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Published: July 21st 2013
Mountains of Crete
Millennia of erosion, compared to the Rocky MountainAfter breakfast we drove across Crete to the south coast. The terrain constantly reminded me of Crete’s famous history of fierce resistance to all invaders – somewhat futilely from a strategic point of view as they were repeatedly conquered. The deep folds of the mountains were thick with trees, bushes and weedy ground-cover, thus provided endless places to hide and sneak around. This vegetation generally rose up to about a third of the height of the rocky mountains, although further south some mountains were covered in green. Presumably much of this burns off in the summer.
Traditionally the mountain villages formed because people wanted to be completely out of sight of pirates and invaders from the sea. They beat off the elite of Germany’s paratroopers by hiding in bushes and caves only to pop out at the last minute to slay the men with bamboo staves, farm implements and ancient guns. We stopped in Spili (meaning cave), now a peaceful town with tourist shops. Where I finally found a hand-made Cretan rug as I wished for. Cotton, but the woman selling them assured me it wouldn’t shrink ever. “I was big,” she motioned, “with my son when I bought my
Mountain valley
Imagine the partisans in the hills through the history of Crete! rug. He is now thirteen and never is the rug smaller – washed many times!” €20, “last year’s price, this year €25. I give it to you for last year’s price.” The design in coral and white is Minoan dolphins, reversible.
Our next stop was the Cretan Ethnological Museum, once a winner of the EU prize for best museum – and deservedly so! Like the other ethnological museum, only on a larger scale, they have collected items of everyday use. Highlights were the handloom (set up to make a rig like mine!), plain and celebratory decorative baskets, farm and household implements, and woven cloths in bright red. Of note were the old guns, now illegal to be owned individually, but Kriton estimates that every mountain household has at least one, although most now refrain from shooting them in the air at weddings and other parties.
A short stroll from the museum, Kriton gathered us at an outdoor café and ordered “sweet fruit” served with water as a snack. This consisted of a fig, two cherries and a slice of orange peel preserved in honey and syrup. Stunningly sweet but a great pick-me-up. Afterwards, Mary wanted to check out
Folkloric Museum
Festive baskets, in particuar for weddings the bakery, and I was still trying to find the raisin pastry we sampled at the potter’s, so I joined her. We thought possibly it was one of those on display and asked for two – the baker gave them to us for free! Perhaps they were too light to weigh because they were actually shortbread cookies.
Reinvigorated, we drove for a while to Phaistos (or Festos), the next biggest Minoan palace after Knossos, only a third of its size. Plus, our Greek geography/history instructor in Heraklion told us that an ancient landslide buried almost half of it. A park-like entrance led us down to the ruins of walls in the now familiar pattern of central court, storage rooms, ceremonial rooms and residential rooms. Nothing has been fancifully restored here, only some stabilization applied using the same concrete approach as Evens used in Knossos, but avoiding placing weight on ancient stones. To my amazement, the large storage jars remaining area all original, still too heavy to move about unnecessarily. Sally helped me by taking my photo with the remnants of stone walls in the background, as I was holding Crescent View, for our community newsletter.
A
Phaistos Old Palace
Easy to imagine ourselves moving through this ancient site little further on, the great Messara Plain opened up from the mountains. Greenhouses full of tomato plants were everywhere, it seemed. This is why we can have the equivalent of a couple of tomatoes in every portion of Greek salad. A third of Greek olives are grown here, as well as lots of vegetables. The Plain is very fertile, sheltered by the mountains in the north, and facing the sun in the south. The road wound dramatically around the edges of the mountains, finally descending onto the Plain and ending at Matala, a seaside resort town.
We were on our own for lunch. Nancy, John and I wanted to go swimming in the Lybian Sea, so we wanted something quick to eat; and, Mary and Jean joined us. Probably not so quick because the meals were large. Mine was roast chicken and tiny okras cooked with tomatoes in olive oil, over-cooked as usual, with Greek vegetables, and incredibly salty. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the view of the beach, working out how to proceed.
Which was to change in the single cabana provided for this purpose, walk over the hot, black sand to an unoccupied spot, deposit our plastic bags,
Messara Plain
Huge, wide valley where the fresh vegetables are grown for much of Greece and go in. Very cold! Almost as cold as the swimming pool in Santorini. But beautiful, clear aquamarine water. Very salty and buoyant. Spectacularly sheltered by a sandstone cliff pock-marked with caves of every size. Hippies used to live in them in the sixties and seventies; Nancy saw posters for a reunion this summer! We paddled for a while and then walked along the beach to dry off because we didn’t have towels. Thoroughly refreshed, we went back on the bus to return to Heraklion. The terrain wasn’t quite as wild as before lunch – more farms, fields, villages and roads. Same twisting rise up though, for spectacular views.
We drove straight to the port and the huge overnight ferry to Piraeus, the port for Athens. We were so early that we had to wait for the 6:00 boarding time. Our cabins were relatively spacious with every fitting. We all met each other exploring the top, outdoors deck where it was very windy although not terribly cold. Nevertheless, the drinking-types moved into the sheltered bar for beer (me) and nuts. The others left after a while to go indoors, but I preferred to stay in the fresher air. At
Matala
Our only swim, in cold water on a hote day 8:00 I took a (generic) Dramamine to stave off the effects of our 9:00 departure. At 8:30 we met for dinner in the formal dining room with attentive waiter service. Our first course was risotto, but since I couldn’t eat that I had rice with frozen mixed vegetables and a couple of spoonfuls of tomato sauce – very mediocre and too plentiful. The main course was tasty but overcooked pork souvlaki, french fries and more frozen mixed vegetables. Very strange. Dessert was good – slices of watermelon and kiwi.
Someone remarked that I looked “loopy”. I tottered off to bed, falling asleep almost immediately and not waking really until the 5:30 a.m. arrival at Piraeus.
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Isabel Gibson
non-member comment
Baskets!
I swear, every culture makes baskets: Inuit, Navajo, Vietnamese, and now Cretans. I bet there's a whole line of study on their comparative anatomy. Great post!