Elounda Island, Maria and the village of Kritsa
Sunday 10Th September 2006
Up at Christ on a bike o clock with a shitty hangover, to have a dribbly breakfast of coffee, juice and some discontinued Kellogg's cereal. There was no let up in the windy weather, and we were feeling hot and thirsty all the way to Rethymno, which is a mercifully short journey.
Bumped into lefteris in Rethymno, round by the hospital, perhaps touting for trade in an as yet uncharted accommodation market - it was nice he recognised us though. We camped at the fountain taverna in the centre and watered ourselves whilst trying to summon the energy to get excited about eating or continuing our journey. Luckily our seating was right out almost in the street so there was plenty to keep us occupied.
We left for the Lemon Tree around 12 but found it shut so, having relinquished a perfectly good seat slunk back to the fountain. Dinner was crap, as was our not being able to get a taxi at the harbour - you need to pre book it would seem. So we embarked on a sweaty high speed route march round the headland to the bus station, where the bus was late and almost impossible to find in the usual chaos.
We got to Iraklio quickly and decided to treat ourselves to a taxi from the bus station to Elounda - there is a sign board there so all prices are set, which might make them a smidgen more pricey but ensures a guaranteed cost at the end. The taxi driver had not heard of Elounda island, and looked suitably unimpressed as we drove over the wave washed causeway and dodged cavernous pot holes on the track to the Villas. Thankfully, all our travails were forgotten when we booked in. Ilias told us that unfortunately he only had a four bed apartment left, so would that be OK? Well, for the same price, the answer is clearly yes, and we were chuffed with what turned out to be probably the best accommodation of the holiday.
After unpacking and freshening up we walked into Elounda and received a warm welcome from mini, nano and regular Dimitri at his taverna, affording me the opportunity to enjoy the comfort of having the same meal as I always do when we visit - I realise this is contrary to the spirit of adventure but its so damn nice and costs very little. The only disappointment is that Hellas bar is no more, after some court case damages and noise complaint shenanigans that would not stand up to close scrutiny - either way, Gordon has lost his business and an English couple have taken over the bar.
In its place is Cafe Hellas, run by a nice couple who have unfortunately turned into an identikit of all the other Anglicised tourist haunts in Elounda, which means the only decent night is to be had at Mavrikano - subject to us actually ever getting there to confirm this.
The thought of braving the howling winds and sea spray over the causeway in the dark persuaded us to splash out on a ludicrously priced taxi back, but returning to a big apartment where we could comfortably relax and unwind was a perfect conclusin to the evening.
Monday 11th September 2006
I should mention in mitigation that the apartment does not have aircon - Ilias explained that the windy location on the kolithikia peninsula meant there was no need, but to be fair he does come from Greece, not a cold island on the edge of Europe. The only minor downside is that I went to sleep naked and on top of the covers,, then woke at 3am freezing and got under them, then could not get back to sleep til 5 and slept in til gone 9 and woke up in a heat induced stupor. But never mind , the views good.
Breakfast was a cup of tea with disconcerting sweet Greek milk, so we wandered off about 11 to to perhaps grab something better en route to see Maria at Kato Elounda. " Hilariously ", having reached Hiona pool bar for coffee, I realised that I had forgotten the photo;s that we had carefully brought with us for Maria, so had to run the 15 mins back to the EIV too fetch them.
We made slow progress into Elounda, once there slowed further by Chala visiting every shop to touch things and point out how nice everything was without buying it - I swear this is an exclusively female preoccupation.
Tooled up with water and glucose and essentials such as earrings, and after Chala had undertaken a somewhat upsetting conversation with work, we trudged up the steep hill to Pano and then Kato Elounda. Imagine our amusement then at arriving at the Kafenion at 13.00 - and finding it shut. Mind you, it was a good sign that the key was in the door, so Chala sat down on one of the arse breaker chairs and I went in search of life. Luckily Maria came out only a minute later, and recognised us, so we were sat down as she opened up and given obligatory salted tomatoes and cucumber with our drinks. She seemed to like the photographs we brought for her.
We were struggling by on our shared English and Greek between the three of us, and after a brief visit from the pongy man ( he has no other name, poor bloke, although this moniker is very apt ) it wasn't't long before Dimitri turned up in his truck. He remembered us from our last visit and we celebrated with more beer, some wine and of course, taking the all important photos.
We had to leave at 14.00 as we wanted a meal at Dimitri's again which was excellent - the best ( and strongest ) garlic bread I have ever tasted and good beer as well these days. Chala went back fro a kip and I went to Cafe Babel to find very little use for the tinterweb then went for an explore.
I ended up snoozing as well when I hot back and then spent a while dressing up ( as far as that's possible ) before we went out at 20.00, crucially remembering the torch. In Elounda we rang G+Y to find out if all was OK and were stunned to be met with their bombshell that it was too difficult for them to continue looking after the cats so could Marie take over for the last few days. I concede I was utterly speechless. Luckily Marie agreed, but this was a surprise that we could well have done without.
Chala of course had to have the job of ringing home to make this really awkward request, after which we didn't much feel like eating to be honest, but we persuaded ourselves that it was gone nine and the friendly atmosphere at Dimitri's would be an ideal antidote to our sense of bewildered disappointment. Tea was great after all, and we had chance for a quick goodbye before fighting our way blindly through a developing storm over the causeway back to Elounda Island Villas. It was just a shame we didn't get to the Pope's for a few brandys.
Tuesday 12th September 2006.
Up early to settle up and arrange to leave around dinner as we only had a short hop to our final destination of Kritsa. We seamed to be taking a while to come round but couldn't resist one last omelette and fabulous tzatziki in the var. We had a brief but pleasant cooking in the sun and wind on the patio before organizing a stodgy meaty English Breakfast to finish up our remaining food.
We stopped in at Hiona for a coffee before strolling along the waterfront to catch the 15.00 bus to Agios. Having arrived early we were surprised that a bus pulled up straight away - as is usual in Elounda its never quite clear where the bus is going or whether it is half an hour early or 90 minutes late but either way we jumped on and were in Agios ridiculously early. Laden with the rucksacks, Chala dumped me at the bus station whilst she went on a vital expedition to purchase some sun shorts or artichoke face quiche or other interminable lady nonsense.
As 16.30 approached we bought the tickets and then began the random exercise of guessing, sometimes ahead of the drivers themselves, which of the numerous empty buses was going to Kritsa. Luckily we know from experience that when travelling to the mountains, if in doubt, follow the old ladies. We did, and were soon on the bus and in Kritsa.
Argyro and the family were all pleased to see us and we were booked into room 10, which is a bit bigger than we had last time, and also has the luxury of a balcony, and close proximity to the communal fridge for my insulin. Having spruced up we decided to eat at Argyro's that evening, and had pork potatoes and tomatoes from the oven, with her home made red wine. Spot on.
Afterwards we waddled up the hill to catch up with friends, and visit the Castello to give out photographs. Kostas looks noticeably tired out, this tuned out to be because Maria was overdue, he was struggling whilst she was in hospital and he had only recently been ill himself. Still, we were welcomed warmly as always and had drinks and nibbles whilst catching up with Kostas and Dora.
After raki and Crepe Suzette which was fantastic, we had to call it a night as we were shattered, and there was the dread threat of a market day in Agios looming the next day, so we were in bed earlier, and a little more refreshed, than normal
Wednesday 13th September 2006.
Up early after a restless nights sleep - the balcony is a nice touch but it does rather increase the noise from the road, which appears to double as a racetrack, and the courtyard when Argyro has visitors. Still, this inconvenience is wiped out by the opportunity to have a delicious Argyro breakfast in the garden under the orange trees.
Despite noticeable lactose failings ( you almost have to beg for milk, not sure why ) breakfast filled us up nicely and we felt sate enough to wander around the village for a bit, ending up at " the trees ". This newly opened business proved to be a rather unsavoury introduction to the insular side of village life.
If you forgive my stereotype, it is unusual, especially in idyllic sunny places far away, to find a stressed Dutch couple, but the two people who had reopened the above named business were at their wits end. After 18 months of building and waiting for builders, equipment misplacement and damage, noise disputes, bureaucracy and vandalism, the couple were still awaiting final completion of the paperwork to run the whole business, whilst facing endless losses of trade, as well as insidious and covert damage to their property whilst the delays continued.
Whilst of course I only got to hear their side of the story, it did look very much like a couple of outsiders had come in and bought and resurrected a closed business, in a small village that relies very heavily for tourism to supply its collective livelihood. Whilst anyone who visits Crete for work or business should expect a certain soporific approach to getting most things done, its easy to see why the couple felt that everything that could be put in their way has been. The fact that there is hostility, even if only minor, suggests that further competition, especially from non Greeks, is not welcome.
I am only too aware that Britain is a hotbed of xenophobia and prejudice, eclipsed I suspect only by Spain's impressive racism, and its true that overt hostility exists to foreign business setting up in communities in in the UK, but as the guy pointed out, in the UK at least there is a framework of legally watertight or at best reliable guarantees, and laws against malpractice, that simply don;t seem to exist in Greece. It leaves a bitter taste in the mouth mostly because it so clearly demonstrates that you can't escape the us and them mentality, and perhaps also because it persuaded me that Chala's idyllic vision of life in some remote Cretan village ( running a business ) was so much more untenable and daunting than previously thought.
