Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Selective memories
Mirthios and Plakias have changed over the last thirty years, as you would expect, and mostly the changes are good. People seem better off than when I was here before, though whether that applies right now with the government's austerity measures, I don't know. The new houses and hotels aren't hideous, except the awful Hapimag complex at the once beautiful beach of Damnoni. The rest of the beaches all seem as magnificent as they always were, and not yet full of beach umbrellas for the summer. Here's my favourite, Souda:
There were no buildings at all when I was last here, and now there are plenty, but they have stayed back from the beach.
I went walking on another series of beaches yesterday - four that are connected by tracks - and as I walked over a particularly spiky and rather arduous section of path between the first and second beaches, I was full of admiration for young Karen who bounded over these tracks. Once I got to the next one though I realised that of course I had never actually been as far along as the first beach - I just went to any one of the other three, which had a much easier path.
My memory has been selective on other walking tracks too - I know I went up the local high point Timeo Stavros, so thought I should do it again for old times sake and the best view of the region. I cursed as I slogged up, having no recall of how steep a climb it was. The view was still spectacular though, even though I didn't quite make it to the top this time (making use of the Solomon Islands' belief of the sacredness of mountain tops comes in handy when you get tired).
The other memory blank I have is of the steep climb from Plakias by the sea back up to Mirthios. I used to go up and down here all the time - how could I forget it was so steep! Not helped I think by being concreted now, while before at least there were a few bends on the path through the olive trees and a lot more shade.
Some things I do still remember - the old youth hostel building is still there though no longer used as such. It was my home for two winters, and freezing cold it was too when it snowed. It's the upper storey in the photo - downstairs was the taverna where I had to drink lots of brandy to stay warm. The three doors on the far left are the outside loos and the cold water shower.
This time I am in my comfy studio, with ensuite, and wifi access and enjoying much better food. I'm sad I can't bring back Plakias honey and Sellia yoghurt, so I am trying to eat as much as possible now.
I don't recognise anyone from the old days and I'm not going looking! I went to the cemetery and only found a couple of names I knew. I'm enjoying creating new memories, but I can appreciate why this place has been in my memory for so long.
There were no buildings at all when I was last here, and now there are plenty, but they have stayed back from the beach.
I went walking on another series of beaches yesterday - four that are connected by tracks - and as I walked over a particularly spiky and rather arduous section of path between the first and second beaches, I was full of admiration for young Karen who bounded over these tracks. Once I got to the next one though I realised that of course I had never actually been as far along as the first beach - I just went to any one of the other three, which had a much easier path.
My memory has been selective on other walking tracks too - I know I went up the local high point Timeo Stavros, so thought I should do it again for old times sake and the best view of the region. I cursed as I slogged up, having no recall of how steep a climb it was. The view was still spectacular though, even though I didn't quite make it to the top this time (making use of the Solomon Islands' belief of the sacredness of mountain tops comes in handy when you get tired).
The other memory blank I have is of the steep climb from Plakias by the sea back up to Mirthios. I used to go up and down here all the time - how could I forget it was so steep! Not helped I think by being concreted now, while before at least there were a few bends on the path through the olive trees and a lot more shade.
Some things I do still remember - the old youth hostel building is still there though no longer used as such. It was my home for two winters, and freezing cold it was too when it snowed. It's the upper storey in the photo - downstairs was the taverna where I had to drink lots of brandy to stay warm. The three doors on the far left are the outside loos and the cold water shower.
This time I am in my comfy studio, with ensuite, and wifi access and enjoying much better food. I'm sad I can't bring back Plakias honey and Sellia yoghurt, so I am trying to eat as much as possible now.
I don't recognise anyone from the old days and I'm not going looking! I went to the cemetery and only found a couple of names I knew. I'm enjoying creating new memories, but I can appreciate why this place has been in my memory for so long.
Monday, April 23, 2012
View from my window - Mirthios
OK so here's the view from my window - actually balcony - at Mirthios. And I wonder why I wanted to come back after thirty years:
Friday, April 20, 2012
To the far east of Crete
Last day in Sougia was lovely - a walk along the cliffs to the east for a couple of hours, followed by second breakfast at one of the cafes on the waterfront that had internet; lots of time to read and plan where to go next. Since the weather, namely the wind, is not going to get any better I'm heading for another place I didn't quite get to last time I was in Crete - Sitia in Eastern Crete and the Minoan palace of Zakros.
