
After the ceremony there was a champagne reception or as in Allan’s case and mine ( and a couple of others) a Mythos reception and then down to Madame Hortense for the meal. The meal, all of which was fantastic, was cooked by George who is not from Kokkinos Pirgos but a Galini Boy true and true ( so his wife says). We had an interval where Sandy & No Shoes played a duet of duets. There was a cake that got cut and then some people proceeded to say some nice things to and about other people, fortunately there was no microphone so we got to hear very little of it, this was okay as we could continue drinking and just had to clap when everyone else clapped. While I know someone after reading this is going to feel like saying we are sorry you could not hear, don’t apologise, I wish more microphones would go missing during weddings.
Alas the free food and wine came to an end around 11:30 and we had to fall down a few steps to Zorbas.
I have to say the location,the venue, it’s layout, the quality of the food, the staff and even most of the music…..all fantastic. The Restaurant is on the second floor with an open front and side overlooking the harbour and bay with a similar layout to the bar directly below on the first floor.
My memory tends to fade somewhat after the first 2 – 3 drinks, I never know whether is a good thing or a bad thing but I can continue on for another dozen of so more depending on the company, circumstances, mood, age etc etc... Don’t get me wrong I am by no means inebriated after the 2 - 3 drinks just my memory decides it is going to bed early. Several people over time, mostly of the opposite sex, have told me I have a selective memory, I do not. If that was the case I would forget a lot of things that I cannot seem to forget and recall some great nights that I know I had but barring the beginning and being told how good they were the following day cannot remember. Anyway because of the openness of the bar, the good music provided by Luke, the great company, I managed to dance from about midnight until the final jig behind the bar with Vicky at around 5.30 am, staying on my feet, consuming the requisite amount of distilled / fermented liquids and then walk home.
Of these two people, internet shy so no names, we will call them Hanno the Navigator and the Naughty Scottish Lady or Hanno and NSL for short. One is from England the other from Scotland, they live in Wales and are getting wed in Greece. The best man is Dutch, the bridesmaid German, the wedding organiser is Irish (not me) and the officiator is Greek so at least someone appears to be where they were meant to be; that being the Greek person in Greece. So an average day really.
So once upon a time, a long, long time ago; about 22 years from what I hear.
Hanno meets NSL, Hanno say `Hi` NSL does not run away. Then some things happen like Falung Gong, some married guy called Bill is linked to a Monica with a funny name, there is Beyonce and all the single ladies, the iPod, Harry Potter, lots of other bits and bobs and somewhere in there I met them.
So fast forward say 17 years and we possibly have a conversation that could, but probably did not, go like this:
Hanno: I want to ask you three questions, is that okay?
NSL: Okay.
Hanno:
1) If he knew the answer was 42 why did he not just tell us and why spend so much time writing a trilogy of 5 books?
2) Do you know where my sandpaper is?
3) Would you like to be buried with my people?
(I am guessing on this last question)
NSL: I can’t help you with the first two but the last sounds quite interesting so we should talk about it.
Or she could have said:
1) What the hell are you talking about….42?
2) As for you sandpaper you probably wore it out.
3) The last sounds interesting and we can talk about it however I am assuming the burying comes after we’re dead which I am also hoping is not any time soon ?
So here we are about 5 years later and a wedding is happening. ( I wonder if he ever found his sandpaper).
We have English & Scottish, Highlanders, Lowlanders and even borderers, there is German, Dutch, people wearing shoes and trousers who do not usually wear shoes and trousers, there is an American (in disguise as a person wearing a wig), Greeks, Irish and even a stray Welsh woman. It is a motley crew but that’s okay.
It was a lovely ceremony, though I missed out on the part where they asked if anyone objected, I am not saying I would have objected but it would have been nice to be asked. That’s the Greeks, English & Scottish for you, not giving us Irish a chance to get a word in, it is a good thing I am quiet otherwise I would not be…..quiet that is.
Ian and later Stefan played a number each on the guitar which was nice, not to each other mind you but to the bride and groom. Ian is the son of the groom and Stefan is not.