Putting this to the back of our minds we headed off into the bustling melee of the Agios market, affording Chala the opportunity to fondle, smell and coo at almost every item from, and generally tease the vendors of, the long line of stalls, a procedure that was over in the blink of a morning.
The market was as expected, heavy with mutton, and hilarious fake abidas and Nyke goods and Thoresby Market perfumes, but the bustle of the whole event is still enjoyable. To escape the chaotic crowds we had dinner at the roof garden restaurant, where I had had excellent Youvetsi, and the owner chatted to us having recognised us from the last visit. After lunch we went for a wander and a needless never ending jibber-argument about nothing, which lasted all the way until we got back onto the bus to Kritsa
Luckily, the pursuit of gifts that we ought to have already bought, calmed things down and led us to the art cafe. We stopped for a beer and ended up with a great meat platter , which when combined with the slick friendly service, the decor, and the ambiance prompted us to book a table for that night.
After Chala sloped off for zeds I went for my obligatory wander and wound up at Castello to fill this bugger in and have a soft drink. I took the rare opportunity whilst it was quiet to talk to Dora. Its stills surprising to think that she is 18, although that explanation did not help me to play down my comment that I thought she was 26. Still eh.
Kostas arrived and we caught up for a while but he was busy and I needed to get changed so I heded back and we left abut 7, after I had somehow contrived to break the toilet seat ( his is nothing to do with my extensive girth I should point out ).
The meal at the Art Cafe was in the upstairs room, and was fantastic. The veal stifado was like a thick braised steak and appeared to have been gently cooking all day. After we'd eaten we got to chat with the chef and the lady who had served us earlier. This was a marked contrast to our visit in May but I think that the lady is a hot rather than chilly climate person, and it was unseasonably cold when we were there.
We finished the night at Castello once again, where it was quiet and we had plenty of time to chat with Kostas, and meet someone who transpired to be Mr Dora. Kostas very kindly gave us a lift back, and were in bed knackered before we knew it.
Next time - Kritsa, Kroustas, village wine and getting home.......
Monday 18 August 2008
Sunday 18 May 2008
9th September 2006
Preveli and the optimists
ON our first day in Plakias we had purchased a couple of local walking guides, since we wanted to get to Preveli and the we had done very little walking up until that point. The guides seemed very detailed and written by an English bloke, but it transpired that either he was 17 feet tall, or had misjudged kilometre walking times with miles.
We got up early to walk to Preveli via the village of Giangiou which was going to be roughly 8 KM but the walk out of Plakias alone seemed never-ending before we even got onto the Preveli headed road - plus Chala's overpriced at £10 rucksack was doing her and my head in and so after a pointless 1 hour excursion to the petrol station we returned to Plakias and eventually caught the 11AM bus.
We intended to visit Preveli monastery and the beach then get the bus back in the afternoon, however it soon dawned on us that this might not work. The LP mentioned that from the car park there was a " steep path down to the beach " but the fact that the path to the car park had its own bus stop suggested a long walk was afoot.Undeterred, we visited the monastery, where we found out that bringing trousers was completely unnecessary and so there was now extra weight to carry on what was a surprisingly hot day. The monastery was well Worth any journey, with ornate decoration and ornamentation in the chapel and rooms and, almost like tourist utopia, the cutest most pathetic sounding kittens living in the courtyard. However, the fact is the monastery is not that big and try as we might the visit was never going to make the hour mark, let alone the unfeasible gulf in time before the bus back.
We grabbed a bite to eat outside, since someone had taken the sensible step of building a snack bar in the car park, which perhaps in light of the obscene boredom of fluctuating custom ( 50 patrons twice a day ) is understaffed at the times when you leave or before entering. During our wait for food we had wondered if it was possible to follow the path from the car park at the monastery to the beach - on inspection it said no entry and besides which seemed t go nowhere. Now fed up we instead walked the 2 or 3 KM back to the beach bus stop and then for another KM from the stop to the car park and onto the descent to the beach.
After 15 minutes of faltering, fearful tiptoeing it dawned on me that my rubbish eyesight made my balance and sense of perspective life threatening. and that to attempt to climb back up, even with a generous allowance for early busses and dehydration, might actually kill us, always supposing we made it down at all. It was 14.00, we had no cold drinks and the thought of spending less than an hour on the beach before climbing back up the steep slope in searing heat was less than tempting.
In addition, Chala looked like she might keel over , and the only shade we had seem was a disused toilet block, so we trudged disconsolately back up there. We poured warm water on our heads and drank crappy warm pop whilst trying not to pass out from the stench before stage by stage, we trudged off and climbed back to the first bus stop. By 15.20 we were back at the monastery car park snack bar fighting hordes of wasps and drinking rather more than was sensible during two mind numbing hours waiting for the bus back to Plakias.
On returning to civilisation we had a lie down and a shower and paid Nikos for the room, then went out for a fantastic meal at Sofia's - lemon pork and potatoes form the oven served in a tagine. We finished off the night with good beer, cocktails and raki at on the rocks. Preveli beach, it seems, will have to wait until I can see again.......
Next time, Elounda Island and Maria's Kafenion
Preveli and the optimists
ON our first day in Plakias we had purchased a couple of local walking guides, since we wanted to get to Preveli and the we had done very little walking up until that point. The guides seemed very detailed and written by an English bloke, but it transpired that either he was 17 feet tall, or had misjudged kilometre walking times with miles.
We got up early to walk to Preveli via the village of Giangiou which was going to be roughly 8 KM but the walk out of Plakias alone seemed never-ending before we even got onto the Preveli headed road - plus Chala's overpriced at £10 rucksack was doing her and my head in and so after a pointless 1 hour excursion to the petrol station we returned to Plakias and eventually caught the 11AM bus.
We intended to visit Preveli monastery and the beach then get the bus back in the afternoon, however it soon dawned on us that this might not work. The LP mentioned that from the car park there was a " steep path down to the beach " but the fact that the path to the car park had its own bus stop suggested a long walk was afoot.Undeterred, we visited the monastery, where we found out that bringing trousers was completely unnecessary and so there was now extra weight to carry on what was a surprisingly hot day. The monastery was well Worth any journey, with ornate decoration and ornamentation in the chapel and rooms and, almost like tourist utopia, the cutest most pathetic sounding kittens living in the courtyard. However, the fact is the monastery is not that big and try as we might the visit was never going to make the hour mark, let alone the unfeasible gulf in time before the bus back.
We grabbed a bite to eat outside, since someone had taken the sensible step of building a snack bar in the car park, which perhaps in light of the obscene boredom of fluctuating custom ( 50 patrons twice a day ) is understaffed at the times when you leave or before entering. During our wait for food we had wondered if it was possible to follow the path from the car park at the monastery to the beach - on inspection it said no entry and besides which seemed t go nowhere. Now fed up we instead walked the 2 or 3 KM back to the beach bus stop and then for another KM from the stop to the car park and onto the descent to the beach.
After 15 minutes of faltering, fearful tiptoeing it dawned on me that my rubbish eyesight made my balance and sense of perspective life threatening. and that to attempt to climb back up, even with a generous allowance for early busses and dehydration, might actually kill us, always supposing we made it down at all. It was 14.00, we had no cold drinks and the thought of spending less than an hour on the beach before climbing back up the steep slope in searing heat was less than tempting.
In addition, Chala looked like she might keel over , and the only shade we had seem was a disused toilet block, so we trudged disconsolately back up there. We poured warm water on our heads and drank crappy warm pop whilst trying not to pass out from the stench before stage by stage, we trudged off and climbed back to the first bus stop. By 15.20 we were back at the monastery car park snack bar fighting hordes of wasps and drinking rather more than was sensible during two mind numbing hours waiting for the bus back to Plakias.
On returning to civilisation we had a lie down and a shower and paid Nikos for the room, then went out for a fantastic meal at Sofia's - lemon pork and potatoes form the oven served in a tagine. We finished off the night with good beer, cocktails and raki at on the rocks. Preveli beach, it seems, will have to wait until I can see again.......
Next time, Elounda Island and Maria's Kafenion
Wednesday 26 December 2007
Wednesday 06/09/2006 0 the number of the worst
Up early for a triumphant bacon and egg breakfast cooked using the most rudimentary equipement by me. The ferry journey to Chora seemed to take a long time, not made any shorter by picking up the bin lorry, and taking it to " rubbish island " to collect the bins.
This set the tone for an eventful but not particularly enjoyable visit to Chora Sfakion. Disembarking in a hurricaine we set about trying to find accomodation from the guide but didn;t fancy the recommendations on the busy seafront. As it turned out, the inclement weather meant we needn't have worried about the noise.
At taverna 3 brothers we asked for a room with a fridge and kitchenette and were led on a 5 minute climb to a room with neither - insprational. We ended up back at Stavros Rooms which we had declined to look at earlier , so we asked them for the same as 3 brothers \and were shown a room with neither a fridge nor kitchenette. When we pointed this out, the guy said " you should have said this at te beginning " - he did however show us a studio.
Seeing that it had the aforementioned equipment, a balcony and aircon, and at hearing Chala's surprise at seeing a bath, and given that it was 30 euro I figured it was a great idea, took control and agreed to a 2 night stay. The guy took my passport to copy and Chala asked me to fetch the air con remote control.
Not wanting to relinquish the only decent room we;d seen so far I paid up front for 2 nights on receipt of the remote. Cue embolism number 1.
