I had long wished to explore Mount Athos, but between bad weather and Juan’s never-ending complains, in the end I reluctantly accepted Crete as an alternative destination for our winter trek. At Piraeus we had chosen the shipping company that best matched our cause (read: the cheapest one) and finally, in another freezing Athenian night, we boarded a half deserted ferry. Tourists were non-existent. Greek islands shut down with the departure of the last holidaymakers in October not to reopen until April next year, but this I only came to understand in the following weeks. Meanwhile, we were travelling undisturbed, comfortably sleeping between rows of seats, lulled by the monotony of the engines and with the whole vessel virtually ours. Crete has become over the years a mass tourist destination for two reasons: its beaches on
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