After the ceremony there was a champagne reception or as in Allan’s case and mine ( and a couple of others) a Mythos reception and then down to Madame Hortense for the meal. The meal, all of which was fantastic, was cooked by George who is not from Kokkinos Pirgos but a Galini Boy true and true ( so his wife says). We had an interval where Sandy & No Shoes played a duet of duets. There was a cake that got cut and then some people proceeded to say some nice things to and about other people, fortunately there was no microphone so we got to hear very little of it, this was okay as we could continue drinking and just had to clap when everyone else clapped. While I know someone after reading this is going to feel like saying we are sorry you could not hear, don’t apologise, I wish more microphones would go missing during weddings.
Alas the free food and wine came to an end around 11:30 and we had to fall down a few steps to Zorbas.
I have to say the location,the venue, it’s layout, the quality of the food, the staff and even most of the music…..all fantastic. The Restaurant is on the second floor with an open front and side overlooking the harbour and bay with a similar layout to the bar directly below on the first floor.
My memory tends to fade somewhat after the first 2 – 3 drinks, I never know whether is a good thing or a bad thing but I can continue on for another dozen of so more depending on the company, circumstances, mood, age etc etc... Don’t get me wrong I am by no means inebriated after the 2 - 3 drinks just my memory decides it is going to bed early. Several people over time, mostly of the opposite sex, have told me I have a selective memory, I do not. If that was the case I would forget a lot of things that I cannot seem to forget and recall some great nights that I know I had but barring the beginning and being told how good they were the following day cannot remember. Anyway because of the openness of the bar, the good music provided by Luke, the great company, I managed to dance from about midnight until the final jig behind the bar with Vicky at around 5.30 am, staying on my feet, consuming the requisite amount of distilled / fermented liquids and then walk home.
As you can gather from the video while those on dancing shows are not quaking in their pom poms I think we did alright: It was about 5am, there was a about a bucket of beer drank as well as a gallon of wine or so, a gin and tonic or two, definitely a raki or three and maybe even a Metaxa in there; and that was just Vicky, I might have had a drink or two myself.
I want to thank you both for a fantastic day and night. Xxx
Day. 5 Lazy Day 2.
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Up by noon. Bakery - Bagousta - Harbour.
Met up with John & Corrina, I dropped over to Tropicana in the early afternoon and it was rather fortuitous that I did so. They were both having their last lunch in the village before heading for the airport and home. It was nice to catch up and I did promise to call up to see them in Dublin sometime: So at this stage I am probably meant to visit; England, The Netherlands, Dublin, Tel Aviv & Crete next year. I cannot see all that happening; however I do so want to spend a long weekend cycling in The Netherlands and for some reason, known only to people who have ever being there, feel I have to return to Crete. Later that evening there was a live Greek music and food night in the harbour. There was great atmosphere and it was very enjoyable; do not judge by my photographs: I do not like photographing People & I cannot seem to get night photography right. As I have a long drive and walk ahead of me tomorrow I decide to have an early night so went to bed around 3 am. |
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Day. 6 Agia Galini - Loutro - Lykos
What a day.
Got up shortly after ten, ante meridiem that is, done a quick pack and ran down to Eleni for my passport and also to pay her, very considerate of me, I know. I confirmed that I would returning in 5 days times but could not give her a time and it could, possibly, be very late as in 11 pm. Apparently she was going to be in Rethymnon on Thursday so I told her if I knew what room it was she could leave the key in the door. She explained that if she could leave me in the same room she might do this but do look for her husband, even though he has no English it would be sorted. So away we go.
The drive was straight forward enough and with no stops should take about 2 hours. It took me 2 hours 50 minutes, but that is me.
First stop was Kourtaliotiko Gorge, you can see from the images why. It is renowned for the amount of birds of prey that can be seen riding the thermals high above it. While the distance is too great for my camera I still enjoy watching them.