Chala became apoplectic at not being consulted on this pivotal decision, and also at the potential ( not yet evident ) of noise from the balcony, and the " sewage smell " which I could not setect and which she had neglected to mention at any point so far. I managed to close the shutters to reduce the imaginary noise but Chala complained that the air con was noisy as well. Cue more embolisms.
We did manage to suspend jibbering long enough to go for sonething to eat, to the shop, and to have a look around, before Chala went for a siesta and I went fior an explore. We also sought information from the exchange office, which was alledged to provide info and bookings for excursions as well as bus and boat times. From here on, any staff referred to at this office shall bbe known as " the storyteller ".
Thinking that with the noise issue sorted things may improve, I returned to find Chala;s bags packed and embolisms 5 and 6. During her siesta Chala had summarised that Chora was a shit tip and that all the tavernas were tacky tourist crap. No amount of pleasant or exciting excursions could cover the forror of spending another moment in Chora it seemed. Cue more " discussions ". An hour later, things became even more interesting - we were locked in.
After clambering onto and shouting from the balcony a man from the taverna came to let us out, but conceded that his Dad needed to look at the broken lock. We went out for tea knowing that the door needed to be baricaded during the night to stop it blowing open. Further hilarity ensued when we chose Niko's taverna - I had seen the menu earlier on and it seemed OK, and was easily the busiest premises on the waterfront. The emplty tavernas could have been due ti the fact that all of them had no provision for eating inside, and it was blowing a force ten gale.
Undeterred and protected by a wind break of tables of hardy Germans, we went through the menu ordering dishes that were either out of season, ficticious or finished, rendering the menu pointless. As they had no chicken, we reluctantly ordered chicken souvlakis - don't ask me how that works. After a fruitless hoour of chasing the tablecloth and mats and personal belongings around the wind tunnel we went back. The spectacle reminded me of film from Blue Peter in the 1980's which invariably featured cub scouts on a rollercoaster trying to drink milkshakes and eat crisps. To ruond off a crap evening I managed to somehow contrive to get the seat not the bowl and had to have a shower in te strange coloured bath to get clean. At this pint I had to agree that we would be leaving a night early for Plakias.
Thursday 07/09/2006 - Escape from Chora.....
After not too bad a nights sleep , thankful that the door had neither blown open to strew our possessions around the coast, or jammed shut again, condemning us to escape via the balcony, I immediatelyu set about once again packing my rucksack, followed by cramming at least a 3rd of Chala's stuff into it as well. This gave me ample time to think of a pisspoor excuse for why we were leaving a day early and therefore wanted my 30 euro back.
We were out by 09.30, and having lost the element oof surprise by emerging right in front of the taverna, found the owner and blurted some convoluted tale about bus time misinformation, Gavdos misunderstandings, then tagged on the end " so can I have my money back ? ". It somehow worked.
By now, Chala had already begun an epic series of embolisms based on the lack of opportunity in a traditional creatan village to purchas a mocha. Whilst I had packed, she had gome to visit the storyteller, who had woven a fanciful yarn about a magic bus that tuyrned up between 10 and 10.30 ; but it could be early or may not think of stopping so we needed to wave our arms frantically at it.
En route to the bus stop we visited a kafenion, to the stunned silence of the regulars. to have a coffee and for Chala to have another seizure about the lack of choice of coffees. despite having been forewarned by experience and common sense. After a brief sup and following more jibbering we arrived at the bus stop and started to wait. And wait. " Luckily " Chala managed to remind me over 100 times how crap Chora was, and then look at the timetable ( or that which had not been rendedred unreadable by bullet holes ) and then her watch, exasperatedly, approximately every 30 seconds. Soon, 10.00am passed, and the mildly amusing spectacle of two whistle happy traffic wardens trying to herd cars into parking spcaes in the baking sunshine was now seeming tiresome.
At 10.15, a bus appeared and pulled up infromt of us depositing numerous visitors. Because there is no official KTEA uniform, I had an interesting exchange of half understood ideas with a local man unloading his baggage, who didn;t seem to know if he was goiing to Plakias anymore than I did. However, all of a sudden, as gandalf had prophecised, another bus came down the road. Heeding the storyteller's advice, we shouted and frantuically waved our arms at the bus.
The driver, clearly a veteran of sweaty flustered tourists flapping their arms in front of him, motioned for us to be calm, and noncholantly informed us that he was ging to Plakias, but not until 11.00. Cue armageddon.
Meanwhile, back on planet earth, a number of passengers were now amassing at the bus stop, so Chala decided to blanket accuse them all of pushing in when the bus was ready to leave. After embarking on a full 10 minute embolism, following my offering Chala the chance to leave the greenhouse and fetch herself a cold drink, we agreed that I would go into the village and arrange for a taxi to take us to Plakias. Hilariously, the taxi office informed me that there would be no taxis available until the evening, so I grabbed two iced coffees and trudged back up the hill to tell she beast. Cue frothing.
By now, the assembled passengers, terrified by Chala's seeming possession, were hastily rearranging their travel plans to avoid travelling to Plakias on the same bus as us. The Chania bus loaded first, to reveal that only two other passengers dared to board the bus to Plakias. Finally, at 11.00 we set off on what turned out to be an amazing journeyn through tiny mountain villages and along narrow winding roads with precipitous drops either side. The view was incredible, somnething like one of those cinema tents at fairgrounds where they project film onto the roof of the tent and everyone watching falls over when the vehicle goes round a bend ( or a lady with a pram unexpectedly walks out ).
Plakias was just as windy as Chora but far nicer. The directions in the LP were typically vague for anyone without a compass, and at first we walked away from the accomodation along the seafront. Back on course, the first rooms looked good but Chala decided we should see other choices first. Unable to find any of the guids landmarks we asked an English bloke at a car rental company for directoins. We were soon at pension Thetis, receiving a warm and heartfelt welconme from Nikos. The room was clean and had a separate kitchen and a balcony overlooking the garden.
We had a very tasty inexpensive lunch at the taverna round the corner, and while Chala had her sisets I went exploring along the seafronnt and found " on the rocks " bar, serving excellent Craft Pilsner on draught. This was fantastic, with a hoppy flavourwhich reminded me of Pilsner Urquell or Edelstoft lager, and it was the first time I had enjoyed a good beer since Paleochora. I got beer mats and merchandis to take back and tell Dave at the shop about.
That night we ate at Medousa where I had excellent Kokinisto, and the obligatory raki and wine. Bed early.
N.B - There is a postscript in my diary from Chala, and in the intereest of fairness I wil paraphrase what she said and cut it down to a couple of lines - her tiredness, homesickness IBS nad ongoing depression made ghr really unable to cope with the mounting disappointments of Chora. To be fair, we went back ib 2007, only for an hour, and its like a magic potion that sends her ccazy. Must be the fog......
Friday 08/09/2006.
We had breakfast on our balcony befor taking a leisurely stroll round to the second " sandy " beach for a relaxing sunbathe. I say sandy only in respect of the way all beaches on the south cpoast aren't 0 - there are a few odd patches where the sea has pummelled some of the less resilient pebbles into scratching shingle.
Unfortunately the rest of the beach comprises small pebbles and rocks, and all around the wartes edge the pebble dunes move with the tide, so paddling out fills your footwear with gravel almost instantly. Having helpfully advised a giant German couple that we thought the sunloungers might be free, a sou, muscular harridan came round to demand 5 euro for the pleasure of a crappy lounger and parasol, whilst doing an excellent impression of a bulldog licking piss off a thistle.
After an hour pr two of expensive discomfort we headed to on the rocks for dinner then went back to the gravel pit to balance precariously on a rocky outc rop, involving further endurance waddling and pain. I have often mocked those who spend hours entrenched motionless on sandy beaches every day of their holiday but would have been overjoyed by just one day of soft sand at that moment. I did finally find a suitable rock to perch on, and was soon under attack from shoals of tiny fish who were overjoyed by the prospect of nibbling some of the dead skin from my shins - an amusing side effect of a diabetes related skin conditoin, which is greatly improved by sunshine and seawater, but not by piscene mastication.
Back on the loungers of uncertainty, and with no written terms and conditions on display about the rights and permission of their users, I opted to escape Evil Edna's icy gaze and console myself lying on the other beach for an hour with two naked Scots ladies. It was disconcerting that they both sounded 80 years old, but when, through circumstances beyond ny control, I got more vista than I bargained for, they turned out to be about 40 - and had been at the first accomodation when we were trying to find a room the day before. I went for a calming couple more beers before meeting up with Chala at Thetis.
We had a fantastic meal at Kri Kri, which despite its worrying adoration for Italian and English cuisine also served excellent greek dishes - although we both had calzone. We also splashed out on some Santorini wine which was very nice, but afterwards were inclined to go for a late night stroll and a beer at the pension rather than sup in some of the bars on the fromt. Bed late.
Next time - Preveli, Elounda Island and Kato Elounda
Up early for a triumphant bacon and egg breakfast cooked using the most rudimentary equipement by me. The ferry journey to Chora seemed to take a long time, not made any shorter by picking up the bin lorry, and taking it to " rubbish island " to collect the bins.
This set the tone for an eventful but not particularly enjoyable visit to Chora Sfakion. Disembarking in a hurricaine we set about trying to find accomodation from the guide but didn;t fancy the recommendations on the busy seafront. As it turned out, the inclement weather meant we needn't have worried about the noise.
