The Cave of Zeus!

Far up into the ranges surrounding the Lassithi Plateau, is Psychro Cave, otherwise known as the Cave of Zeus. While 2 or 3 other sites in Crete also lay claim to this honour, Psychro Cave is where legend has it that Zeus was born. 

We drive up and up from one of the Plateau villages, park the car in what, in-season, is a large parking lot, usually filled with cars and tour buses, surrounded by cafes and trinket shops. On this day, it is empty, save for one other rental car and a herd of goats and many, many feral cats. Quite hilarious as the herd scatters away from us, their throat bells ringing as they run for the hills. As we sit and eat our lunch prior to our ascent, another herd comes down the pathway and we decide to save our carrots in case we need to redirect them as we make our way up.

Of course one of the cafes is called Zeus, and thankfully all the stores, and even the washrooms are shut tight.

We climb and climb and climb, eventually reaching more than 1000 meters above sea level. Close to the beginning we see a sign that tells us "donkey rides make the climb easier €10",  and I begin to wish we were in-season. 30 minutes later, we make it to the top. The view of the Plateau way below us is spectacular, and Marc reminds me, "this is why we're doing this trip now. In 5 or 10 years, we won't be able to do this climb!" Hugs all 'round.

We've forgotten that sites like this close early in the off-season, we arrive at the ticket counter at 2:20 pm, the cave closes at 3. Trying not to be disappointed that we won't be able to tary, we approach the cave entrance and are astounded at its depth, the map of chambers, the stalacites  and stalagmites we can see in the dim distance. 

A cult cave since the Neolithic Age, and also used by the Minoans during their last blast as a culture, it was first discovered in the 1880s and excavations revealed tools, pots, bones, evidence of fires, precious stones and metals, and an altar surrounded by votive offerings. These are now all kept in the Heraklion Museum. This place is immense and reminds us of our cave swimming in Belize with the kids. There are more than 8,000 caves throughout Crete, many revealing habitation since ancient times. 

On our way out, back through the winding switchbacks descending from the Plateau, the open but empty Homo Sapiens Museum, a Cretan Disneyland. We stop for the parking lot sign, but do not go in!

Lassithi Plateau

Coming to the end of our 2 weeks in Apostoli, it is time to rent a car. Our first in 2 months, having relied on public transit to take care of our movement through Florence, Rome, Naples and Heraklion. It is a luxury! We want to see a bit more of the countryside before we leave for Athens and have realized the only way to do so is by car.

We take the bus back into Heraklion on this day, find the car rental no problem, and head out for some sight-seeing. Our AirBnB host has encouraged us to do a day trip east of the village, stopping at points of interest along the way. The next morning we're up and out early, ready to take on the winding mountain roads, 1 wide lane, curvy switch backs, fantastic mountain ranges, and cliff side dropoffs next to the road. We travel like this all day long. Magnificent.

Every corner we turn, every range we climb, spreads Crete's landscape out before us. This water reservoir has been recently built, as a freshwater feed to Heraklion, some 50 Kms north.

After travelling for an hour, we get off the main road, finding the hidden signs for the village of Krasi, home to the largest tree on Crete, the Monumental Plane Tree. Thought to be a few centuries old, it would take about 20 people to wrap their arms around its trunk. Village festivals are held beneath its branches, and cafes and seating areas surround it's girth. On our day, it's pouring rain, but it does not detract from its beauty.

Leaving the village, Marc spies Crete's famous wood ovens, used for BBQs and baking, he's decided one of these would do mighty fine in our next backyard, wherever that may be!

We continue to head up the mountain range, stopping at the oldest monastery. This is the first time I've understood the silence of these places, you can hear the wind, the distant sounds of goat bells carried through the valley, our ears ring with the silence. An active monastery, we are the only visitors on this day, and an elderly black-cloaked woman greets us from across the courtyard in her broken English, asking if we'd like to see inside the church. €2. It is a tiny place, with ancient frescoes, beautiful altar pieces, many silver tin tribute votives placed along the shrine wall. Greek sacred texts, painted icons, lots of candles. She tells us of the story of the Miracle of Mary in Chains, but we don't quite get it. Upon our leaving, she asks us if we're Catholic, and not wanting to disappoint, we both say yes, which gets us a pat each, and a holy, satisfied smile. 