Realising at this stage that I was heading to two places that have no cash machines and having paid my room bill in Galini I am low on funds so am going to have to take a detour into Plakias to raid the bank, at least my account anyways. So after the smash and grab I decide that rather than head back to the main road I would take the shorter route….which as it happens turned out to be the longer route. I head up to the village of Selia and just my luck they are working on what I take is the main road and seem to have half of it closed off. So I head into the small streets of the village via a small hill, small but bloody steep, the car, being only a 1lt, I took a run at it, the bloody hill might be small but I do not know if I ever came as close to driving vertical in my life, WOW, Wow, wow. As I have to shove her down into first I am not really nervous just bloody nervous. I get to the top and find a car parked directly in my path. Now anyone familiar with Greek mountain villages will tell you that the side streets allow for two donkeys and no more to pass each other, if a third donkey happens to come along it just has to wait its turn. Neither the car, such as it was, parked in the street, and the 1lt four wheeled silver yolk I was in would pass for a donkey. I could not believe I was going to have to reverse down this evil kenevil hill again, driving up was bad enough but reversing down, I genuinely thought I was going to tip over. Well I am here now writing this, still with most of my bits and bobs, so you can gather I didn`t do any somersaults.
Looking back on it I should have got out and asked the workmen if it was possible to head up via the road they were working on, I would nearly guarantee, I would possibly put somebody else money on it, that they would have said no problem. However just as I am contemplating this a Pickup and large 4x4 start to come down that road and I am in their way so have to do a U turn and head back down to Plakias. What the hell.
A Lovely straight bit of road.
Half an hour later and I am back in Selia, but on the main road this time. The quality of the road to here, and even for the remainder of the journey, is very good, it is as good as any secondary road in Ireland. However while the surface is good there are the turns and twists, and hills with twisty turns and when you do not have them you have turny hills with twists. Every time you went around a turn it was you like I kept landing on the snake square in Snakes and Ladders. Okay I exaggerate; but the hours drive from Plakias to Hora Skafion does have it fair share of bends and it possibly seemed a bit longer due to the fact that I could not figure out how to work out the volume control on the radio.
So there I am concentrating on the road, full focus on each curve…..oh lovely I think here is a straight bit of road coming up, I can see nearly half a kilometre ahead, it is amazing, so I relax for a second and put on the radio to help pass the time, LOUD, LOUD, LOUD GREEK MUSIC, cannot find the volume…change stations…..LOUDER, MUCH LOUDER GREEK MUSIC.. Quickly change station and again, this time we have VERY LOUD ALBANIAN MUSIC… no no I tell myself that is good old fashioned VERY LOUD GREEK MUSIC. Okay radio off, possibly for the best as at this stage as the straight bit of road was coming to an end. I would possibly have enjoyed that straight bit more if some music had not distracted me...I wonder whose idea it was to put on the radio. As for the engineer who laid out that straight piece of road I image he got a telling off: Where do think you are working? In the north of Crete? We like our twists and turns and hilly bits here in the South you want your straight, flat boring bits of road mister you can go work in the North of the island or perhaps even go to Australia.
So about an hour from leaving Plakias ( the second time) I arrive in Hora Sfakion. Before I go on though I have to say the scenery on the drive here is fabulous, I have to get into the habit of stopping more often. Still just another reason to come back here. I arrived in the village shortly after 1:30 which I was happy enough with. And it was a good thing I was content with the time as I was stuck with it being a fact. I had hoped to use the car park on the right as you enter the village however the one spot that was available was on the corner outside the bakery which I thought would be a bit too busy for the 5 days I was leaving the car so I head towards the port. There was not that many spaces available however I did find one after a couple of minutes and went into the village to grab a well needed coffee and omelette.
I had not stopped here in about 9 / 10 years and the first thing you become aware of as you walk along the restaurants is the touting. It does not happen in Galini and I may be wrong but am not aware of it occurring in most places along the South coast. I stopped in the restaurant of Hotel Lefka Ori as they were the first not to ask me in. Food was simple and nice, the coffee was needed and done the trick so twenty minutes later I am starting to feel good about myself so now I decided on a small shandy. What the hell the coffee was black so I told myself I needed the sugar in the beer for energy. So after another 20, minutes not shandies, later I pay the bill and head back to the car to saddle up.