At taverna 3 brothers we asked for a room with a fridge and kitchenette and were led on a 5 minute climb to a room with neither - insprational. We ended up back at Stavros Rooms which we had declined to look at earlier , so we asked them for the same as 3 brothers \and were shown a room with neither a fridge nor kitchenette. When we pointed this out, the guy said " you should have said this at te beginning " - he did however show us a studio.
Seeing that it had the aforementioned equipment, a balcony and aircon, and at hearing Chala's surprise at seeing a bath, and given that it was 30 euro I figured it was a great idea, took control and agreed to a 2 night stay. The guy took my passport to copy and Chala asked me to fetch the air con remote control.
Not wanting to relinquish the only decent room we;d seen so far I paid up front for 2 nights on receipt of the remote. Cue embolism number 1.
Chala became apoplectic at not being consulted on this pivotal decision, and also at the potential ( not yet evident ) of noise from the balcony, and the " sewage smell " which I could not setect and which she had neglected to mention at any point so far. I managed to close the shutters to reduce the imaginary noise but Chala complained that the air con was noisy as well. Cue more embolisms.
We did manage to suspend jibbering long enough to go for sonething to eat, to the shop, and to have a look around, before Chala went for a siesta and I went fior an explore. We also sought information from the exchange office, which was alledged to provide info and bookings for excursions as well as bus and boat times. From here on, any staff referred to at this office shall bbe known as " the storyteller ".
Thinking that with the noise issue sorted things may improve, I returned to find Chala;s bags packed and embolisms 5 and 6. During her siesta Chala had summarised that Chora was a shit tip and that all the tavernas were tacky tourist crap. No amount of pleasant or exciting excursions could cover the forror of spending another moment in Chora it seemed. Cue more " discussions ". An hour later, things became even more interesting - we were locked in.
After clambering onto and shouting from the balcony a man from the taverna came to let us out, but conceded that his Dad needed to look at the broken lock. We went out for tea knowing that the door needed to be baricaded during the night to stop it blowing open. Further hilarity ensued when we chose Niko's taverna - I had seen the menu earlier on and it seemed OK, and was easily the busiest premises on the waterfront. The emplty tavernas could have been due ti the fact that all of them had no provision for eating inside, and it was blowing a force ten gale.
Undeterred and protected by a wind break of tables of hardy Germans, we went through the menu ordering dishes that were either out of season, ficticious or finished, rendering the menu pointless. As they had no chicken, we reluctantly ordered chicken souvlakis - don't ask me how that works. After a fruitless hoour of chasing the tablecloth and mats and personal belongings around the wind tunnel we went back. The spectacle reminded me of film from Blue Peter in the 1980's which invariably featured cub scouts on a rollercoaster trying to drink milkshakes and eat crisps. To ruond off a crap evening I managed to somehow contrive to get the seat not the bowl and had to have a shower in te strange coloured bath to get clean. At this pint I had to agree that we would be leaving a night early for Plakias.
Thursday 07/09/2006 - Escape from Chora.....
After not too bad a nights sleep , thankful that the door had neither blown open to strew our possessions around the coast, or jammed shut again, condemning us to escape via the balcony, I immediatelyu set about once again packing my rucksack, followed by cramming at least a 3rd of Chala's stuff into it as well. This gave me ample time to think of a pisspoor excuse for why we were leaving a day early and therefore wanted my 30 euro back.
We were out by 09.30, and having lost the element oof surprise by emerging right in front of the taverna, found the owner and blurted some convoluted tale about bus time misinformation, Gavdos misunderstandings, then tagged on the end " so can I have my money back ? ". It somehow worked.
By now, Chala had already begun an epic series of embolisms based on the lack of opportunity in a traditional creatan village to purchas a mocha. Whilst I had packed, she had gome to visit the storyteller, who had woven a fanciful yarn about a magic bus that tuyrned up between 10 and 10.30 ; but it could be early or may not think of stopping so we needed to wave our arms frantically at it.
En route to the bus stop we visited a kafenion, to the stunned silence of the regulars. to have a coffee and for Chala to have another seizure about the lack of choice of coffees. despite having been forewarned by experience and common sense. After a brief sup and following more jibbering we arrived at the bus stop and started to wait. And wait. " Luckily " Chala managed to remind me over 100 times how crap Chora was, and then look at the timetable ( or that which had not been rendedred unreadable by bullet holes ) and then her watch, exasperatedly, approximately every 30 seconds. Soon, 10.00am passed, and the mildly amusing spectacle of two whistle happy traffic wardens trying to herd cars into parking spcaes in the baking sunshine was now seeming tiresome.
At 10.15, a bus appeared and pulled up infromt of us depositing numerous visitors. Because there is no official KTEA uniform, I had an interesting exchange of half understood ideas with a local man unloading his baggage, who didn;t seem to know if he was goiing to Plakias anymore than I did. However, all of a sudden, as gandalf had prophecised, another bus came down the road. Heeding the storyteller's advice, we shouted and frantuically waved our arms at the bus.
The driver, clearly a veteran of sweaty flustered tourists flapping their arms in front of him, motioned for us to be calm, and noncholantly informed us that he was ging to Plakias, but not until 11.00. Cue armageddon.
Meanwhile, back on planet earth, a number of passengers were now amassing at the bus stop, so Chala decided to blanket accuse them all of pushing in when the bus was ready to leave. After embarking on a full 10 minute embolism, following my offering Chala the chance to leave the greenhouse and fetch herself a cold drink, we agreed that I would go into the village and arrange for a taxi to take us to Plakias. Hilariously, the taxi office informed me that there would be no taxis available until the evening, so I grabbed two iced coffees and trudged back up the hill to tell she beast. Cue frothing.
By now, the assembled passengers, terrified by Chala's seeming possession, were hastily rearranging their travel plans to avoid travelling to Plakias on the same bus as us. The Chania bus loaded first, to reveal that only two other passengers dared to board the bus to Plakias. Finally, at 11.00 we set off on what turned out to be an amazing journeyn through tiny mountain villages and along narrow winding roads with precipitous drops either side. The view was incredible, somnething like one of those cinema tents at fairgrounds where they project film onto the roof of the tent and everyone watching falls over when the vehicle goes round a bend ( or a lady with a pram unexpectedly walks out ).
Plakias was just as windy as Chora but far nicer. The directions in the LP were typically vague for anyone without a compass, and at first we walked away from the accomodation along the seafront. Back on course, the first rooms looked good but Chala decided we should see other choices first. Unable to find any of the guids landmarks we asked an English bloke at a car rental company for directoins. We were soon at pension Thetis, receiving a warm and heartfelt welconme from Nikos. The room was clean and had a separate kitchen and a balcony overlooking the garden.
We had a very tasty inexpensive lunch at the taverna round the corner, and while Chala had her sisets I went exploring along the seafronnt and found " on the rocks " bar, serving excellent Craft Pilsner on draught. This was fantastic, with a hoppy flavourwhich reminded me of Pilsner Urquell or Edelstoft lager, and it was the first time I had enjoyed a good beer since Paleochora. I got beer mats and merchandis to take back and tell Dave at the shop about.
That night we ate at Medousa where I had excellent Kokinisto, and the obligatory raki and wine. Bed early.
N.B - There is a postscript in my diary from Chala, and in the intereest of fairness I wil paraphrase what she said and cut it down to a couple of lines - her tiredness, homesickness IBS nad ongoing depression made ghr really unable to cope with the mounting disappointments of Chora. To be fair, we went back ib 2007, only for an hour, and its like a magic potion that sends her ccazy. Must be the fog......
Friday 08/09/2006.
We had breakfast on our balcony befor taking a leisurely stroll round to the second " sandy " beach for a relaxing sunbathe. I say sandy only in respect of the way all beaches on the south cpoast aren't 0 - there are a few odd patches where the sea has pummelled some of the less resilient pebbles into scratching shingle.
Unfortunately the rest of the beach comprises small pebbles and rocks, and all around the wartes edge the pebble dunes move with the tide, so paddling out fills your footwear with gravel almost instantly. Having helpfully advised a giant German couple that we thought the sunloungers might be free, a sou, muscular harridan came round to demand 5 euro for the pleasure of a crappy lounger and parasol, whilst doing an excellent impression of a bulldog licking piss off a thistle.
After an hour pr two of expensive discomfort we headed to on the rocks for dinner then went back to the gravel pit to balance precariously on a rocky outc rop, involving further endurance waddling and pain. I have often mocked those who spend hours entrenched motionless on sandy beaches every day of their holiday but would have been overjoyed by just one day of soft sand at that moment. I did finally find a suitable rock to perch on, and was soon under attack from shoals of tiny fish who were overjoyed by the prospect of nibbling some of the dead skin from my shins - an amusing side effect of a diabetes related skin conditoin, which is greatly improved by sunshine and seawater, but not by piscene mastication.
Back on the loungers of uncertainty, and with no written terms and conditions on display about the rights and permission of their users, I opted to escape Evil Edna's icy gaze and console myself lying on the other beach for an hour with two naked Scots ladies. It was disconcerting that they both sounded 80 years old, but when, through circumstances beyond ny control, I got more vista than I bargained for, they turned out to be about 40 - and had been at the first accomodation when we were trying to find a room the day before. I went for a calming couple more beers before meeting up with Chala at Thetis.
We had a fantastic meal at Kri Kri, which despite its worrying adoration for Italian and English cuisine also served excellent greek dishes - although we both had calzone. We also splashed out on some Santorini wine which was very nice, but afterwards were inclined to go for a late night stroll and a beer at the pension rather than sup in some of the bars on the fromt. Bed late.
