We’re taking a rest day in Crete after three full days of riding this hilly island. Yesterday started with a 90 minute climb straight up from the seaside village (Tsoutsouros) where we had ‘wild’ camped on the beach in the middle of town. We wanted to get on the road before the town got up and noticed these strangers on their beach. It was a gruelling but beautiful climb, devoid of traffic, smooth asphalt and still cool in the early morning. Nonetheless, I did the whole thing maxed out in granny ring and constantly wishing for another gear. In fact without our switch-backing across the road grade I would have had to push my bike. The rip down the other side of the pass on my 100 lb bike is scary fun but the brakes are smoking hot by the bottom…yeah, yeah, as my riding buddies would say, “Who needs brakes?”
I have finally come to the realization that the Greek islands are the de-facto vacation spot for much of Europe. Every little town with some semblance of a beach is loaded with vacation rentals (the go-to, tax avoidable, income generator for many Greeks), beach side cafes, etc. Thank God we are here before the hordes descend after school’s out. As it is though, the villages are charming, the sea, crystal clear and refreshing, the locals welcoming and the back roads are quiet and smooth, a big change from Turkey’s roads.
(Left) Scenic Island riding on quiet, coastal roads in perfect temps. Touring at its best. (Right) Picturesque villages around every bend
Another realization is that many locals have long memories and that many thousands of years of shared history can leave some bad blood. I had planned to fly small flags (on a dorky looking mast attached to our bikes) of each country we visit with the flag of the proceeding country below the flag of the current country. After a number of sketchy looks our way and some locals, normally the most courteous of hosts, outright asking why we were flying the Turkish flag we decided to abandon our modest attempt at internationalism and we dropped the Turkish flag. We’ve subsequently realized the wisdom of that decision and will maintain the ‘single flag’ policy throughout the Balkans. Oh, the naivete of Canadians!
(I’ll continue this entry on board the overnight ferry to Athens. Claire figures this is the closest she will ever get her cheap husband to a ‘cruise’ ship. We bought ‘deck’ class tickets, goes without saying the cheapest, so we will be bunking down somewhere on the deck.)
Crete has been a wonderful island to traverse. From Sitia to Chania, east to west, in 6 days. We’ve swam the clear, startling blue waters every day, ‘wild’ camped a couple of nights, spent two nights in comfy ‘legit’ campsites, and two nights in proper beds. One of which was a very memorable visit with our Warm Shower’s host Stavros in Ierapetra. Once again, we were blown away by the hospitality. From the moment we rode up to his tiny home at the end of an alley, squeezed between assorted other buildings, we felt right at home. Stavros is a retired physics teacher whose son had done an international bike tour, starting from Vernon, BC, of all places, and decided to participate in his own way with the touring community and we are the richer for it. Stavros is well travelled, well read, knowledgeable on many subjects and a gregarious, born-conversationalist. After a homemade pizza dinner we drove up to the +/- 500 year old mountain village of Anatoli, his ancestral home. We did a walking tour of the village where everyone would greet Stavros (in that demonstrative Greek fashion) then settled in to the front porch of the one and only ‘taberna’ for a bucolic evening of local drink, mezes (the traditional Greek version of ‘tapas’), conversation and soaking up the ambiance of village life.
(Left) Stavros helped repair one of our pannier racks. The first of many repairs of inadequate gear. (Right) Stavros, at the rear on the left, and friends in the ‘taberna’ of his ancestral village
Our last night on Crete was spent in a modest, 2-story, walk-up, penisonne in the historic centre of Chania. As we pulled up to the door on our bikes, an older guy sitting on a stool near the entry hears our English and asks where we’re from. Within minutes I’m deep in conversation with Dave Beckstead, an old climbing partner of the legendary Fred Beckey and avid member of the Seattle International Bike Randoneering Club (??). If I remember correctly (don’t quote me)he did the first ascent of the classic ‘Calculus Crack’ in Squamish, amongst numerous other FAs with Fred……anyway, we ‘bonded’, so to speak. It was a fun, chance encounter. Postscript: Upon our return to Canada, I found out that Dave and Fred were indeed the first ascensionists of Calculus Crack, a very popular, 5-pitch climb that Claire and I have now repeated a couple of times.
The following day we headed off early for the port city of Souda to be amongst the first on-board the ferry to claim a good sleeping spot. While biding our time we ‘found’ this wonderful beach, that by Crete standards, we had to ourselves. After a swim and a long barefoot walk on firm sand we had an early meal at a large, empty restaurant (deep fried anchovies and french fries). We got talking about life with the owner and before we know it, a complimentary bottle of retsina shows up at the table, followed by a small flask of ‘raki’ and a plate of traditional sweets (as he told us, “raki goes best with something sweet and sweets are best with raki”). Note: We had drank a small bottle of retsina when we first arrived at the beach. Anyway, to make a long story short, despite my best efforts at restricting our consumption (I’m starting to worry about Claire!) we were a wee bit tipsy as we rode off to catch the ferry. The likelihood of this happening, ie., the fine encounter with, and generosity of, the restaurant owner, in a busy tourist town is very slim……and thus my desire to avoid them.
(Left) A bit tipsy! Thankfully it was a short ride to the ferry. (Right) Raki, retsina and sweets.
Now here’s hoping for a good nights sleep on board (unlikely). We arrive in enormous, chaotic Athens at 6:30 AM.