Back at the car I pack a change of clothes and some bits and pieces into my rucksack, two litres of water, hip flask and I am ready good to go. I leave the rest of my belongings, which if I had planned on leaving in Galini but me and plans rarely agree, in the boot of the car, take a photograph of where I am parked inn case my memory fails me and say goodbye to the car. In case you are wondering the car does not answer, it is like when I talk to the rocks they don’t answer either. I blame Clint Eastwood for talking to trees years ago for putting the idea in my head. Then again trees are organic while not all rocks are organic, maybe, just maybe I am chatting to the wrong rocks. Or then again maybe the ones I talk to look upon me as dumb and human & think why should they answer me. Who knows; I don’t.
I set off about a quarter after 3 in the afternoon. The temperature was about 28 / 30 but there was a gentle breeze so it seemed a bit cooler which was nice. I was really looking forward to the walk and it did not disappoint. I had parked in the far harbour so the first 2.5 km are on asphalt, you head back into the village between the restaurants and the hotels, turn right at the Hotel Lefka Ori and after a minute you will see a hand painted sign for Loutro where you climb onto a bit of scrub and there you are on the main asphalt road. For the next 2km there is a fairly continuous but steady rise in the road until come to the sign for Sweetwater Beach, you are more likely to spot the parked cars lining the side of the road before seeing the sign.
From here on you are on the track / path to Loutro or as in my case past it to Lykos Bay. I had about 8km to go. I do not believe my descriptive powers can do justice to the walk so for the most part I will rely on the photographs to tell the tale. For about a kilometre you are gently descending on a path that varies between dirt and stone until you arrive on Sweetwater Beach. The path itself is not very challenging however you have to mind your footing as you are walking along the side of cliff, the sea beckons beneath you, and there is no shade. Sweetwater Beach gets it’s name from the fact that if you dig on the beach you will find fresh water from the springs not far beneath the surface. Instead of digging I opted for the Taverna that is built on the rocks. I decided that the shandy I had back in Sfakion needed a friend so introduced him to another, did not bother with anything to eat as I was not too far from my destination and truth be told I eat very little when walking in Crete. Most likely combinations of the heat and the fact that you are constantly drinking water probably lowers the desire / want for food. While I have often found myself hungry at home especially when you are working and forget to eat I rarely recall approaching a village after a day out walking and thinking I need food, a drink….well that is a different story.
Got up shortly after ten, ante meridiem that is, done a quick pack and ran down to Eleni for my passport and also to pay her, very considerate of me, I know. I confirmed that I would returning in 5 days times but could not give her a time and it could, possibly, be very late as in 11 pm. Apparently she was going to be in Rethymnon on Thursday so I told her if I knew what room it was she could leave the key in the door. She explained that if she could leave me in the same room she might do this but do look for her husband, even though he has no English it would be sorted. So away we go.
The drive was straight forward enough and with no stops should take about 2 hours. It took me 2 hours 50 minutes, but that is me.
First stop was Kourtaliotiko Gorge, you can see from the images why. It is renowned for the amount of birds of prey that can be seen riding the thermals high above it. While the distance is too great for my camera I still enjoy watching them.
Realising at this stage that I was heading to two places that have no cash machines and having paid my room bill in Galini I am low on funds so am going to have to take a detour into Plakias to raid the bank, at least my account anyways. So after the smash and grab I decide that rather than head back to the main road I would take the shorter route….which as it happens turned out to be the longer route. I head up to the village of Selia and just my luck they are working on what I take is the main road and seem to have half of it closed off. So I head into the small streets of the village via a small hill, small but bloody steep, the car, being only a 1lt, I took a run at it, the bloody hill might be small but I do not know if I ever came as close to driving vertical in my life, WOW, Wow, wow. As I have to shove her down into first I am not really nervous just bloody nervous. I get to the top and find a car parked directly in my path. Now anyone familiar with Greek mountain villages will tell you that the side streets allow for two donkeys and no more to pass each other, if a third donkey happens to come along it just has to wait its turn. Neither the car, such as it was, parked in the street, and the 1lt four wheeled silver yolk I was in would pass for a donkey. I could not believe I was going to have to reverse down this evil kenevil hill again, driving up was bad enough but reversing down, I genuinely thought I was going to tip over. Well I am here now writing this, still with most of my bits and bobs, so you can gather I didn`t do any somersaults.