Next time - Preveli, Elounda Island and Kato Elounda
Saturday 17 November 2007
South Coast of Crete, Paleochora to Plakias
Sunday 04/09/2006
woke up having had a good nights sleep, despite the fear of a ceiling fan calamity. Parma Ham and fresh orange was our unusual breakfast choice. Once we'd secured our boat tickets we naturally had to spend a frustrating hour looking fruitlessly in various shops so that Chala could buy some bikini bottoms. After endless fannyimg, said needlessness was achieved and we boarded the modest craft for Elafonisi.
Disembarking our toy vessel was interesting, on account of the " jetty " being a couple of pallets cemented to a rocky outcrop, followed by a precarious ( certainly for a blind bat like me ) clamber over jagged rocks and long defunct concrete to the campsite, and the beach. The vast white sands stretched out in front of us, but seeing the prices and lack of enticing grub at the snack bar, our first act was to slog up the hill to a taverna overlooking the bay for a meal.
The food was OK but we were soon itching to get on the Beach so we swiftly ran back down the hill and picked a prime spot with our towels and settled down to relax for a bit. After sunbathing and paddling, I just had enough time to cross the sand bar to to the other part of the islet for the briefest of looks round before we gathered up our clothes and traipsed back to the boat. We saw a tiny sea turtle in the bay prior to setting off, after which point I cleverly managed to get horribly sunburnt in a pattern on my back from resting against the bars of the boat.
After a quick snack on the front we headed back for a siesta, before venturing out to Portofino once again for truly excellent pzza and Pilsner urquell.
Tues 05/09/06
After saying our goodbyes and being packed off with some fresh grapes we caught the 09.45 ferry along the coast to Sougia. The ferry journey was really relaxing and we arrived in Sougia with nothing more than finding accommodation planned. Being essentially a single road and tavernas and accommodation, activities in Sougia are mainly drinking eating and sleeping, so having found accom at Hotel Santa Irina we started to do just that.
It soon became apparent that our hectic schedule so far had not really prepared is for the ultra laid back pace of Sougia, as we waited half an hour for a drink and a snack in the hotel cafeteria. The idyllic beach setting would no doubt have calmed us down over a day or tow but alas I had plans in mind for Chora so we were only staying the one night.
In the afternoon we bought flip flop things and headed to the beach, or gravel quarry as it transpired. After only minutes of exhausting trudging in the shingle we reached a couple of loungers and went for a sit down in the sea. Best described as a swimmers beach, the pebbly shoreline slopes downward quickly, and every incoming wave fills your attire with pebbles and sand. Needless to say our visit was short lived.
After a recuperative slumber on the loungers for a couple of hours we went to cafe Lotos for some friendly and slow service and a drink, before heading to Yanni's. This taverna is tucked behind the Police station with its amusing " rooms for rent " sign on the door. The food was absolutely delicious, but a combination of it being really busy and the relaxed service ethic meant we were driven mad - it took 30 minutes to pay for Christs sake. Impressively, the only other tourist chewing his fist at the counter was a fellow Brit - you can see us a mile off it seems.
We stopped off at Lotos again, spending ages marvelling at and being amused greatly by the mens toilet - which is self cleaning with an unlikely wobbly rotating seat, which, much to her embarrassment, I simply had to take Chala to see. Bed late
Chora and Plakias next time..........
Sunday 04/09/2006
woke up having had a good nights sleep, despite the fear of a ceiling fan calamity. Parma Ham and fresh orange was our unusual breakfast choice. Once we'd secured our boat tickets we naturally had to spend a frustrating hour looking fruitlessly in various shops so that Chala could buy some bikini bottoms. After endless fannyimg, said needlessness was achieved and we boarded the modest craft for Elafonisi.
Disembarking our toy vessel was interesting, on account of the " jetty " being a couple of pallets cemented to a rocky outcrop, followed by a precarious ( certainly for a blind bat like me ) clamber over jagged rocks and long defunct concrete to the campsite, and the beach. The vast white sands stretched out in front of us, but seeing the prices and lack of enticing grub at the snack bar, our first act was to slog up the hill to a taverna overlooking the bay for a meal.
The food was OK but we were soon itching to get on the Beach so we swiftly ran back down the hill and picked a prime spot with our towels and settled down to relax for a bit. After sunbathing and paddling, I just had enough time to cross the sand bar to to the other part of the islet for the briefest of looks round before we gathered up our clothes and traipsed back to the boat. We saw a tiny sea turtle in the bay prior to setting off, after which point I cleverly managed to get horribly sunburnt in a pattern on my back from resting against the bars of the boat.
After a quick snack on the front we headed back for a siesta, before venturing out to Portofino once again for truly excellent pzza and Pilsner urquell.
Tues 05/09/06
After saying our goodbyes and being packed off with some fresh grapes we caught the 09.45 ferry along the coast to Sougia. The ferry journey was really relaxing and we arrived in Sougia with nothing more than finding accommodation planned. Being essentially a single road and tavernas and accommodation, activities in Sougia are mainly drinking eating and sleeping, so having found accom at Hotel Santa Irina we started to do just that.
It soon became apparent that our hectic schedule so far had not really prepared is for the ultra laid back pace of Sougia, as we waited half an hour for a drink and a snack in the hotel cafeteria. The idyllic beach setting would no doubt have calmed us down over a day or tow but alas I had plans in mind for Chora so we were only staying the one night.
In the afternoon we bought flip flop things and headed to the beach, or gravel quarry as it transpired. After only minutes of exhausting trudging in the shingle we reached a couple of loungers and went for a sit down in the sea. Best described as a swimmers beach, the pebbly shoreline slopes downward quickly, and every incoming wave fills your attire with pebbles and sand. Needless to say our visit was short lived.
After a recuperative slumber on the loungers for a couple of hours we went to cafe Lotos for some friendly and slow service and a drink, before heading to Yanni's. This taverna is tucked behind the Police station with its amusing " rooms for rent " sign on the door. The food was absolutely delicious, but a combination of it being really busy and the relaxed service ethic meant we were driven mad - it took 30 minutes to pay for Christs sake. Impressively, the only other tourist chewing his fist at the counter was a fellow Brit - you can see us a mile off it seems.
We stopped off at Lotos again, spending ages marvelling at and being amused greatly by the mens toilet - which is self cleaning with an unlikely wobbly rotating seat, which, much to her embarrassment, I simply had to take Chala to see. Bed late
Chora and Plakias next time..........
Tuesday 16 October 2007
Please find the next installment - we have now reached the south coast of Crete....
Sunday 3rd September 2006
Despite only 4 hours sleep and a stinking hangover we were up before 10 to pack, fail to manage breakfast, give the keys back and run ( not literally with full rucksacks ) up the hill to the bus station with minutes to spare. Despite roadworks the journey took less than the threatend 2 hours and we arrived before 14.00
We set off for the headland and soon spotted some of the lonely planet suggestions but whilst dithering ended up at Rooms Nikos, overlooking the sea ( via the street, and only in half the rooms ) but a pleasing 30 euro a night with a ceiling fan and fridge. There is also a provate patio area.
As delerium tremors set in we headed out to the " renowned " Caravello's restaurant, omly to be desperately unimpressed. My spaghetti with cheese was just and only that - half a kilo of cold spaghetto with 15 grammes of tasteless grated cheese. The food was the absolute minimum they could have bothered to do having taken my money and I made it clear I was unhappy, by having an amusing Englishman abroad strop. I am not proud of it, but they did take the piss big style, my case not helped by mistaking a colourful t shirted local woman for a waitress, standing up and glowering at the actual wautress so as to get the bill then storming off when we had waited for it to arive without touching the free dessert.
Anyhoo, after errands and exploration followed by a brief kip we were out Englishly early to be the first customers of the evening at Portofino on the waterfront. This is an excellent well run Italian restaurant with an emphasis on pizza, cooked in wood fired ovens. More than that, they show amazing foresight in opting to sell draught Pilsner Urqell which vied with my affections as the highlight of the evening, if only for the fact that I had not had good draught beer on any occasion so far. I have to confirm that the pizza's and level of service are excellent.
We sloped off to bed early feeling shattered, ready for tomorrows excursion.
more south coast notes soon. ( always assuming that logging on does not, as tonight, take me 45 minutes........ )
Yan
Sunday 3rd September 2006
Despite only 4 hours sleep and a stinking hangover we were up before 10 to pack, fail to manage breakfast, give the keys back and run ( not literally with full rucksacks ) up the hill to the bus station with minutes to spare. Despite roadworks the journey took less than the threatend 2 hours and we arrived before 14.00
We set off for the headland and soon spotted some of the lonely planet suggestions but whilst dithering ended up at Rooms Nikos, overlooking the sea ( via the street, and only in half the rooms ) but a pleasing 30 euro a night with a ceiling fan and fridge. There is also a provate patio area.
As delerium tremors set in we headed out to the " renowned " Caravello's restaurant, omly to be desperately unimpressed. My spaghetti with cheese was just and only that - half a kilo of cold spaghetto with 15 grammes of tasteless grated cheese. The food was the absolute minimum they could have bothered to do having taken my money and I made it clear I was unhappy, by having an amusing Englishman abroad strop. I am not proud of it, but they did take the piss big style, my case not helped by mistaking a colourful t shirted local woman for a waitress, standing up and glowering at the actual wautress so as to get the bill then storming off when we had waited for it to arive without touching the free dessert.
