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Published: August 6th 2007
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We got up late today. Greek people have a different sense of time. They have a kind of siesta at 2pm when most of the shops close. They eat dinner very, very late. 9.30pm is peak hour in town. By then, all the little kids are up playing in the park and, a little later, all the older mums and dads are dining out in the inumerable restaurants that dominate the towns. We are slowly getting into synch with this way of life, so we were up walking the wall of the old venetian harbour till after 1am last night - hence the late rising.
We were feeling a little touched by the sun after lounging by the beach yesterday so we decided to head to the cool of the mountains today. It was a great day.
The drive out to Therisso (the place recommended by the car hire company) was very pretty. We wound our way through a gorge accompanied by a herd of goats. There were trees lining the route which looked suspiciously like liquid ambers - perfect shade for the early summer sun. It didn't take long to reach the town and when we got there,
A whiter shade of pale
The road slowly disintegrates before our eyes Therisso
didn't look like much so we decided to push on.
The road on the map changed colour at this point. We weren't sure what this meant, however we supposed that the white indicated a lower priority road. A few kilometres into the trip we discovered the significance of the white. Apparently it indicates the colour of your face when you realise that you cannot turn around and retreat from the crumbling one way hair-pin bends that drop over 1000 metres just a few inches to your right.
Of course, we made it through the white road to reach the relative safety of the colour red. By this time, we were determined never to venture from the red road again. The next town was Voules (I think that was the name) and here we came to an unmarked fork in the route. Thankfully, we soon passed an orange grove where a couple of farmers were picking fruit. They didn't speak English, but managed to communicate with sign language - something about the road coming to an abrupt end. Good news for us. Bad news for the tourists in the four wheel drive ahead that misunderstood and kept going.
The farmers tried to shout out at them to stop but to no avail. When we turned around, the farmers reached out and gave us a few fresh oranges to reward our good sense. A kind of Greek farmer merit award.
Anyway, after a pleasant lunch of lamb stewed in wine and some fresh bread, we decided to make our way to the famous "Samaria Gorge" of Crete. This is a popular hiking route where you can hike from the snowy peaks of Crete's mountains, through a huge chasm and down to the ocean. The track takes about six hours usually, so we knew there would not be time to complete the walk, but we wanted to at least see what all the fuss was about.
It was certainly dramatic, in a kind of harsh, bleak landscape sort of way. There is lots of rock and the hikers we met on the route (mostly French people with Nordic walking poles on walking tours) said that the scenery stayed pretty much the same all the way to the coast, so we're glad we only hiked in for 30 minutes or so. The air was crisp, but still sunny
and the snow was clearly evident still on the peaks.
Tonight we had a romantic dinner by the old harbour. It was lovely. We were tucked away from the usual hordes of tourists and the food was great (we sussed it out last night when we noticed that all the Greek people were at that end of the harbour away from the main tourist centre). While we ate, we enjoyed a beautiful sunset and watched an endless parade of calico cats stroll by the tables. There seems to be an inordinate number of calico cats here. I'm particularly struck by this because just before we left, I taught the film "Wag the Dog" to my Year 10 class (it's a political satire) and there is an ongoing gag in the film about a calico cat from Albania. I now see why the cat had to be calico.
Speaking of dogs and cats, we've also been struck by the friendly nature of the dogs in Greece. In every town we've visited, there have been local identity dogs who seem to have claimed a little part of Greece for themselves. In Athens, the same two dogs chased cars at the
Syntagma every day. Here in Chania, there is a ridiculously fat dog who waddles between the tourists at the harbour. There is also a cute little white thing that rolls over as you pass by and pleads to be rubbed. The funniest dogs are the three amigos who sit beside each other at the old harbour and look really really bored. They all seem well fed and cared for, and we have yet to see a vicious Greek dog. It must be something about the Greek life-style that lets the animals do whatever they choose without anyone trying to impose any kind of regulation on their lifestyle. It seems like a nice way to be.
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JohnO
non-member comment
on my way
Crete looks stunning: the roads (the white ones), the walking track, the ambience. I'm on my way! really enjoying your blog, and you take great photos!