Looking back on it I should have got out and asked the workmen if it was possible to head up via the road they were working on, I would nearly guarantee, I would possibly put somebody else money on it, that they would have said no problem. However just as I am contemplating this a Pickup and large 4x4 start to come down that road and I am in their way so have to do a U turn and head back down to Plakias. What the hell.
A Lovely straight bit of road.
Half an hour later and I am back in Selia, but on the main road this time. The quality of the road to here, and even for the remainder of the journey, is very good, it is as good as any secondary road in Ireland. However while the surface is good there are the turns and twists, and hills with twisty turns and when you do not have them you have turny hills with twists. Every time you went around a turn it was you like I kept landing on the snake square in Snakes and Ladders. Okay I exaggerate; but the hours drive from Plakias to Hora Skafion does have it fair share of bends and it possibly seemed a bit longer due to the fact that I could not figure out how to work out the volume control on the radio.
So there I am concentrating on the road, full focus on each curve…..oh lovely I think here is a straight bit of road coming up, I can see nearly half a kilometre ahead, it is amazing, so I relax for a second and put on the radio to help pass the time, LOUD, LOUD, LOUD GREEK MUSIC, cannot find the volume…change stations…..LOUDER, MUCH LOUDER GREEK MUSIC.. Quickly change station and again, this time we have VERY LOUD ALBANIAN MUSIC… no no I tell myself that is good old fashioned VERY LOUD GREEK MUSIC. Okay radio off, possibly for the best as at this stage as the straight bit of road was coming to an end. I would possibly have enjoyed that straight bit more if some music had not distracted me...I wonder whose idea it was to put on the radio. As for the engineer who laid out that straight piece of road I image he got a telling off: Where do think you are working? In the north of Crete? We like our twists and turns and hilly bits here in the South you want your straight, flat boring bits of road mister you can go work in the North of the island or perhaps even go to Australia.
So about an hour from leaving Plakias ( the second time) I arrive in Hora Sfakion. Before I go on though I have to say the scenery on the drive here is fabulous, I have to get into the habit of stopping more often. Still just another reason to come back here. I arrived in the village shortly after 1:30 which I was happy enough with. And it was a good thing I was content with the time as I was stuck with it being a fact. I had hoped to use the car park on the right as you enter the village however the one spot that was available was on the corner outside the bakery which I thought would be a bit too busy for the 5 days I was leaving the car so I head towards the port. There was not that many spaces available however I did find one after a couple of minutes and went into the village to grab a well needed coffee and omelette.
I had not stopped here in about 9 / 10 years and the first thing you become aware of as you walk along the restaurants is the touting. It does not happen in Galini and I may be wrong but am not aware of it occurring in most places along the South coast. I stopped in the restaurant of Hotel Lefka Ori as they were the first not to ask me in. Food was simple and nice, the coffee was needed and done the trick so twenty minutes later I am starting to feel good about myself so now I decided on a small shandy. What the hell the coffee was black so I told myself I needed the sugar in the beer for energy. So after another 20, minutes not shandies, later I pay the bill and head back to the car to saddle up.
Back at the car I pack a change of clothes and some bits and pieces into my rucksack, two litres of water, hip flask and I am ready good to go. I leave the rest of my belongings, which if I had planned on leaving in Galini but me and plans rarely agree, in the boot of the car, take a photograph of where I am parked inn case my memory fails me and say goodbye to the car. In case you are wondering the car does not answer, it is like when I talk to the rocks they don’t answer either. I blame Clint Eastwood for talking to trees years ago for putting the idea in my head. Then again trees are organic while not all rocks are organic, maybe, just maybe I am chatting to the wrong rocks. Or then again maybe the ones I talk to look upon me as dumb and human & think why should they answer me. Who knows; I don’t.
I set off about a quarter after 3 in the afternoon. The temperature was about 28 / 30 but there was a gentle breeze so it seemed a bit cooler which was nice. I was really looking forward to the walk and it did not disappoint. I had parked in the far harbour so the first 2.5 km are on asphalt, you head back into the village between the restaurants and the hotels, turn right at the Hotel Lefka Ori and after a minute you will see a hand painted sign for Loutro where you climb onto a bit of scrub and there you are on the main asphalt road. For the next 2km there is a fairly continuous but steady rise in the road until come to the sign for Sweetwater Beach, you are more likely to spot the parked cars lining the side of the road before seeing the sign.