Anyhoo, after errands and exploration followed by a brief kip we were out Englishly early to be the first customers of the evening at Portofino on the waterfront. This is an excellent well run Italian restaurant with an emphasis on pizza, cooked in wood fired ovens. More than that, they show amazing foresight in opting to sell draught Pilsner Urqell which vied with my affections as the highlight of the evening, if only for the fact that I had not had good draught beer on any occasion so far. I have to confirm that the pizza's and level of service are excellent.
We sloped off to bed early feeling shattered, ready for tomorrows excursion.
more south coast notes soon. ( always assuming that logging on does not, as tonight, take me 45 minutes........ )
Yan
Sunday 7 October 2007
wee beefys travels part 2
Please find the next part of my travel blog
Wednesday 30th August 2006
We were up early for breakfast in our "courtyard " surrounded by high rise hotel rooms and with outfall pipes running below our feet, taking it in turns to use the one bowl for our cornflakes. We walked through the mercifully shady streets to the Museum of Cretan Life, which cost 3 euro's each and essentially comprises a single room with cabinets displaying photo's and text - plus two dummies ( not us I hasten to add ). All too soon our lengthy 10 minute visit ( achieved by looking at exhibits twice ) was over and we headed to the Fortezza, up what seemed an unappetisingly steep path in searing heat.
We had an enjoyable traipse round the site, which is admirably hazardous in so many ways - no stupid health and safety fences or walls to help one aviod impaling oneself, falling down or over something or generally meeting a sticky end.
Well done to the Cretans for this.
After photo's and walking around the mainly shadeless ruins we headed back to the fountain for a cold beer before we visited the Lemon Tree for more excellent food abd real ale ( of sorts ). After briefly stopping off at the wardrobe we headed out intending to go to the beach. We were accosted by a tout asking us questions about the holiday and with an "amusing" pattter about how stereotypically obsessive/lazy/foul smelling/lustrous the French/German/Italian/etc.... whichever race of persons the raccconteur figured we would harbour irrational hatred of, were.
Enniz. at the end of this Alf Garnettl banter we were amzed ( ish ) to find that we had won something, the receipt of which merely involved getting a free taxi to the company resort for a tour. With nothing else planned we agreed, firmly deciding to not agree to anything no matter how nice it seemed or how much cheap champagne they gave us. The tour was predictably persuasive and was amusing mainly for the well drilled guide occasionally and obviously forgetting/losing interest in his sales patter.
We declined to sign up to resort holidays for ever but still " won " a free holiday ( as if ) and were taken back ( to the wrong accomodation ) in another free taxi. Still. it passed some time on.
Late on we headed to Venitio, a very nice and quite expensive restaurant with a keen interest in wine - but I talked to the waiter about beer anyway, which I am sure he appreciated. Following an earlier promise of trad Greek music we headed to a taverna nearby to be abjectly disappointed by some bazouki music that sounded like a ragu advert.
Thursssday 31st August 2006
Having got a taxi to the chaos of the bus station we were looking for a hassle free sojourn into Chania from the bus station. Having found our bearings we went on a long fruitless search for the tourist information office, following two conflicting sets of directions before, exhausted and pouring with sweat a chance look up into the sky enabled us to spot a sign the size of a beermat.
The toursit information staff helpfully informed us that they did not have a list of accomodation in Chania, but that ( as we already knew ) if we headed into the old town there was sure to be something there. Having found that taxi's do not go to the old town Chala's map reading got us to Efygina quite quickly. The room was quite small and basic except it had a 4 poster bed, jacquizzi and hairdyer - something never before spotted in Cretan accomodation.
We slept in the afternoon before stting out to find cafe Kriti, which took 20 minutes from about 2 minutes walk from where it is. We had a good value tasty meal at a taverna set back from the road bearby before venturing into cafe Kriti to spend 2 hours sat on the Cretan chairs of death and talking to an Australian lady called Kathy. The Music and atmosphere were brilliant however. and Kathy was a mine of useful information.
We slept like logs when we got back - or at least we would have, were it not for the fact that a raging storm blew in during the night highlighting a minor problem with the room - a helpul missing window pane.
Friday 0st September 2006
After a quick chat with the owners about the glass ( they had not replaced it owing to the hot weather ) we went for a further look around Chania including the Turkish Quarter. Dinner was fantastic, at a little Ouzeri round the corner with a blackboard menu outside. The food is basic but very tasty and sensibly priced. Chala went to get her hair cut so I walked out along the sea wall to the lightjhouse - or rather I tried to, but the other part of the wall leading to the lighthouse was closed so I headed disconsolately back.
We ate at the same place for our evening meal befor visiting Rudi;s Beerhouse and specnding quite unjustifiable amounts of cash on exellent beer ( including Franziskaner Dunkel and possibly also Schklenherla Weiss ). Bed late.
Saturday 2nd September 2006
After a liquid breakfast we once more visited the Turkish Quarter ( a photographers paradise ) and also visited the outdoor market, which appears to be half a mile of stalls, selling the same produce. Still, this keeps prices low and if we hadn't had the worlds most ineffective cooker we could have been well rewarded. Halfway round we stopped for a souvlaki cooked on a barbecue, by a bloke who when I asked to take his photograph, shooed away customers ( and his wfe ) befor sticking a pipe in his mouth to pose proudly for the shot. Despite the addition of tobacco the souvlaki was fantastic.
On the way back we also visited the indoor market ( and bought raki glasses ) and walked down the leather street ( or similar ) where I goit a wallet for 8 euro 50. When we returned to the studio I spent 1 hour 15 minutes boiling enough water to have a boiled egg ( is this some kond of record ? ) before we headed out around 19.00 and finally went in the Talos Bar.
The music playing was a good sign ( Manu Chao, Led Zep ) and we had hot raki with honey. beer and cocktails befor remembering around 21.00 that we also had to eat. After a quick but very tasty meal round the corner we returned to find the bar very busy - that is not difficult since the inside is about the size of a bus stop, but the tables outside were all full.
As the night wore on ( and the raki and cocktails and indeed numerous other unwise mixes of alcohol ) continued to flow, we were joined by some of the only other people I have ssen in all of Creet wearing black and having long hair. This of course could have meant nothing, they could all have simply liked David Hasselhof, ( god forbid ) but it turned out they liked Nick Cave and Godspeedyou black emperor. We chatted as best we could to Kristov, Yanni ( who went to Uni in the UK ) and Stelios, who had an incredible resemblence to a young Nick Cave. I feel sure that Chala's highlight was whem Stelios summed up the courage too tell her she was a very beautiful woman ( given that she has mentioned it 70 times since ) but I think our ill fated trip to Bororo was possibly better.
We left Talos with Yanni and a couple of his mates, and found a seat outside whilst a bizarre band that sounded slightly like Stereolab played in the tiny bar. We were all chatting happily away when a bloke turned up who Yanni did not like. Cue remonstrative shouting and cursing and other pandemonium as he went from being quite calm if a little pissed to irrationall in 3 seconds, befort storming off.
Our remaining companions seemed to think this was quite normal so we didn't feel bad about leaving them to pay the bill as we sloped off back. pastthe shrill tones of some catterwauling ld woman in Cafe Kriti , to get to bed around 4AM.
Next time - the South Coast.....
Wednesday 30th August 2006
We were up early for breakfast in our "courtyard " surrounded by high rise hotel rooms and with outfall pipes running below our feet, taking it in turns to use the one bowl for our cornflakes. We walked through the mercifully shady streets to the Museum of Cretan Life, which cost 3 euro's each and essentially comprises a single room with cabinets displaying photo's and text - plus two dummies ( not us I hasten to add ). All too soon our lengthy 10 minute visit ( achieved by looking at exhibits twice ) was over and we headed to the Fortezza, up what seemed an unappetisingly steep path in searing heat.
We had an enjoyable traipse round the site, which is admirably hazardous in so many ways - no stupid health and safety fences or walls to help one aviod impaling oneself, falling down or over something or generally meeting a sticky end.
Well done to the Cretans for this.
After photo's and walking around the mainly shadeless ruins we headed back to the fountain for a cold beer before we visited the Lemon Tree for more excellent food abd real ale ( of sorts ). After briefly stopping off at the wardrobe we headed out intending to go to the beach. We were accosted by a tout asking us questions about the holiday and with an "amusing" pattter about how stereotypically obsessive/lazy/foul smelling/lustrous the French/German/Italian/etc.... whichever race of persons the raccconteur figured we would harbour irrational hatred of, were.
Enniz. at the end of this Alf Garnettl banter we were amzed ( ish ) to find that we had won something, the receipt of which merely involved getting a free taxi to the company resort for a tour. With nothing else planned we agreed, firmly deciding to not agree to anything no matter how nice it seemed or how much cheap champagne they gave us. The tour was predictably persuasive and was amusing mainly for the well drilled guide occasionally and obviously forgetting/losing interest in his sales patter.
We declined to sign up to resort holidays for ever but still " won " a free holiday ( as if ) and were taken back ( to the wrong accomodation ) in another free taxi. Still. it passed some time on.
Late on we headed to Venitio, a very nice and quite expensive restaurant with a keen interest in wine - but I talked to the waiter about beer anyway, which I am sure he appreciated. Following an earlier promise of trad Greek music we headed to a taverna nearby to be abjectly disappointed by some bazouki music that sounded like a ragu advert.