So on Wednesday a bus turned up at last. The friendly French family that has been stranded here since I arrived were very relieved as their flight was that evening. Everyday they had packed up and gone to the wharf at 9.30 in the morning to wait for the boat and every morning it didn't come because of the wind. Then I would see them in the cafe and say "oh no, still here?" (in French of course) and they would shrug and say "there is no escape from Sougia!"
We left Sougia in the pouring rain - the stoic English couple got off at Aghia Irini to walk back through the downpours via the gorge. From there, I overdosed on buses, taking three to get to the small town of Sitia. And now I must gloat for here is the view from the balcony of my hotel:
It's still off season so rates are low in case people think I am being too self indulgent. Sitia is a sweet little town - very relaxed and easy to get around. From here I've been doing trips out to the countryside - it's not spectacular like the west but it's still rocky and hilly - just a lot more farms and beaches.
Today I walked down the Gorge of the Dead to reach Kato Zakros. It was yet another wonderful gorge walk, with the sound of goat bells from high up the cliffs, and a river that disappeared and then reappeared later as springs. The track is fantastically well marked because of a local man who maintains the signs. It's called Gorge of the Dead because there were Minoan burials in the caves.
All along this area there are patches of purple schist which makes it look like the paths and rocks are stained with grape juice. Lovely matching patches of flowering thyme too.
At the end of the gorge after a couple of hours, I emerged at Kato Zakros (lower Zakros to distinguish it from Zakros, up in the hills at the start of the gorge) and had my reward - second breakfast at the beach:
Then I walked around Minoan Zakros palace and town site just a little bit inland. It's sited so it could be a centre for trade with Egypt and it was very easy to imagine the boats arriving at the bay where I had had breakfast. The town has narrow streets and steps and must have looked similar to the older parts of Cretan villages where there are still narrow lanes between the houses.
So on Wednesday a bus turned up at last. The friendly French family that has been stranded here since I arrived were very relieved as their flight was that evening. Everyday they had packed up and gone to the wharf at 9.30 in the morning to wait for the boat and every morning it didn't come because of the wind. Then I would see them in the cafe and say "oh no, still here?" (in French of course) and they would shrug and say "there is no escape from Sougia!"
We left Sougia in the pouring rain - the stoic English couple got off at Aghia Irini to walk back through the downpours via the gorge. From there, I overdosed on buses, taking three to get to the small town of Sitia. And now I must gloat for here is the view from the balcony of my hotel:
It's still off season so rates are low in case people think I am being too self indulgent. Sitia is a sweet little town - very relaxed and easy to get around. From here I've been doing trips out to the countryside - it's not spectacular like the west but it's still rocky and hilly - just a lot more farms and beaches.
Today I walked down the Gorge of the Dead to reach Kato Zakros. It was yet another wonderful gorge walk, with the sound of goat bells from high up the cliffs, and a river that disappeared and then reappeared later as springs. The track is fantastically well marked because of a local man who maintains the signs. It's called Gorge of the Dead because there were Minoan burials in the caves.
All along this area there are patches of purple schist which makes it look like the paths and rocks are stained with grape juice. Lovely matching patches of flowering thyme too.
At the end of the gorge after a couple of hours, I emerged at Kato Zakros (lower Zakros to distinguish it from Zakros, up in the hills at the start of the gorge) and had my reward - second breakfast at the beach:
Then I walked around Minoan Zakros palace and town site just a little bit inland. It's sited so it could be a centre for trade with Egypt and it was very easy to imagine the boats arriving at the bay where I had had breakfast. The town has narrow streets and steps and must have looked similar to the older parts of Cretan villages where there are still narrow lanes between the houses.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Still stuck in Sougia
Maybe the tiny south western Crete village of Sougia wasn't the smartest place to go to for Greek Easter, when the buses stop and the spring winds keep the ferry boats away for days at a time. I am wondering why I left Paleochora with its three buses a day, plenty of walks, car hire even. Of course Sougia's appeal is its isolation and the fact that not many people go there.
