Island hopping

Hello all! I am writing this entry from the rooftop bar of our hostel in Heraklion, Crete, where Gary and I are sitting and relaxing while the street below bustles with action as the locals sit down to their dinner at 10.30pm. The increasingly familiar sound of Komboloi beads (worry beads) is drifting up with the warm breeze, only barely distinguishable above the voices and laughter of the diners. It is amazing how loud the locals speak here! To foreigners it may appear, due to their agitated tone and volume, that they are engaged in a fierce argument of sorts, when in fact they are more likely to be making a general comment about the weather or how relaxing their day was. This recount of the day’s happenings would inevitably make reference to their mornings, where they sat around drinking coffee and talking, their lunchtimes, where they consumed more coffee and chatted, their afternoon siesta, then their early evening coffee where sitting, they conversed, and caught up with old friends who they hadn’t seen since lunchtime! Go figure why they need the worry beads!


Over the past week Gary and I have travelled south through the Peleponnese, and explored the contrasting, yet equally beautiful islands of Kythira and Crete. Kythira was an unspoilt island paradise, where rugged mountains roll down to secluded white sandy beaches and crystal clear turquoise water that teems with an abundance of sea life - the best I have seen thus far in the Med. It was made all the more special thanks to the presence of Gary’s parents, who knew the island like the back of their hand, and proudly showed off the place where Gary’s Grandparents had once lived, tending sheep and harvesting olives. We visited the place where they used to reside, a property running down from a height of a few hundred metres, all the way to the coast and a little pebbly beach. A small, largely decrepit dwelling stood on the property, as did a good number of mature olive trees, that hadn’t been tended to in decades. Oh and did I mention that the property now potentially belongs to Gary’s family? Nice spot for a little holiday house if I do say so myself!


At 4am, after 3 days on Kythira, Gary and I departed on a ferry bound for Crete, some 4 hours away. On Crete, we ran into a mate of ours, Ian, who we had met in the Peleponnese a week earlier. We also introduced ourselves to a lovely group of Dutch sisters, who accompanied Ian, Gary and I across the island for the next few days. We visited Hania, a beautiful old Venetian port town, Samaria Gorge (the longest in Europe), and the beautiful cliff-lined beaches of the south coast.

On one of our many bus rides together around the island, we had a bit of a run in with the bus driver, who had given me strict instruction while getting on the bus to not eat, drink or smoke throughout the duration of the trip. Easy enough advice, which I proceeded to pass on to my fellow travellers, who of course chose to ignore this advice. Coke cans were cracked open, and the pizza slices and bread rolls that had just been purchased from the bakery were consumed in great volume. All was going smoothly until Lilly, the youngest of the Dutch sisters, dropped her can of coke on the floor of the bus, spraying all the passengers sitting in the back half of the vehicle. The bus driver went mad! He pulled the bus over in the middle of the highway, stormed up the back and proceeded to yell at the lot of us for failing to follow his simple instructions. Gary played innocent, pretending not to have consumed any food, yet failing to realize he was still chewing when answering the bus driver’s questions. All food was confiscated, except for one water bottle, which Lilly had managed to hide in her handbag. Only minutes later, while attempting to consume this water, she dropped the bottle, and it rolled down the length of the bus, stopping only thanks to a bag which hung from a passengers seat and prevented the projectile from rolling right into the bus drivers lap. Miraculously the driver didn’t notice the averted disaster, despite being bemused by the hordes of hysterical laughter from the group of us at the back of the bus. A day later, we said goodbye to the girls, who jumped on a bus to head off to Santorini a few days ahead of us. To their horror, the bus driver was the same mad one who had confiscated all their food that eventful day.


Before I go I must quickly make mention of the howling northerly (close to the strongest wind I have ever experienced) whipping up seas over the past few days here on Crete. This afternoon in Heraklion there were 3ft sets hitting a number of little reef breaks and beachies along the coast. It’s enough to drive a wave deprived surfer mad. Looking forward to hitting the beaches back home in a month or so!

Cheers,

Matt.