The corner drinking cistern looking out over the valley of vineyards, olive groves, orange and lemon trees and vegetable patches. Our guide disappears as quickly as she arrived. 

Back in the car on this drizzly day, the cloud cover is low, and moving fast. The gorges! And in the bottom photo, the upper road towards which we are driving, taking us to the top of this mountain range as we approach the Lassithi Plateau. 

A stock photo, for sure, and our sky was not blue, but at the top, we reach a break in the mountain, we've summited, and these stone structures are windmill bases and lookouts from long, long, long ago. 

The Lassithi Plateau has been inhabited since 6000 BC, the neolithic age,  and is reputed to be the last dwelling place of the Minoans. The spring run-off from the mountains ranges, and the quality of rock beneath the surfaces ensures that fresh water is just below the soil. We begin the drive completely around the Plateau, passing through 6 different villages. It is home to farmers - sheep, chickens, fruit trees, produce. It is very, very, very far from civilization.

In the mid 1980s, geneticists interested in the population began DNA testing based on DNA sampling  through analyzing the exhumed remains of The Minoans. The citizens who  live here have really been cut off, their first road did not arrive until the 1970s. Those DNA samples have shown extremely close similarities to the Minoans, leading researchers to believe that the population of the Lassithi  Plateau are the only direct descendants of the Minoans on the planet!

The windmills, from wooden to metal structures that have been in use for over 2000 years, to irrigate the fields and send the water to a nearby canal system feeding into a river that exits the plateau. All but a few of the windmills are in disuse now, farmers preferring their gas-generated pumps to do the same job in a fraction of the time.

Upon leaving the Plateau, we reminisce about the 1973 movie, Lost Horizon, and even look it up when we get home. We definitely had the feeling climbing through that mountain range and cresting that last hill, looking down over the verdant plateau in front of us, quiet, raptors soaring close by, that we had indeed come upon a ShangriLa. 

At Home in Apostoli

Ah, Apostoli, you've stolen our hearts. 

A village of 350, with no commerce, an active church, closed schools, the sounds of roosters and goat bells waking us every morn. One Taverna that serves the best lamb I've ever eaten - where I was the only woman in the place besides our waitress / cook. Raki: moonshine. Served in shot glasses to be sipped, a gesture of welcome by whoever offers it, and never to be refused.

The entry and exit road to Apostoli is lined with 60 year old Eucalyptus trees, planted in the 1950s by school students, one of them being the father of Manolis, our host, when he was 9 years old.

The town is crumbling. More empty than full, residents eking out an existence that to describe as tough, does not nearly give credit for the labour they go through. Narrow streets, houses jumbled together, chickens, dogs and cats everywhere, broccoli, cauliflower and potatoes planted in every patch of grass. Oranges. So many orange trees. Lemons. Homemade bread delivered to our door every second morning. The most gracious hosts.

We stood at this bus stop so many times, either going to Kastelli or into Heraklion. Curious drivers checking us out, village walkers and laundry ladies letting us know in Greek how long we'd have to wait. Everyone kind, everyone interested, striking up conversation wherever we were.

After 2 months of sightseeing, we arrived to this remote mountain village pretty drained, missing our kids. We'd purposely chosen this refuge as a recovery from Italy, as a  bridge to Greek history while  we prepare to go even further back in time for Egypt. We spent our first few days slowing down, relishing not having to navigate, breathing deeply, walking, reading, lots and lots of napping. We caught up on chores - finances, finishing our bookings, making decisions about what the rest of our trip would look like. Two great, and very long, Skype calls with our children. Marc spent so much time researching - flights, trains, connections, ferries, places we'd stay, must-sees. Our goal was to have the next 2 months booked by the time we left Apostoli - mission accomplished! Scarily, we also had to start looking at where we're going to live next and figure out how we're going to find that place. Nothing solved there, but we did give it a bit of a go!

Oh, and we squeezed in Netflix and NFL with the best blanket and heater on the best comfy daybed. Down time that was much, much needed.