Getting here was hard enough - I had planned to do it the easy way with the ferry boat from Paleochora. All the Sougia passengers are waiting at the wharf at 9am, the boat turns up, but then won't let us on board. They reckon they can't land at Sougia because of the rough sea. Now at this point I could have decided to stay in Paleochora with its three buses a day, or even gone back to Chania with buses galore, but because there is a path I decided to walk it.
It's a beautiful route, along the sea, a smallish hill to climb then descend to the site of ancient Lissos, another little up and then down through a gorge to Sougia. Simple. Alas, at this point I discovered that what I read and what it feels like to actually do it with a slightly too heavy pack are two different things. This is also when I discover a major difference between the tracks of Crete and those in Aotearoa: Cretan paths are very stony and the rocks all seem to be sharp and pointed, so by the end of a day's walking my feet felt bruised. The walking is also very exposed, on hillsides with little more than prickly groundcovers among the rocks.
And what looks like a simple short up is actually a long slog when you are not used to it. However, the views did make up for some of it - and there is no way I would have experienced this on the boat.
That was Friday and since then I have been in Sougia where the last bus left Friday about two hours before I arrived and there hasn't been a single boat. We were told the Monday bus was cancelled because of Easter, so the next bus is Wednesday, though one did turn up out of the blue today (Monday) but none of us were ready to take it and it left 5 minutes later.
Sougia luckily is quite a delightful place, though once you have walked to one end of the beach and back there is not much else to walk to. So back to the cafe with wifi for another pot of tea.
Here's most of Sougia - it is easy to get in one photo:
I'm staying in a largely empty pension and the family who owned it have been giving me food every time I walk by, as they have been feasting over Easter. Before midnight on Saturday it was all vegetarian - best dolmades I have ever had made by Soula - and then after church at midnight it was a feast of lamb shanks. I can't face lamb at midnight at the best of times so gave it a miss, but the now legless lamb was spit roasted the next day, along with a lot of beer drunk. Unfortunately I developed a stomach bug so wasn't able to partake of much - which felt like a tragic waste of the poor wee lamb.
Today I went for a walk in the Agia Irini gorge, a nice gentle downhill shaded by pine trees, but with some impressive rock falls from the cliffs above. I met a lamb that had escaped Easter in the gorge:
So now I have run out of places to go and we are waiting to hear if there is a bus tomorrow or if it's Wednesday. Not sure what I will do tomorrow - I tell myself I have to do more 'being' rather than 'doing', but it is not really my nature. Relax? By a beach? with six cafes to choose from? Where's my guided historical sites tour with every minute filled in when I needed it?
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Trying to slow down in Chania
I've been in Chania five days now and I am starting to get the hang of sitting in cafes and taking life a little slower. For the first four days I walked furiously, anxious to see as much as I could of the town and the nearby countryside, but today, at last, I started to realise that life is not always about doing.
Chania is quite a lovely town sited on a harbour, with Venetian walls and a Turkish mosque. There are cafes everywhere: snazzy ones with comfy seats on the waterfront - good for rest with a book but the coffee is expensive; and back street ones with wooden chairs where the food is great and afterwards they give you raki and sweet pastries for free. Away from the souvenir shops and Easter holidaymakers there are quiet, old streets.
Around Chania was the main battleground for the invasion of Crete in 1941, which left so many New Zealanders stranded in the mountains, some for up to two years. I haven't wanted to go to Souda where the war cemetery is - being the professional mourner that I am, I would spend at least a day sobbing over the graves. But I did go to Galatas, as that was a victory of sorts and New Zealanders are well remembered there, with the flag in the local cafe. Getting off the bus straight in front of me was a street name:
It means roughly "street of the New Zealand warriors". I'm trying not to be nationalistic and pro war here, but it is still good to see this and to know that the Cretan people have something positive to associate with New Zealand during all the other horrors of the German invasion. The NZ government of course didn't think it important enough to pay the full cost of some of the remaining veterans attending the latest 70th anniversary ceremonies at Galatas last year. Here's a link if you want to know more about Galatas: http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/war/the-battle-for-crete/the-battle-day-4-6
The highlight of my time in this area was the walk to Polyrrhenia, near Kastelli. This is an old fortress and the major settlement here from early Minoan to Roman times. There are remnants of the temples and cemeteries on the hillside, and at the top of the hill is an acropolis, or hill fort. It has an amazing setting on a rocky hill with a small steep gorge alongside. And, best of all when it is cold and raining as it was the day I went there, the village nearby has a cafe run by an English woman where you can warm back up again. Walking back down again was definitely easier after tea and biscuits! On the way back I passed a classic Greek village name sign with an impressive array of bullet marks:
Tomorrow I'm heading south at last to Paleochora for a day and then to Sougia for Greek Easter. I'm hoping the ferry boats are going, otherwise I have to walk 5 hours to Sougia and my bag is still a little too heavy.
