Thor and I are continuing our new Greek islands trip, and I’ll start a new blog series soon. Meanwhile, a glimpse of my first backpacking journey to Crete.
My very first Mediterranean beach destination involved some rattletrap bus rides, cheerful misdirections, and a 3-hour stumble in the deepening dusk down a rocky cliffside trail carrying a heavy backpack. More than a journey through the rugged Cretan landscape, it was a trip through time—way back to the Minoans or Keftiu, the later Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Venetians, and Turks, and finally the World War II German invasion only an eyeblink earlier in history.
The expansive island of Crete was the home to the 99 fabled cities of the ancient Minoans (or Keftiu), where King Minos built the labyrinth to contain the bull-headed Minotaur, the offspring of a sacred white bull and Minos’s wife (more about that in Part 1). Loutro (Greek for “Bath” because of the ancient bathing ruins fed by springs in the area) on the wild southern coast was once a port called Phoenix by the later Romans. After the Romans it was the base for Saracen pirates, then occupied by the Venetians and their shipping empire. The Turks later conquered the island, until finally Crete reasserted independence, was joined to Greece, and was occupied by the Germans during World War II.
Many of the fiercely proud Cretans still praise the Resistance fighters and have an uneasy truce with the hordes of German tourists we encountered at the major tourist sites. Loutro was rumored to be way off the beaten track away from the crowds, and indeed it was, with no roads and accessible only by rough trail down the mountains or by boat.
At the top of the cliff where the bus dropped my partner Jim and me, a flock of curious young boys surrounded me, touching my pale skin and hair and exclaiming over our hiking gear. They pointed the way toward the trail down to Loutro, which was difficult to follow in the rocky, scrubby terrain. A shepherd in the authentic Cretan garb of baggy pants, knee-high boots to protect against the thorny vegetation, and a tasseled head-scarf directed us back on track and recommended the Phoenix taverna at the cove. We finally reached the edge of the cliff and looked down, and then down, to the white alphabet-blocks of the tiny village nestled against the deep-blue sea. After a few spills on the steeply switchbacked trail, we staggered into the Phoenix for a meal of excellent kalamata olives, feta cheese, and tomatoes. In the dark, we found a reasonably flat spot on a deserted headland and pitched our tent, drank in a dose of sharp stars, and collapsed into sleep. (Oh, for those young bones that could sleep on stony ground and carry a huge pack.)
From my journal:
We wake to the sounds of clanking, tinkling bells and look out the tent window to see goats clambering all over our campsite. A sunny morning with the threat of storm hanging over the harbor in dark clouds that cover the top of the cliff we descended last night. Good thing I didn’t look over the edge of the trail then. I climb out of the tent to look over the cove. Ti aurea! (How beautiful!) Sunshine reveals the cove’s blue depths and gradations of color, with jagged rocks below clearly visible in the amazing clarity. The countryside is dry, bare, and broken rock, with only sharp thistle-brush and a few tiny wildflowers. Only the ubiquitous goats seem to find it easy to ramble here.
Needless to say, Thor and I are having a rather different sort of adventure on Crete, though just as magical. Stay tuned for more!
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You will find The Rambling Writer’s blog posts here every Saturday. Sara’s latest novel from Book View Cafe is available in print and ebook: The Ariadne Connection. It’s a near-future thriller set in the Greek islands. “Technology triggers a deadly new plague. Can a healer find the cure?” The novel has received the Chanticleer Global Thriller Grand Prize and the Cygnus Award for Speculative Fiction. Sara has recently returned from another research trip in Greece and is back at work on the sequel, The Ariadne Disconnect. Sign up for her quarterly email newsletter at www.sarastamey.com
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