The only difficulty in getting the rented car was having to hitchhike to the nearest town (22 km) to make the arrangements, without yet being certain that we would get it. But we made the trip in two rides. There was no hassle. We got a little Nissan manual shift.
So we made for the remaining planned sites: Aghia Triada and Phaestos.
View from Phaestos. The valley would have been just as productive in Minoan times.
The Phaestos Disk
We relaxed for a day, catching up on sleep, then engaging in nothing more strenuous than writing, sipping kafe hellenikos, and enjoying the beaches. Aghios Pavlos can only be reached by a winding mountain road, and the coast here is rough, with only an occasional cove. There is perpetual wind, a blessing in the Cretan heat, but the hotel must keep baskets of rocks even in the office, to hold down papers, and tablecloths are clamped to tables. The beaches are civilized (i.e., clothing optional) and have only a few bathers at a time. Coves are separated by geologically interesting and visually pleasing rock formations. Read more »
The pebbles and thorns made “sleep” into a constant cycle of drifting off, then waking to remove a sharp rock poking into my ribs, or to remove a thorn that had worked its way through my sleeping bag and into my flesh. I got my revenge on Filip by snoring loudly when I did manage to sleep, ruining his sleep.
It was a tough but scenic climb up to Thrypti. Once above the cliffs, which were resplendent with great caverns, crags, and even a spectacular stone arch over empty air, were came into pine forest, and a long snaking mountain road that could have been in the Canadian Rockies. This took the better part of the morning. Read more »
The north shore of Crete, especially around Mallia, is the most depressing part. While the land and seascapes are beautiful, the coast is stuffed with beach resorts overflowing with tacky tourist business, and seems to have been taken over by the Russian Mafia to sell furs. The signs of the immense fur emporia are always in Russian, occasionally in English, never in Greek. Why anyone would come to Crete to buy a fur coat baffles me. Wearing fur in this climate would kill you. Thankfully, the bus took us well past this vulgarity and we turned inland into the broad valley that forms the “neck” separating East Crete from the rest of the island. Read more »
photos taken at Knossos:
Looking smug — finally at Knossos, after a lifetime of longing.
We spent the night sleeping fitfully on the deck of the Olympic Champion, and docked at Iraklion at dawn. The first bus to Knossos would not depart for a while, so we spent the early morning walking in the center of the city, which still has its Venetian wall intact. Ottoman rule seems to have left little architectural influence on the city, but the centuries of Italian rule clearly did. There was also a nice early Byzantine church. Over the centuries, it had been converted to a mosque, then to a Catholic church, then restored to the Orthodox rite. Very simple in plan, it quite nicely preserves the origins of the Christian church in the Roman municipal office building (basilica). Read more »
Temple of Haephestos
The first things we noticed about Athens were the unmistakable signs of a police state. Cops everywhere, in gear more appropriate to an invading army, sometimes toting machine guns. Parked near the University, and around Syntagma Square, were the riot wagons — sinister armoured buses full of gas masks (clearly visible through the slit windows) and god knows what dissent-crushing tools. On a back street, we found a home-made monument to a sixteen-year-old shot by the cops. The city is dirty and run down. The Metro is closed “for repairs”, but actually for a strike. Most people look like they’re grudgingly marking time rather than planning for the future. I saw more ragged people, addicts openly plunging needles into their flesh, and desperate-looking young men than I’ve seen in any European city. Read more »
Filip Marek