Thursssday 31st August 2006
Having got a taxi to the chaos of the bus station we were looking for a hassle free sojourn into Chania from the bus station. Having found our bearings we went on a long fruitless search for the tourist information office, following two conflicting sets of directions before, exhausted and pouring with sweat a chance look up into the sky enabled us to spot a sign the size of a beermat.
The toursit information staff helpfully informed us that they did not have a list of accomodation in Chania, but that ( as we already knew ) if we headed into the old town there was sure to be something there. Having found that taxi's do not go to the old town Chala's map reading got us to Efygina quite quickly. The room was quite small and basic except it had a 4 poster bed, jacquizzi and hairdyer - something never before spotted in Cretan accomodation.
We slept in the afternoon before stting out to find cafe Kriti, which took 20 minutes from about 2 minutes walk from where it is. We had a good value tasty meal at a taverna set back from the road bearby before venturing into cafe Kriti to spend 2 hours sat on the Cretan chairs of death and talking to an Australian lady called Kathy. The Music and atmosphere were brilliant however. and Kathy was a mine of useful information.
We slept like logs when we got back - or at least we would have, were it not for the fact that a raging storm blew in during the night highlighting a minor problem with the room - a helpul missing window pane.
Friday 0st September 2006
After a quick chat with the owners about the glass ( they had not replaced it owing to the hot weather ) we went for a further look around Chania including the Turkish Quarter. Dinner was fantastic, at a little Ouzeri round the corner with a blackboard menu outside. The food is basic but very tasty and sensibly priced. Chala went to get her hair cut so I walked out along the sea wall to the lightjhouse - or rather I tried to, but the other part of the wall leading to the lighthouse was closed so I headed disconsolately back.
We ate at the same place for our evening meal befor visiting Rudi;s Beerhouse and specnding quite unjustifiable amounts of cash on exellent beer ( including Franziskaner Dunkel and possibly also Schklenherla Weiss ). Bed late.
Saturday 2nd September 2006
After a liquid breakfast we once more visited the Turkish Quarter ( a photographers paradise ) and also visited the outdoor market, which appears to be half a mile of stalls, selling the same produce. Still, this keeps prices low and if we hadn't had the worlds most ineffective cooker we could have been well rewarded. Halfway round we stopped for a souvlaki cooked on a barbecue, by a bloke who when I asked to take his photograph, shooed away customers ( and his wfe ) befor sticking a pipe in his mouth to pose proudly for the shot. Despite the addition of tobacco the souvlaki was fantastic.
On the way back we also visited the indoor market ( and bought raki glasses ) and walked down the leather street ( or similar ) where I goit a wallet for 8 euro 50. When we returned to the studio I spent 1 hour 15 minutes boiling enough water to have a boiled egg ( is this some kond of record ? ) before we headed out around 19.00 and finally went in the Talos Bar.
The music playing was a good sign ( Manu Chao, Led Zep ) and we had hot raki with honey. beer and cocktails befor remembering around 21.00 that we also had to eat. After a quick but very tasty meal round the corner we returned to find the bar very busy - that is not difficult since the inside is about the size of a bus stop, but the tables outside were all full.
As the night wore on ( and the raki and cocktails and indeed numerous other unwise mixes of alcohol ) continued to flow, we were joined by some of the only other people I have ssen in all of Creet wearing black and having long hair. This of course could have meant nothing, they could all have simply liked David Hasselhof, ( god forbid ) but it turned out they liked Nick Cave and Godspeedyou black emperor. We chatted as best we could to Kristov, Yanni ( who went to Uni in the UK ) and Stelios, who had an incredible resemblence to a young Nick Cave. I feel sure that Chala's highlight was whem Stelios summed up the courage too tell her she was a very beautiful woman ( given that she has mentioned it 70 times since ) but I think our ill fated trip to Bororo was possibly better.
We left Talos with Yanni and a couple of his mates, and found a seat outside whilst a bizarre band that sounded slightly like Stereolab played in the tiny bar. We were all chatting happily away when a bloke turned up who Yanni did not like. Cue remonstrative shouting and cursing and other pandemonium as he went from being quite calm if a little pissed to irrationall in 3 seconds, befort storming off.
Our remaining companions seemed to think this was quite normal so we didn't feel bad about leaving them to pay the bill as we sloped off back. pastthe shrill tones of some catterwauling ld woman in Cafe Kriti , to get to bed around 4AM.
Next time - the South Coast.....
Sunday 23 September 2007
wee beefy Crete 2006
Since 2005 I have been writing articles for beer matters in Sheffield. I say writing, but to be fair I receive no payment so in effect I am just jotting notes for pleasure. 3000 copies of beer matters are distributed in Sheffield and it is available on the web, but I couldn't get an article in a real ale maagazine about Crete, a beautiful, friendly beer desert, because it would make no sense. So I tried this.
For years. me and our lass ( which is her actual name ) have trusted tour operators to take us to Crete, and paid handsomely for it. We organised a short trip ourselves and realised, as thousands had previously, that this was cheaper and more rewarding. So in 2006 and again this year we went to Crete for 3 weeks, amd kept a diary each time.
The story of our trip in 2007 will follow, since its took me 13 months to stir myself into jibbering on the internet. I had wanted to write on an ongoing basis whilst over there but this proved difficult since I had no blog.
25/08/06
Wee Fatha drove us to the airport via a shortcut that turned out not so, which I have to say I was glad of, since Chala had insisted we get to the airport considerably earlier than was necessary.
After getting through heightened security we were in Heraklion by 22.00 ish and got a seemingly expensive taxi to our hotel, where we had a quick shower before venturing out into the city centre. Iraklio ( since we are in Crete ) is quite large but the city centre seems compact. We headed for the famous lions fountain and found a place selling gyros for next to nothing, so ate there. By the time we were done ( 12.30 am ) most bars were closing, which seemed very early for a European capital city, but no worse than in the UK, and since we were knackered we headed back to the hotel to put the air con on. I decided to drink the compliemntary wine that someone had left in the fridge but it smelt of urine so decided to get some sleep instead. Besides, I needed to try and make my ears pop......
26/08/06
Up early having had not much sleep we went down to breakfast with other more tanned and slimmer tourists who sounded German amd French. Breakfast was fine and after we'd packed, the very helpful receptionist phoned the Aristea Hotel in Anogia to check that we were booked in ( I called from the Uk and I speak little Greek and they little English so was a bit concerned).
We set out for a walk around the market where I bought what turned out to bve an unimaginably poor quality camera bag and we enjoyed an ince cold Paulaner Weiss in a bar near the fountain. We got to bus statoin B in good time to sample the " delights " of the cafe on the corner which seems to sell almost nothing before catching a bus up into the hills and Anogia.
Hotel Aristea was easy to find and we were made very welcome, and were then gobsmacked with the size of our accomodation - 2 floors with 4 rooms and 2 balconies for 45 euro per night. We walked around the upper village for a while but were soon seeking rest and recouperation so slept til evening. At night we went to a taverna on the hill in the upper village and had some lamb and potatoes and village wine and raki, whilst listening to traditinoal greek music.
This meal did end up setting a precedent for Anogia - the lamb was always mainly on the bone and the potatoes in short supply - we didn't see any locals eat anywhere , so we were at a loss to think which were the best places to eat. We finished the evening in the upper square becoming confused by ownership of chairs and tables and being ignored. To be fair, we didn't wamt babying but this was a contrast to hospitality previously received in villages in Crete.
27/08/06
Today we explored the lower village and visited Nikos Xilouris's house, which seems to operate as a kafenion. Food continued to be less than edifying, but beer is cheap and we have found a supermarket, so our hotel self catering unusualness is proving quite helpful - we also discovered that the room comes with breakfast, which is a nice touch. We visited the folk museum, which is tucked away up a back street, and there was a guy there playing an old lyre. The walls are adorned with paintings photo's and tapestries of German troops ransacking the village during the war and this theme preoccupies much of the rest of the exhibits, indeed much of the rest of the village. They are very fond of statues and obviously have taken a lot from past hardships.
In the afternoon Chala went for a kip and I went on a pointless walk down the windy road to.... well, really just a spot where I felt tired and decided to turn back. Tea was in the bottom village and once again promised much and delivered little. The walk back up was also suitably tiring and we ended up in the square again for a late night drink. Despite the food, we decided to stay another night.
28/08/2006
One of the reasons we opted to visit Anogia ( as well as the musical heritage ) was that we were supposed to be visiting the ideon andron cave , but with no map and only 240 seconds advice we sagely opted not to embark on such an adventure. The morning was spent not addressing the stressed Frenchman about the cave, before walking through the square to the lower village. We bought phome cards and, since the phome in the village was out of order, called Rethymno bus station from outside Nikos's house. Buses to Rethymno are 07.00 and 15.45 - the plan is to forgoe breakfast and leave at 06.30.
At dinner we asked Aristea how we could get a taxi to the famous Delina taverna. Aristea got Giorgi out of bed and told him to drive us the 2 or 3 KM to what turned out to be an empty closed taverna - for which he would accept no payment. Being closed our taverna visit was brief, followed by a 2KM walk into Anogia's fringes, and dinner at Marooni Taverna, where we had the first decent food of the trip. We walked back to the Hotel and slept until 18.00.
We had a long and complicated discussion with Aristea about busses and prices before walking to infocost ( or similar ) to get on tinternet. Having found out what was required ( including asking everyone there where the bus stopped ) we walked into the upper village and went to taverna Aetos, where Chala had apaki ( smoked pork ) as well as copious wine and other alcohol. Probably the best meal of the trip so far.