Chania is quite a lovely town sited on a harbour, with Venetian walls and a Turkish mosque. There are cafes everywhere: snazzy ones with comfy seats on the waterfront - good for rest with a book but the coffee is expensive; and back street ones with wooden chairs where the food is great and afterwards they give you raki and sweet pastries for free. Away from the souvenir shops and Easter holidaymakers there are quiet, old streets.
Around Chania was the main battleground for the invasion of Crete in 1941, which left so many New Zealanders stranded in the mountains, some for up to two years. I haven't wanted to go to Souda where the war cemetery is - being the professional mourner that I am, I would spend at least a day sobbing over the graves. But I did go to Galatas, as that was a victory of sorts and New Zealanders are well remembered there, with the flag in the local cafe. Getting off the bus straight in front of me was a street name:
It means roughly "street of the New Zealand warriors". I'm trying not to be nationalistic and pro war here, but it is still good to see this and to know that the Cretan people have something positive to associate with New Zealand during all the other horrors of the German invasion. The NZ government of course didn't think it important enough to pay the full cost of some of the remaining veterans attending the latest 70th anniversary ceremonies at Galatas last year. Here's a link if you want to know more about Galatas: http://www.nzhistory.net.nz/war/the-battle-for-crete/the-battle-day-4-6
The highlight of my time in this area was the walk to Polyrrhenia, near Kastelli. This is an old fortress and the major settlement here from early Minoan to Roman times. There are remnants of the temples and cemeteries on the hillside, and at the top of the hill is an acropolis, or hill fort. It has an amazing setting on a rocky hill with a small steep gorge alongside. And, best of all when it is cold and raining as it was the day I went there, the village nearby has a cafe run by an English woman where you can warm back up again. Walking back down again was definitely easier after tea and biscuits! On the way back I passed a classic Greek village name sign with an impressive array of bullet marks:
Tomorrow I'm heading south at last to Paleochora for a day and then to Sougia for Greek Easter. I'm hoping the ferry boats are going, otherwise I have to walk 5 hours to Sougia and my bag is still a little too heavy.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Return to Crete
Returning to Crete was a little harder than I expected. Strong winds delayed the flight from Athens, but eventually after some shouting from the Cretans we were allowed to proceed.
Emotionally it's strange. I feel like I am laying old ghosts to rest, returning to Crete with more ability to do what I want, and staying on my own terms. I feel respectful of the younger Karen who had such a great adventure and was able to get by on so little money, making the most of opportunities that came up. I also know that I don't want to relive the past and I want to get to the places, like the White mountains, that circumstances prevented me reaching before.
Rethymnon feels familiar at times then I turn down an alley way and get lost again. The cafes are flasher and there are far more of them. Some of the souvenirs still look the same - I saw my old backgammon set design is still for sale. The traditional embroidery has nearly vanished, replaced with machine made pieces, so my two thirty year old pieces are more precious.
Outside my window is an old mosque, part of Turkey that is still here:
There is an archaeological museum in town which has some Minoan sarcophagi - they seem very joyful after the classical Greek ones I saw in Istanbul that were hideously brutal in their carvings of battle and hunting scenes. The Minoans, much earlier, seem to have had a happier outlook on life perhaps:
Today I joined a small walking tour and headed out into the countryside. Everything is lush and green, with native orchids and other wildflowers blooming madly along the tracks, and wild white cyclamen in the shade. One of the most colourful is the small Cretan iris:
Tomorrow to new places - Chania and the far west.
Emotionally it's strange. I feel like I am laying old ghosts to rest, returning to Crete with more ability to do what I want, and staying on my own terms. I feel respectful of the younger Karen who had such a great adventure and was able to get by on so little money, making the most of opportunities that came up. I also know that I don't want to relive the past and I want to get to the places, like the White mountains, that circumstances prevented me reaching before.