Laundry days  (by hand)  in a wind that lasted 36 hours and felt like it would blow the roof off, bringing with it torrential rains, the first bad weather we've had. This night, our windows kept blowing open, Marc applied the laws of physics and wedged his shoe into the space between the curtain rod and window. Success. 

The Cobbler of Kastelli. This is a representative photo for a moment that was too touching to photograph. We landed in Heraklion and collected our luggage. The outer pocket of Marc's suitcase had been torn open, zipper busted,  toggley thing gone. Filed a report, but far too awkward to get back into the city and possibly have to leave the suitcase for repair or replacement. We thought we might be able to find someone to fix it. Checking with our host, no seamstress seemed available but there was a tailor in town. Marc went in to Kastelli for a haircut and started asking around, in very limited Greek. He was directed to the tailor who never seemed to be at work, but the post office lady next door was very encouraging! 

We went back the next day by bus,  suitcase in tow, and lo and behold the tailor was at his table, with 2 other men for company, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. No one spoke English. We explained the problem in hand signals and drawings, but he couldn't fix it for us. But the cobbler down the road probably could. Off we went. We enter this ancient shop, filled to the brim with shepherd boots that he makes by hand, a series of broken footwear at his feet, by his stool, on his table. He is shaping and gluing new soles to some tattered old shoes. He doesn't look up as we enter. 

We wait quietly until he is ready. No English. We show him the problem. He goes back to his sole-gluing. Marc gets worried but I let him know, "he's thinking, be patient". We wait till he finishes, and he glances at the suitcase, Marc starts his explanation again. He goes back to his work. We wait. He finishes his gluing, stands up, puts the suitcase on its side and begins to examine it. He looks up at us and smiles. Reworks the toggle off another zipper, opens up from the seams, attaches it, and gets his long shoe needle and begins to sew it tight with a wax yarn, ties off the ends, lights a flame to melt it solid. €5, and an insistence that we visit his wife's bakery across the street. Amazing moment.

Our host Manolis has 2 wooden boxes on his property, lined with metal. He calls them his Argon boxes. He's an energy healer besides being a farmer. We have no idea what this really is all about, but hey, Marc gives it a go. 

Twice Manolis takes us out to hear live, local music in a town 30 minutes away. This is a gift, for tourists would never know about it. These musicians played for 4 hours straight on this night,  traditional Greek songs on traditional instruments. The owner is an older woman who is the resident music teacher, and she has started this place to give musicians a place to play traditional songs. She cooks traditional food  for everyone too, and her children help serve. The crowd sang and danced traditional dances all night long. At the end, she got up to sing, the crowd hushed and the two laments she presented gave me shivers of beauty.

It was a magical 2 weeks. Of course we had power outages and water problems, no hot water for the first 6 days. But, we have always been good at roughing it. Your days change at that level of simplicity. And it was all good.

Our little home. We left our 2 books as part of the growing multilingual library. Me, Miriam Toews, a story about a Candian town only slightly bigger than Apostoli, and Marc, his Mythology refresher book. We loved this place, and our host family, who were so very, very generous. We had dinner with  them in their home twice, once with another couple where we had a lovely night of English conversation finding out about each other's country. Bye bye Apostoli!

Just so you don't think it's all olive groves and tzatziki here in small town Crete. We've been in our little mountainside hut for just over a week now, and the day before we arrived, something along the town's water supply line broke, cutting everyone off. The townsmen have been pooling their talents and tools all week to identify the break, innovate the pieces needed to try and fix it. Every other day, power outages last from between 4-8 hours. The only mention of Municipal assistance in tackling these issues has been "there's no money and every town goes through this with ancient infrastructures. It's so hard!"

Our AirBnB host, a family of 4, is working so hard to keep us and his family supplied with water. Manolis drives to his farm well to fill up a massive tank and delivers it home, repositioning the tank on his roof so gravity can help. Water is heated by solar panels, but with the line break, it has caused other breaks to the heating supply.

The struggle in daily life in rural Greece is real, folks. And we've gotta stay flexible! The warmth and kindness of the Cretan people more than make up for our inconvenience.

