Aromatherapy and Athletes

"You know," I called out to Joel who was several meters above me, "travel really does make you stretch yourself, doesn't it?" Enveloped in a sun induced thyme aromatherapy, we had set out on a path leading us from Loutro Bay up among Venetian ruins.  

.  We'd taken a picnic lunch up to the stone table outside the village's church perched on a cliff. The day so clear that in the distanc we could see Gavdos Island (the history of this area goes back so far that St. Paul refers to the island as "Cauda" in Acts 27: 12-16). From the church, we followed a level footpath past the remains of a village centuries ago abandoned.

Paths are marked with blue, black and yellow paint which means something to those who hike regularly.  It was when we spotted a path marked with orange "A" that we decided to veer upwards, it appeared a gentle slope through the thyme. But the gentle path turned into a goat trail and at the point I called out to Joel I was seeking a foothold on a rock and grasp a thyme plant above me to haul/crawl in a rather unlady-like manner to the next level.

It took a bit of work, but we reached the top and had a fantastic view of Phoenix (Fenix) the next bay over.  We saluted our atheletic abilities and have decided the letter A must mean, "Athletes only."

Longing for Loutro

/We've spent long winter months thinking about Loutro, the small hamlet to the west of Hora Sfakia that is accessible only by boat or a steep switchback trail down a mountain side.  We opted to return by ferry this year. At 8.60E for the two of us, the price can't be beat as the 20 minute ride is over seas as smooth as glass.

Loutro is so small that it makes Hora Sfakia, at not quite 400 year round residents, the big city. It is often bypassed though by the folks who arrive on large passenger buses and board the ferry heading further west to Crete's famed Samaria Gorge.

We headed straight for Maria's gift shop as we stayed in her place last year (and yes, she also remembered us).  This year we lucked out and had one of the rooms with a larger balcony (our balcony is pictured above).  We greeted each morning here with dove songs and goat bells provided the background music for this perfect setting.  The price was 30E, or about $43 per night.

And for those wondering: yes, the water is really this blue.

A Taste of Honey - Sweetened with Thyme

Crete is known for its honey.  And we've joined its multitudes of devoted fans.  Cretan honey is the consistency of an icing . . .a thick, golden topping that you nearly need cut though to get to whatever you've put it on.  One of our favorite breakfasts is a simple serving of locally made yogurt with as much honey on top as we can reason would be 'healthful'.  What makes our Sfakian honey special is the slightly smokey flavor with such a strong hint of thyme that it assaults both your sense of smell and taste when opening a jar.

We felt lucky to find some of last year's honey still available; this year's won't appear on grocery shelves until July.  We felt even luckier to find the wild thyme plants in bloom, blanketing the hillsides and the bees so busy with them that they ignored us while we took our hikes through the countryside.  Thyme has covered the hillsides for centuries with some plant stalks looking more like small trunks.

A Wire-less wonderfland

Since leaving Hora Sfakia, we've arrived at our second wonderland along the Lybian Sea on the south coast of Crete and while both have been spectacularly beautiful, remote villages, they are true 'wire-less' wonderlands. . .they are so tucked away below towering peaks that there is no internet.  We have wound our way skywards up a hillside some 12 kilometers  to find a funny little internet cafe tucked away on the second floor, above one of the town's cafes. 

We are also far removed from the political turmoil of Athens. Yesterday's civiil servants strikes there shut down air traffic control and ferries; our neighbors returning to their home in Europe are hoping to leave today but we've all agreed that if you must be stranded somewhere, this is the place to be.  Life continues here with a slow rythmic pace that seems to mimic the slow rythmic waves that brush the shore only footsteps from our door.

Photos and longer descriptions will return to the blog after we become wired again. . . that is, if we can pry ourselves away from the villiage and head to a larger city. 

A Sfakian Sunday

Our Sunday in Sfakia began with deck dining and watching the boats go by. . .it is a laid back day by all standards and tourist season has yet to hit the area so it is as if we have the town almost to ourselves.

After strolling along the waterfront and watching the priest arrive by motorboat, we were reminded that we have always intended to climb the hill to visit the cross in the cave - we weren't aware that there is actually a small chapel built into the cave as well.

So we started up the trail from the road below.  Actually we started from our hotel down by the water's edge, then up to the road and then up the hillside.  Thank goodness for handrails.