Rethymnon feels familiar at times then I turn down an alley way and get lost again. The cafes are flasher and there are far more of them. Some of the souvenirs still look the same - I saw my old backgammon set design is still for sale. The traditional embroidery has nearly vanished, replaced with machine made pieces, so my two thirty year old pieces are more precious.
Outside my window is an old mosque, part of Turkey that is still here:
There is an archaeological museum in town which has some Minoan sarcophagi - they seem very joyful after the classical Greek ones I saw in Istanbul that were hideously brutal in their carvings of battle and hunting scenes. The Minoans, much earlier, seem to have had a happier outlook on life perhaps:
Today I joined a small walking tour and headed out into the countryside. Everything is lush and green, with native orchids and other wildflowers blooming madly along the tracks, and wild white cyclamen in the shade. One of the most colourful is the small Cretan iris:
Tomorrow to new places - Chania and the far west.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Leaving Turkey
So it's my last night in Istanbul and Turkey. The muezzin is calling and a cruise ship has just departed, making three loud calls as it went. Istanbul has been exhausting - I thought it was jet lag when I was here before but now I think it is just the city. There are so many people, both tourists and locals, and the pace of the city is fast. If you are strolling along a footpath, three Turkish men with cellphones clamped to their ears will be rushing past, and the only safe way to cross a road I have discovered is to wait until a local is crossing and go with them.
There's a heavy police presence in the evenings with armoured vehicles and the police carry automatic rifles. Last time I was here, we left on the day of Kurdish riots, and there were smashed up bus stops from a previous day's riot as well.
There are moments of calm in the madness: stops for chai and Turkish coffee; a rest on a seat in the Hippodrome; leaning on the Galata bridge watching the boats on the Bosphorus. Shopping is actually quite a slow process too. Buying a long sleeved walking shirt, I was offered a cup of tea to drink while some different sizes were found. I can't imagine that in NZ. Even buying a cheap ring for my daughter involved a conversation and some gentle haggling.
Food continues to be a highlight. The buttons on my trousers are still tight because breakfast at my hotel is a feast every morning with yoghurt, tomato, cucumber, cheese, several types of bread, pancakes, omelette, fruit... Then there's baklava and meze for snacks through the day, until it is time for dinner. I have just had my best meal in Istanbul at the Anatolia Cafe after finding it on Trip Advisor: (http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g293974-d2105735-Reviews-Istanbul_anatolia_cafe_and_restaurant-Istanbul.html) It was truly as good as they say! I met two friendly women from Chicago there as well so the company was good also.
In between eating I went to museums, got lost, cruised the Bosphorus, and at last packed my bag ready to leave tomorrow. Turkey has been much better than I expected and I can already see the beginnings of a return itinerary.
There's a heavy police presence in the evenings with armoured vehicles and the police carry automatic rifles. Last time I was here, we left on the day of Kurdish riots, and there were smashed up bus stops from a previous day's riot as well.
There are moments of calm in the madness: stops for chai and Turkish coffee; a rest on a seat in the Hippodrome; leaning on the Galata bridge watching the boats on the Bosphorus. Shopping is actually quite a slow process too. Buying a long sleeved walking shirt, I was offered a cup of tea to drink while some different sizes were found. I can't imagine that in NZ. Even buying a cheap ring for my daughter involved a conversation and some gentle haggling.
Food continues to be a highlight. The buttons on my trousers are still tight because breakfast at my hotel is a feast every morning with yoghurt, tomato, cucumber, cheese, several types of bread, pancakes, omelette, fruit... Then there's baklava and meze for snacks through the day, until it is time for dinner. I have just had my best meal in Istanbul at the Anatolia Cafe after finding it on Trip Advisor: (http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g293974-d2105735-Reviews-Istanbul_anatolia_cafe_and_restaurant-Istanbul.html) It was truly as good as they say! I met two friendly women from Chicago there as well so the company was good also.
In between eating I went to museums, got lost, cruised the Bosphorus, and at last packed my bag ready to leave tomorrow. Turkey has been much better than I expected and I can already see the beginnings of a return itinerary.
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