Athens and Crete - DKT Page 25

02 May 1998

We landed at Athens airport at 0630 after a 12-hour overnight flight from Johannesburg, via Nairobi. Caught a taxi into the Plaka District located in the oldest part of the city. The population of Athens is around four million souls, and our first impression of the city is of a huge, sprawling, concrete jungle with way too many billboards, cars, chronic traffic jams and terrible air pollution. Even so, we're excited.

Checked into Electra Palace Hotel located right at the foot of the Acropolis.

The backstreets around Plaka host a multitude of al fresco restaurants. Our first meal in Athens was at a charming little spot with a very friendly staff . . . as it turned out, way TOO friendly (doesn't this fellow look happy to see us?). We ordered mousaka, tsatsiki, kefteta, etc., etc. and our congenial waiter told us they had a house special (not on the menu) with everything we wanted included in it, and why didn't we just order that instead?

Sure! . . . and aren't we stupid. Later when the bill arrived we discovered we were being charged more than three times as much than if we'd ordered the items separately! We cussed and whined, but suddenly nobody could speak English anymore, so we paid and went away unhappy.

Took a tram from Plaka into the city center and spent the morning at the National Archeological Museum. Considering the mind-boggling wealth of art and cultural artifacts contained therein, the place is a little seedy and run-down; even so, the displays are splendid and it deserves several days' worth of visits, not just a few hours.

At dusk we walked to the far side of the Acropolis and bought tickets for the Sond et Lumiere (sound and light show). The show, in which the history of Pericles' Athens is recited to the accompaniment of music and dramatic lighting effects of the entire Acropolis, was a gift to Athens from the people of France. It was a very evocative program.

At dawn we left the Electra Palace and hiked up the Acropolis. Climbing the very steps once trod by Socrates, Plato, Pericles, et al, is a sobering experience. It was wise to start early and beat the crowds. For an hour or so we had the Parthenon, Theatre of Dionysos, Temple of Athena Nike, etc. to explore essentially by ourselves.

The tour buses started showing up by 0930 and the hilltop quickly became crowded with thousands of tourists.

06 May 1998

We caught an Olympic Airways flight from Athens to Crete. Rented a car and drove to the ancient seaport of Chania. Spent two frustrating hours trying to find our lodgings at Casa Delfino. The Old Town of Chania has narrow one-way streets, and it took us awhile to realize that most lanes in the old Venetian quarter are passable only on foot and that the closest we could drive was still several blocks away from our hotel.

Most of the hotels in this quarter are converted Venetian mansions from the 14th century. Our room was at the edge of a beautiful little harbor with a still-functioning 500 year-old lighthouse at the end of the breakwater. The balcony overlooks the quay below, lined with al fresco restaurants which stayed open each night until the wee hours.

Like the islands of the Aegean, control of Crete successively passed through the hands of Minoans, Greeks, Venetians, Turks, Germans, etc. Everybody left their mark, as evidenced by this old mosque at the edge of the esplanade.

08 May 1998

At six a.m. we caught a bus for a one-hour ride to the mountain village of Omalos. Here begins the trail descending into the Gorge of Samaria. The hiking route is 18 km's in length: from a 1228-meter elevation at its start in Omalos to the end of the gorge at sea level in the town of Agio Roumeli.

At its narrowest point the walls of the gorge are only three meters apart, while rising vertically 500m on either side. Not a good spot for claustrophobes.

Even though the trek was totally downhill, the steep hike down the pine-covered slopes and through the spectacular limestone defile was quite strenuous. We were hot and tired when we at last stumbled onto the sand of Crete's southern coast. We quickly shed our sweaty togs and dove into the crystal clear waters of the Libyan Sea.

We lounged on the black sand beach until the once-daily boat started loading for the hour-long trip from Agio Roumeli (reachable only on foot via the gorge, or by sea) to the village of Sougia. There we caught a bus, which dropped us off two hours later, sore and tired and happy, back in Chania. D&K listened to music and had best Greek food to date (except for Costas Opa in Fremont) at a tiny backstreet restaurant.

Departed Chania for a driving tour of southwest Crete. Late in the afternoon we found a room at Hotel Idi in the tiny mountain town of Zaros. Trout farm and old water mill. D. walked through the hills at dawn. Climbed past a little lake and up into a rocky valley to find a monastery with pigeons and chanting monks. It was quite picturesque and he's sorry he hadn't a camera along.

10 May 1998

Zaros to Heraklion. Approaching from the west our first sight of this largest Cretan city was a crumbling Venetian fortress built in the 15th century.

Checked into Hotel Irina. Walked to El Greco Park (though usually thought of as a Spanish painter, 'The Greek' was actually born in Heraklion) and for lunch we sat on a park bench to eat spinach/feta pies. Checked with ferry company and found out that the ferry Romilda (which we had planned to take the next morning to Santorini) would be delayed 24 hours due to heavy weather. We need to be moving on from Crete, so even though we we'd already purchased ferry tickets (no refunds allowed) we went ahead and booked seats on an Olympic Airways flight leaving late tonight. Good thing too, for we found out later that Romilda didn't make it to Santorini for another four days.

Visited the restored ruins at Knossos in the afternoon . . . marvelously elegant and dramatic architecture and artwork.

Our favorite was the Dolphin mural in Queen's megaron.

At 2200 we dropped off the car and caught Olympic Airways flight from Iraklion to Fira, Santorini.

We were met at the airport by a reticent fellow named Dimitris (sent by our proprietress) and taken on hair-raising 45-minute drive. We were glad it was dark so we couldn't see the precipices we sensed looming immediately to the right side of the tires. Well after midnight we arrived at the northern tip of the island and the pitch-black town of Oia. Dragged our luggage down a steep and seemingly endless flight of steps until we found 'La Perla' and Kiki Moutsatsos. Kiki showed us to our charming cave house carved into the face of the cliff 300 feet above the sea.

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