...and so we say goodbye to this beautiful valley, our last 2 weeks full of hikes, bikes, taverna music, quiet and the finishing bookings for Feb / March. We move to the coast for a few days before onward to Athens. Crete! Gorgeous.

Biking in Rural Crete

One of the many reasons that we booked this remote, rural farm, is the chance to do some biking. Our hosts list 2 bikes, ready and able to go. We had some delays with flat tires and mismatched air pumps, repair pieces hard to come by in this rural spot. To be sure, we've booked in the off-season when the bikes have been long-put to storage. And bear in mind the whole time we are trying to get biking, our host Manolis is working on a broken water system for the town, trying to keep us and his family filled with water, all while working his own 4 plots of land and selling in the Heraklion market 3 days per week! So, we are patient, happy to hike, read, snooze, and by our 5th day the bikes are ready. Thank God, without them, we were quite stuck for this type of adventure!

Our first ride has us going to Thrapsanos, the village in the distance we can see that has a freshwater lake just before it. We've watched the ant-like cars wind their way through the valley so we know that it is flat, with no killer hills, which I hate! The road is lined with olive groves and vineyards all managed by hand.

We choose a beautiful day, with picnic lunch, thermos of tea and coffee, a light breeze and 15 degree temperatures. It is absolutely invigorating to be on the road! We are giggling at our great fortune. Bike riding through olive groves on Crete!

It's only a 5 km ride to Thrapsanos, and we come upon the lake quite quickly. It's about the size  of Musie Pond, and as soon as we pull up, the ducks and geese come. We think they've come to expect a public with food offerings, they come so quickly. There has been stonework done around the lake, walls, walking paths, picnic areas, an arboretum planted, but it's all neglected and overgrown,

crumbling. We find out later that again, the money has dried up, and someone introduced Koi goldfish into the lake and now all the feeder species are gone. The Municipality is researching ways to get rid of the Koi without poison.

Another day, we ride into Kastelli for groceries, another 5km one way, and we pass by this little roadside church which Marc spied one day on his WALK home from Kastelli, having missed the one afternoon bus. It's a tiny, ancient structure, with benches, saintly icons, prayer books, votives, a broom. Someone obviously cares for the place, there is a candle lit. Villages have 10s of churches, smaller chapels and roadside shrines. And yes, the older, black-shrouded women pass by uttering their prayers and blessing themselves.

Bottom left is the larger church  and the graveyard in Kastelli. Cretans bury their dead above ground, with traditions of photos, amulets, trinkets, oil wicks burning, plastic flowers, and at the head of each grave is a glass compartment where cleaning supplies are kept. 

The even larger church in Thrapsanos.

The rural Economies rely on innovative ideas to keep tourists coming and money flowing. Interior Crete is not nearly as visited as the northern coastal towns,  which are filled with resorts for the sun-seeker, both Grecian and International. Pottery has always played a big role in Cretan arts, dating
back to the Neolithic times and the Minoans. We pass by a series of abandoned cement buildings with great paved lots, wired with electricity, some with glass windows,  seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We come to know this was a project that ran out of money, a pottery museum, the art of clay pottery is alive and well in these villages. 

Our picnic spot today. What once was a thriving lake area, complete with arboretum, stone paths, benches and picnic tables is now an abandoned overgrown mess. I find the largest lavender plant ever, Marc bush whacks his way to  a bench. While eating, we get spied by a gaggle of circling birds, hawk-like, one flies low over our heads with prey in its talons, Marc can feel the whoosh of wings rustle his hair. They are startled to find us there, the prey sees his moment and escapes. A beautiful few days of biking!

Hikes in Rural Crete

Right out our door, endless hiking, and running for Marc. A very peaceful two weeks in Apostoli, taking advantage of the landscape as we wind our way through small-scale olive groves and vineyards, sunshine for the first 10 days and temperatures averaging 12-15 degrees Celsius. 

Here, local workers finish the olive harvest by hand. Marc came upon these guys while out for his first exploratory run, and they let him help! No English, all learned via sign language.