After the meal we stoppd off briefly at the hotel ( to shamefacedly explain that we did not understand how to use the sink plug ) before we headed off to the Cretan wedding just down the road. The band seemde to play for hours and we sat down to yet more lamb on the bone with a huge crowd of people, many of whom had travelled from afar and like us, did not know the couple getting married.
This explained why there was no food in the village and was also a great introduction to the Cretan wedding experience. I have to say though that when she came ( or in fact was carried ) out, the bride did appear to be barely concious.......
29/08/2006
Up at Christ on a bike o clock ( 05.30 ) to finish packing and try and manage breakfast. Away on time and up the very steep hill to " the place whete the bus stops " this gave me ample opportunity and space to throw up, and then stand in three different places to catch the bus, before getting the side of th e road wrong. The bus journey was spectacluar, but in my sleep deprived stupour I left my cap on the bus. We were kidnapped at the bus station by Lefteris. who whisked us off in his posh car to see his accomodation.
To be fair to Lefteris, he is a very friendly bloke who, since he is a business man, knows that backpackers are looking for cheap centrally located accomodation, so tries to provide it We rejected the first place on grounds of size and no cooking facilities and chose Elina studio's nexct to the Ideon hotel almiost at the port. There was air con and a typically package holdiay crap 2 ring cooker. The " eclectic " studio was 35 euro.
Had an early dinner ( and beer of course ) at a place called Cul De Sac and spent hours wandering the narrow streets befor finally succumbing to a siesta at 15.00. Afetr finding a dead thing in the shower, we headed out to find supplies ( not self catering supplies alas, so no money saved on the kitchen facilities ) before we headed out to the Rimondi fountain ( or premises next to it ) for cocktails and Erdinger before we had food at the Lemon Tree.
Here I discovered to my amazement and dellight that beer really is brewed in Crete, better still, here in Rethymno. Brinks Organic Rethymno beer is brewed by a German bloke and bottled fresh without filtering or preservatives or other nonsense, which unfortunately means that you can't take it out, and even if kept refrigerated it only lasts a few months. It does though, more or less qualify as bottle conditioned beer, so is eminiently worth seeking out on that basis, even if it does taste marginally of cereal.
We left at 22.00 in search of traditional Cretan music ( rembitika ) but none was to be found so we retired early.
More to come soon......
Wee Beefy
For years. me and our lass ( which is her actual name ) have trusted tour operators to take us to Crete, and paid handsomely for it. We organised a short trip ourselves and realised, as thousands had previously, that this was cheaper and more rewarding. So in 2006 and again this year we went to Crete for 3 weeks, amd kept a diary each time.
The story of our trip in 2007 will follow, since its took me 13 months to stir myself into jibbering on the internet. I had wanted to write on an ongoing basis whilst over there but this proved difficult since I had no blog.
25/08/06
Wee Fatha drove us to the airport via a shortcut that turned out not so, which I have to say I was glad of, since Chala had insisted we get to the airport considerably earlier than was necessary.
After getting through heightened security we were in Heraklion by 22.00 ish and got a seemingly expensive taxi to our hotel, where we had a quick shower before venturing out into the city centre. Iraklio ( since we are in Crete ) is quite large but the city centre seems compact. We headed for the famous lions fountain and found a place selling gyros for next to nothing, so ate there. By the time we were done ( 12.30 am ) most bars were closing, which seemed very early for a European capital city, but no worse than in the UK, and since we were knackered we headed back to the hotel to put the air con on. I decided to drink the compliemntary wine that someone had left in the fridge but it smelt of urine so decided to get some sleep instead. Besides, I needed to try and make my ears pop......
26/08/06
Up early having had not much sleep we went down to breakfast with other more tanned and slimmer tourists who sounded German amd French. Breakfast was fine and after we'd packed, the very helpful receptionist phoned the Aristea Hotel in Anogia to check that we were booked in ( I called from the Uk and I speak little Greek and they little English so was a bit concerned).
We set out for a walk around the market where I bought what turned out to bve an unimaginably poor quality camera bag and we enjoyed an ince cold Paulaner Weiss in a bar near the fountain. We got to bus statoin B in good time to sample the " delights " of the cafe on the corner which seems to sell almost nothing before catching a bus up into the hills and Anogia.
Hotel Aristea was easy to find and we were made very welcome, and were then gobsmacked with the size of our accomodation - 2 floors with 4 rooms and 2 balconies for 45 euro per night. We walked around the upper village for a while but were soon seeking rest and recouperation so slept til evening. At night we went to a taverna on the hill in the upper village and had some lamb and potatoes and village wine and raki, whilst listening to traditinoal greek music.
This meal did end up setting a precedent for Anogia - the lamb was always mainly on the bone and the potatoes in short supply - we didn't see any locals eat anywhere , so we were at a loss to think which were the best places to eat. We finished the evening in the upper square becoming confused by ownership of chairs and tables and being ignored. To be fair, we didn't wamt babying but this was a contrast to hospitality previously received in villages in Crete.
27/08/06
Today we explored the lower village and visited Nikos Xilouris's house, which seems to operate as a kafenion. Food continued to be less than edifying, but beer is cheap and we have found a supermarket, so our hotel self catering unusualness is proving quite helpful - we also discovered that the room comes with breakfast, which is a nice touch. We visited the folk museum, which is tucked away up a back street, and there was a guy there playing an old lyre. The walls are adorned with paintings photo's and tapestries of German troops ransacking the village during the war and this theme preoccupies much of the rest of the exhibits, indeed much of the rest of the village. They are very fond of statues and obviously have taken a lot from past hardships.
In the afternoon Chala went for a kip and I went on a pointless walk down the windy road to.... well, really just a spot where I felt tired and decided to turn back. Tea was in the bottom village and once again promised much and delivered little. The walk back up was also suitably tiring and we ended up in the square again for a late night drink. Despite the food, we decided to stay another night.
28/08/2006
One of the reasons we opted to visit Anogia ( as well as the musical heritage ) was that we were supposed to be visiting the ideon andron cave , but with no map and only 240 seconds advice we sagely opted not to embark on such an adventure. The morning was spent not addressing the stressed Frenchman about the cave, before walking through the square to the lower village. We bought phome cards and, since the phome in the village was out of order, called Rethymno bus station from outside Nikos's house. Buses to Rethymno are 07.00 and 15.45 - the plan is to forgoe breakfast and leave at 06.30.
At dinner we asked Aristea how we could get a taxi to the famous Delina taverna. Aristea got Giorgi out of bed and told him to drive us the 2 or 3 KM to what turned out to be an empty closed taverna - for which he would accept no payment. Being closed our taverna visit was brief, followed by a 2KM walk into Anogia's fringes, and dinner at Marooni Taverna, where we had the first decent food of the trip. We walked back to the Hotel and slept until 18.00.
We had a long and complicated discussion with Aristea about busses and prices before walking to infocost ( or similar ) to get on tinternet. Having found out what was required ( including asking everyone there where the bus stopped ) we walked into the upper village and went to taverna Aetos, where Chala had apaki ( smoked pork ) as well as copious wine and other alcohol. Probably the best meal of the trip so far.
After the meal we stoppd off briefly at the hotel ( to shamefacedly explain that we did not understand how to use the sink plug ) before we headed off to the Cretan wedding just down the road. The band seemde to play for hours and we sat down to yet more lamb on the bone with a huge crowd of people, many of whom had travelled from afar and like us, did not know the couple getting married.
This explained why there was no food in the village and was also a great introduction to the Cretan wedding experience. I have to say though that when she came ( or in fact was carried ) out, the bride did appear to be barely concious.......
29/08/2006
Up at Christ on a bike o clock ( 05.30 ) to finish packing and try and manage breakfast. Away on time and up the very steep hill to " the place whete the bus stops " this gave me ample opportunity and space to throw up, and then stand in three different places to catch the bus, before getting the side of th e road wrong. The bus journey was spectacluar, but in my sleep deprived stupour I left my cap on the bus. We were kidnapped at the bus station by Lefteris. who whisked us off in his posh car to see his accomodation.
To be fair to Lefteris, he is a very friendly bloke who, since he is a business man, knows that backpackers are looking for cheap centrally located accomodation, so tries to provide it We rejected the first place on grounds of size and no cooking facilities and chose Elina studio's nexct to the Ideon hotel almiost at the port. There was air con and a typically package holdiay crap 2 ring cooker. The " eclectic " studio was 35 euro.
Had an early dinner ( and beer of course ) at a place called Cul De Sac and spent hours wandering the narrow streets befor finally succumbing to a siesta at 15.00. Afetr finding a dead thing in the shower, we headed out to find supplies ( not self catering supplies alas, so no money saved on the kitchen facilities ) before we headed out to the Rimondi fountain ( or premises next to it ) for cocktails and Erdinger before we had food at the Lemon Tree.
Here I discovered to my amazement and dellight that beer really is brewed in Crete, better still, here in Rethymno. Brinks Organic Rethymno beer is brewed by a German bloke and bottled fresh without filtering or preservatives or other nonsense, which unfortunately means that you can't take it out, and even if kept refrigerated it only lasts a few months. It does though, more or less qualify as bottle conditioned beer, so is eminiently worth seeking out on that basis, even if it does taste marginally of cereal.
We left at 22.00 in search of traditional Cretan music ( rembitika ) but none was to be found so we retired early.
More to come soon......
Wee Beefy
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