Ancient Athens and Cyclades - Crete, Sunday 2011 May 1

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This is May Dayin Europe. Our schedule today has been changed to the inverse of what should have been on May 3, because the scheduled sites are closed today. We didn’t mind. On our way out of town, we saw a few signs and banners ready for May Day marching. Not much.

After an hour driving through the countryside on the north coast of Crete, we stopped at a gas station rest-stop – to gather flowers! And not only us – lots of people were there picking the abundant wild daisies and other “weeds”. As a rite of spring, people make a wreath of wild flowers to hang outside the door of their houses. Our driver came equipped with a branch twisted into a wreath-shape and cello tape. As Kriton and some of us gathered flowers, the driver and later John, twisted and taped the flowers onto the ring. Quite charming! The driver installed the wreath on the dash of the bus.

The landscape along the highway was dramatic. The road circled around the hills and mountains and through valleys. Initially the land was relatively dry, with olive fields. Great vistas of the sea and snow on Mount Ida came into view and were whisked away by the next turn. As we rode further west, the land became more treed – not exactly woodland, for the trees looked like they were planted at some time. Most of the land was under cover of bushes and flowers. A developing haze turned the distant hills and coastal rocks blue; Kriton commented that the haze was sand from the Sahara. Certainly for once we were really warm, even though the wind blew very strong, definitely from the south.

In Rethymnon town for a couple of hours, we shopped in its medieval streets before lunch. Everything medieval in Crete is from the Venetian era; the Venetians established many of the towns, although some were where towns already existed, such as Heraklion. The shopping bug hit me, and I fell into the temptation of buying two olive-wood spatulas/spoons – they are so good for cooking and I always worry the two I bought in Siena will break or something. Then I fell into scarf temptation, suddenly seeing one with many subdued colours. When one of the other participants urged me to ask where it was made, “India”, was the answer – and indeed when I really looked, the owner and the shop’s name were both Indian.

For lunch we stopped at an Italian restaurant in a principle square – by a Venetian fountain (not spectacular). I had fried calamari – very tender and tasty.

After lunch we drove to Gavalchori, a small traditional village in the mountains to see an ethnographic museum. Our itinerary had promised embroidery and lace-making demonstrations, which didn’t materialize. A traditional home had been turned into a lovely small museum showing traditional items. The first room displayed hand-made lace: doilies, edgings for hand-woven silk runners, and cloths, and a wedding dress. Kriton told us these had been donated by people who were “ashamed” of donating things that were old and “almost worn out”. In other rooms were old guns, knives, cooking and farming implements, etc. The house itself was a “display item”, because it showed how all the rooms faced the sunny courtyard where the life of the family went on, made safe by the blank walls onto the street. Family was all. This was one of the villages that in WWII waged fierce resistance to the German army.

In a nearby, small square a restaurant was setting up for a great family/community dinner in celebration of May Day. Some people were already eating – the same appetizers we receive – and the musicians were warming up.

The handicraft shop for museum products was open. After seeing the lace made in Bratislava last year, these items seemed not really worth the price. Some of it was crochet which I do myself. The woman running the shop good-naturedly demonstrated her lace-making for those of us who were interested. This is the only shop I have seen that had rugs, but the designs didn’t have what I thought were Greek symbols, especially the camels! She told me they were made in a factory in the north of Greece. Not too authentic there either, probably.

A short drive later, we stopped at the Souda Bay cemetery for the Commonwealth soldiers killed in the defense of Crete in the famous battle of WWII in 1941. Kriton had said they were American soldiers, the only real error he has made; they were mainly British, Australian and New Zealanders, and a few Canadians. Very sad.

Another short drive and we were at a park surrounding the grave of Venizelos , the revered first independent Prime Minister (1905). And it is a photo-stop, sited high on a cliff overlooking Chania. Unfortunately, this day the dust/haze obscured the view. Plus, we all were tired and Kriton has the “common cold”. So we drove to the Kydon Hotel in Chania for a snooze and dinner.

The woman serving the dinner was friendly and charming. She was shocked when we couldn’t eat all the delicious green beans in olive oil and tomatoes that constituted the first course – each person received a plate that would have served four! We did better with the quarter-chicken and rice. (All Greek vegetables and rice are cooked too soft for my taste.) Then she brought out her own homemade baklava, she said in honour of Jean whose birthday it was. Jean bought wine for everyone, which is how we found out.

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Photos

Marching on May Day
Very small demonstrations in 2011; by 2013 things had changed!

Venetian fountain
One corner of a local square

Outside the Folkloric Museum
Family life happens in the courtyard; village life happens in the neighbourhood square.

Souda Bay
Serene and serious graveyard

President Venizelos
Grave overlooking Chania

Stone jars
An outside display at the small museum in Gavalochori

17 century courtyard
Museum in Gavalochori is in a traditional house.

Comments

[Isabel Gibson]

Spoons, scarves and squid(s?)
Nice shots (again!) - and the link to Souda Bay info is great as well. How did I know that it would have an improbably colourful kingfisher featured near the end?