Part of the vista from our front door. In 2 weeks, we never tired of looking out over this valley, and rarely did it ever look the same. Towards the end of our stay, the temperatures dropped and rains arrived, and the mountains had snow. The square structures along the ridge are ancient markers, and perhaps shelters made of stone for the many shepherds who still guide their sheep and goat flocks through these ranges on a daily basis.

We played a fun Facebook game of "Find Marc!" On our first full day, I went for a short hike up behind the house while Marc opted to read on the roof patio of our apartment. If you look way down in the bottom left, you can see a rooftop railing, and where it meets a corner, there's a blue figure with a yellow strip across his back, which is the backrest of the patio chair. That's Marc!

Small-scale olive groves in this valley and up behind our house. The earth is very very red, almost like PEI. We're not sure if different varieties of olives grow in different soil, because not only are they in the lush valley, they are also all along the mountainside, in places lunar-like in the rocky scrub, growing just fine. All olives are grown for oil, and you'll find 10x10 rows, then a vineyard planting, with that pattern repeated for large swaths of land.  Al. Of the ground is covered in a clover-like ground cover, with beautiful yellow flowers popping their blooms up above the fray.

What do they find to eat?

An olive branch: hard as stone and very bitter. Almost every home has attempts at self-sufficiency in these economic times for Greece, whether it's chickens, sheep, goats, oranges, lemons, cauliflower, broccoli or potatoes. The village of Apostoli is increasingly relying on the barter system of food for families to sustain themselves.

Lunar!

A gorgeous day hike where we figured out the timer on our camera. 

Iraklio Port, Crete

Iraklio, or in English Heraklion, is our arrival point into Greece from Italy. It's a short flight from Naples, easy, peasy. We have planned to follow temperatures south during this trip, and the island of Crete is the furthest south we can get within the EU. Upon stepping out of the airport, we are rewarded with a 5-8 degree Celsius warmth increase from Naples. Happy!  We take a cab to our next AirBNB apartment, get in no problem, we have everything we need, including the 52 stairs up. Oh well, Marc handles our bags, God bless him. View from our balcony, love the surprise of the mountain ranges surrounding us, some with snow, and the view of the Venetian Wall that encloses the old city.

It's a much quieter city than Naples!, and we spent time on our balcony watching life go by, Greek beer and wine, tea, food. We notice the water and heating systems atop every roof, wondering if it's pumped from the ground. Over the coming weeks we'll figure it out, but yes, solar panels are everywhere!

We head out for our dinner and end up with one of the best souvlakis ever, from a fast food joint on the corner, we pass by a fencing school with teenagers working out, wander for a short while before heading back in for bed. Transitioning countries and historical time periods -we've now moved into BC territory - on this next leg requires a whole mental re-set!  We awake refreshed, head out for groceries and then down to the port, a lovely 15 minute walk through quiet, white-washed streets. Iraklio is home to 200,000 people, is the largest city on Crete with a bustling port.

On our way, we come through the main square, a Christmas Market. Talk to a guy who's booth is a 3-D printer, and he'll make you into a plastic figuring in 2 days! We realize it's an opportunity, but we're not here long enough. The second spot is the skating rink! Not ice, but skates.

The first port building we spy thrills us with a depiction of Daedalus and his son Icarus flying, Icarus obviously on his way down. This is the 3-storey image that greets every ship coming into port.

We walk around the harbour, loving being on the Aegean Sea. Unbelievable really, as all our new-city arrivals have been to date! Many, many times on this trip we've pinched each other, literally or figuratively and said, "Can you believe it?"

Marc spies this old dog and declares that it might be the sister of The Aphia, his dad's boat, with many a tale attached to it.

Definitely a working harbour. 

A long, long stone pier and castle protect the harbour from the sea. A relic from the Venetian era, we are happy to recognize lion and eagle emblems, and some similar design traits to what we've already seen it Italy. It is not in use, seems to be restoration going on, but whether that is current and active, we're not really sure.

Lovely picnic spot for this day! 

Our grocery shop is a little more difficult in Iraklion, not as much English on packaging as there was in Italy. Produce is fresh, can't find olives!, and the 13-23% tax on every food item is a bit of a shocker. €66 for 3 days worth of food is our biggest grocery bill to date!