From here on you are on the track / path to Loutro or as in my case past it to Lykos Bay. I had about 8km to go. I do not believe my descriptive powers can do justice to the walk so for the most part I will rely on the photographs to tell the tale. For about a kilometre you are gently descending on a path that varies between dirt and stone until you arrive on Sweetwater Beach. The path itself is not very challenging however you have to mind your footing as you are walking along the side of cliff, the sea beckons beneath you, and there is no shade. Sweetwater Beach gets it’s name from the fact that if you dig on the beach you will find fresh water from the springs not far beneath the surface. Instead of digging I opted for the Taverna that is built on the rocks. I decided that the shandy I had back in Sfakion needed a friend so introduced him to another, did not bother with anything to eat as I was not too far from my destination and truth be told I eat very little when walking in Crete. Most likely combinations of the heat and the fact that you are constantly drinking water probably lowers the desire / want for food. While I have often found myself hungry at home especially when you are working and forget to eat I rarely recall approaching a village after a day out walking and thinking I need food, a drink….well that is a different story.
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Falling in love with something big.
From Sweetwater Beach it is a dirt trail to Loutro with the exception of a small pebble / gravel beach section and it is about an hours walk. Again I think the photographs will do the trail more justice than my grammar could. As you can see from the images there are several small groups of people on the trail, after Sweetwater most of these bodies are heading in the same direction as myself while on the descent from the road to the beach most were heading in the opposite direction. I was keeping an eye on footwear, not a fetish thing or anything like that, but if you walk trails, gorges in Crete you do tend to look at what people are wearing, most especially on their feet. I would say that it was a fairly even split between walking shoes and hiking boots the exception being one young couple whom I met coming from Loutro heading to Sweetwater, they both were wearing flip flops and he was carrying a small blown up shark. An hours walk on a dirt trail in flip flops with baby jaws under your arm…...oh for the joys of youth. I have always favoured boots ever since my first descent of the Samaria gorge in or around 1991 I am now giving my North Face hiking boots their swan song performance on this Cretan stage. I have them nearly 5 years and am really going to miss them, I have slipped and nearly Elvised it by nearly stumbling and falling in them but always got up without damage to my ankle and put that down to the boots more so than my own pig headed resilience. So Lourto is reached around 6 pm. I stop here to give the old limbs a rest and take one, two and then three tinctures from the hip flask, amazing I have not stepped on this waterfront in ten years and yet it seems like a few months back. I could reach Lykos in 12 / 15 minutes if I take path behind the village and past the Turkish fort but as I still have plenty of daylight I opt for the slightly longer route around the headland as I recall enjoying this walk several years back. So about 6.30 I reach my rooms which are called Smallparadise in Lykos bay. I introduced myself to whom I think is the Pappa of the family, he calls out one of the ladies from the kitchen and I am shown to my room by……………..an Irish woman. Enough said. The room Eleni showed me to was nice and cool with an ocean view, the sound of waves lapping on the stone beach beneath a large private balcony, over head a small canopy of salt trees with the first stars beginning to put in an appearance. Twilight………... heaven………...amazing I had a quick shower lay on the bed took a sip of Metaxa from the flask and thought………..I have to do that walk again. The truth be told I was pretty tired, however within half an hour I was in the restaurant and felt so refreshed that I decided that night I was going to walk the Aradena tomorrow. I have told some people, possibly friends and perhaps a drunk or two in a bar, that in my life I am lucky enough to have fallen in love twice, I have heard tell that some people never know the feeling, not even once, many years ago the first time was with a woman………...that is a story not for telling .…...the second time was with an entire Island. I cannot truly describe what Crete means to me and I really doubt most others whom have similar inclinations could describe or convey it in so much as love itself cannot be described. Okay I am obviously getting wishy washy, tipsy and tired so time to sign off on today have another drink or three and listen to some waves beneath an amazing starry sky. I wonder if I snore much these days????/ |
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