                                                    The chapel.

During World War II Allied Troops hid here from the Nazis. A rather somber place.

Buzzing around Crete

It is fitting that we are 'buzzing' around Crete in a car the size and color of a bumblebee. . .we decided that using me as a gauge was a good way of illustrating our little car.  It is amazingly spacious inside and has great gas mileage; important here, because gasoline is about $8.50US a gallon.

We drove up a serpentine strip of highway yesterday to reach Anapoli, a village on a high plain at the base of the Lefka Ori (White Mountains), the peaks here reach some 8,000 feet.  The town is surrounded by olive groves and great expanses of barren lands.  Goat and sheep bells blend with doves coo-cooing and the trill call of the scops owl.

We crossed this tressel and iron bridge that spans AradenaGorge.  Hikers wind their way down into the gorge and then hike several miles to reach the sea - we prefer the car even with a ribbon of hairpin turns.  You can see the gorge's depth in the space between the tressels; last year we walked across it because I wasn't sure it would hold a car. . .this year we crossed right after a large passenger bus crossed!

We had a table with a view when we had lunch in Anapoli. The lady who runs the place had lived many years in New York City; they returned to the village because her husband was from here.  Now 16 years later she says, the change was real difficult for her the first few years.

This fellow was sunning himself along side the road and enjoying the view of the sea.

Yassis! Yassis!

As we strolled along the row of small waterfront restaurants,we were reminded of why it was worth two days travel to get here. This small port town is as enchanting as the first time we visited last year.  We decided to try the place we had stayed and liked so well, Hotel Stavris. We found the two fellows who run the place and oversee its operation (while keeping up with the activities in the town) seated at the same table and chairs in the courtyard as where they had been last year when we left.  Joel asked if they had availability and one furroughed his brow, looked at me and stated/asked, "You were here before?!" We said we had been. "I remember," he said, giving me one of the biggest bear hug welcomes and repeating, "Yassis! Yassis!" (Hello, Hello). 

Of course they had a room for us; they keep one back for repeat visitors they said.  As soon as we were settled in to our spacious room with wrap around view deck for 35E per night, yes, that is about $50 US per night we were invited to join the boys for a welcome drink.

Our second stop was at our favorite bakery (in the world) proved equally as memorable.  Run by Marcos and his wife Niki, it is filled with pastries and breads and jars of famous Crete honey.  We had barely stepped inside when Niki looked up, called out, "You are back!!  Welcome, Welcome!"  Again we were wrapped in bear hugs and 'had' to try several new cookies that have been introduced since we last stopped in. 

Dinner was at our favorite restaurant along the waterfront, Delfini, where again we were remembered. . .and by the way, we stayed for only three days the last time we were here.  As we sipped the raki they serve guests at the end of each meal, I said that three days were simply not long enough. . .in fact I am not sure Joel will get me to leave when the time comes.

From Kirkland to Crete

We were once again reminded that getting from our home in Kirkland in the Pacific Northwestern United States to the southern coast of Crete on the Lybian Sea is a trip of endurance. . .and one in which about half way through we start asking ourselves if there wasn't someplace a bit closer that we could have been as happy visiting.

We left Kirkland at 3:20, catching a Metro bus to downtown Seattle and there hopping aboard the Link train to Seatac. 

Our luggage for our month-long adventure consists of two roll-aboard size suitcases which we checked and two small carryons. Here Joel waits for our bus to Seattle.  Our total trip to Seatac cost $5.50 per person, took just over an hour and didn't require any friends to have to face rush hour traffic to drop us off.

Our British Air flight whisked us south of Iceland and nine hours later we were in London. We caught a bus at Heathrow and 40 minutes later we were at Gatwick where we overnighted and waited for our 3.5 hour flight to Crete.  For those who've followed the blog you know we flew thomascook.com, one of Europe's cheapie airlines.  Our plane was a Boeing 757, the food service (we had purchased in advance) was quite good, checkin a snap. . .the only thing we had against it was the cramped seating.  When I start having leg room issues you know the seats are cramped.

We rented a car in Heraklion over the internet and the rental went smoothly - we were on the road 10 minutes after getting to the car lot.  We pulled into our destination Chora Sfakia (Hora Sfakia) at 5:30 p.m. Friday and went in search of a hotel.