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Canary Island Update - La Palma

La Gomera is a beautiful island everywhere you go and all the hikes are scenic. The trails can be quite rugged and there’s always a big climb to start the day if you set out from anywhere near the sea. The leeward side of the island is arid and desert like while the windward is green and often brushed over with fog like clouds. The dry side can by hot and balmy while the other side can be cool and chilly.

On one day I intended to do a hike out of Vallehermoso but it was cloudy and cold so I just kept driving around to San Sebastian where I was able to hike in brilliant sun all day. You don’t really need a car on La Gomera but it does add flexibility and saves quite a bit of time. The buses are perfectly adequate and workable as long as your attentive to the scheduling which can be limited.

On one day I sufficed to take it easy and just walked around the villages of Valle Gran Rey and Vueltas. I bought a ferry ticket for the Island of La Palma. Every Island has it unique differences.

The drawback for me in Valle Gran Rey is that I find it to be a difficult place to meet people and strike up a conversation. The crowd that stays over in Valle Gran Rey is almost exclusively German. Germans are not the most approachable nor the easiest to chat with. They tend to cluster together with dead pan expressions while simply observing what’s around them. However, they are a well behaved lot. As is the case with most parts of the world these days younger folks speak pretty good English but not so much for the older people. Given that that most of the Germans are older in Valle Gran Rey there is a bit of a language barrier. There’s an old saying that Germans are hard on the outside and soft in the middle. They just take a little more time and effort to get to know.

After 12 nights on the island of Gomera I ferried over to La Palma. Also known as Isla Bonita. For me the first three days were not so bonita.

You would think stepping off the ferry onto La Palma might be a lot of fun considering I was arriving at the beginning of the busiest weekend of Carnival. I suppose had I been up for a raucous drunken couple of all nighters I’d be psyched but really I don’t much care for crowds and drunks. True, Carnival is more than that but I needed to get sorted first.

Well, everything was booked on the island and accommodation cost were grossly inflated. I think I found the last available rental car and figured if I got far enough away from the main city of Santa Cruz I find some kind of reasonable accommodation. Not so.

Instead, I found a good spot to park the car in Port Naos for the night and slept in my compact rental vehicle. To top it off an extreme wind storm full of African dust blew in and settled over the island with a thick haze. La Calima as they call it.

By time my second night on the island rolled around I found an overpriced apartment available due to a cancellation because the airport was closed. In my overtired stressed state I took the room but immediately after paying I noticed it had a strong strange odor. No more than 10 minutes had passed when I asked for a refund. The owner was not sympathetic at all and refused my request. He could care less. He had my money. It was my own damn fault for taking the room in the first place and not being more careful. Bone head decisions are a risk when overtired and not thinking clearly.

However, the room was clean. I did get a shower and some sleep with the windows and door open which helped. I made the most of it. For the third night it was back in the car at Port Naos.

My third night on the Island was the end of the biggest Carnival weekend so I got on the net and booked out my remaining nights in the Canary Islands. Once sorted I focused on the hiking and things have gotten better since.

Two nights in a pension located in Los Canrios where I day hiked moonscape down to Faro de Fuencaliente with a side trip up Volcan Teneguia. From there it was on to Mazo where I booked into an apartment for 4 nights with a grand view for forty euro a night.

The two days I’ve spent hiking in Parque Nacional de la Caldera Taburiente have been top notch with clear skies and splendid views. The African dust and haze had left for the time being. Both days were spent hiking along the rim of the roof of the Island. The loop I did over Pico Bejando was absolutely serene.

La Palma is not a flat island at all and is entirely volcanic so every hike is either up, down, or both. With tired legs I was content simply walking around the old colonial city of Santa Cruz, the main city, today. I found it curiously interesting the 1:1 scale Santa Maria replica turned maritime museum. Columbus was a gutsy guy. The Santa Maria was not that big! And, the Nina and Pinta were smaller.

Of course I’ve worked in a little beach time. I quite fancy Tazacorte. It’s a seaside tourist village of sorts where you can get in a cool swim off a black sand beach and follow it up with a nice Menu Del Dia fish dinner. A beer, bread, fish, salad, potatoes with mojo, and a coffee for 10 euros. The Canary Islands are known for their mojo sauce. One is red and one is green. I have no idea what’s in it but it’s so good! It appears to be a mix of olive oil, peppers and spices of some sort and is made to put mainly on potatoes but bread as well.

In a couple of days I’ll fly back to Tenerife for a short bit to wrap up this trip.

Canary Islands

I felt pretty good about the trip from Dallas to Madrid. The flight was super easy. I had a window seat aboard the Boeing 787 Dreamliner with the middle being empty. The guy on the aisle was from Denver, probably in his 40’s, and very sociable. In the summer he runs a company that does craft beer oriented tours through Italy. On this trip he was on his way to Madrid to spend a couple of weeks with his brother who now resides in the Spanish city.

I changed planes in Madrid with a 2 ½ hour layover. All three connections were smooth and on schedule but by time all the luggage was unloaded in Tenerife my pack was nowhere to be found. All I had on me was a small day pack with a mini laptop and a few inconsequential items.

I filed a lost luggage claim and hopped a bus to Puerto de la Cruz. Upon arrival I quite easily and intuitively found my hotel, checked in, and went for a walk.

Peurto de la Cruz is not a bad place and quite scenic but super touristy. It’s a hot spot for old Europeans to escape the gray and gloom of a the North European winter. The crowd is mostly made up of Germans and Brits along with some French, Dutch, and misc. There are virtually no Americans whatsoever. I thought I noticed one American couple in a restaurant as they were very intent on tipping the waiter. There's a distinctly noticeable lack of younger folk. The crowd reminded of some seaside places you find in South Florida.

The hotel in which I was staying had a wonderful rooftop but aside of that fell a bit short of my low expectations. It was old and of concrete construction which is very common throughout southern Europe. The downside is that concrete buildings, if not designed and configured right, do a wonderful job echoing sound as it bounces off marble or tile flooring. I was on the top floor, in the back, away from the elevator, which wasn’t bad but I could still hear the smoker with a morning hack down the hall. Fortunately the property was non smoking. I was booked in for 4 nights.

Trips to and from the airport, a call back to American Airlines in the USA, a lot of wandering around, a couple of runs and one night of a bit too much to drink. It seemed like a long few days before four nights had passed. Still no pack. At that point I assumed it was gone and had spun into an apathetic travel funk. I pondered the meaning of my existence in the real world and that of the persona “World Traveler and Thinker”. I felt like going home. Weren’t there more constructive things I could be doing? In the meantime I had bought some clothes, a jacket, and misc necessities. On the flip side I felt inspired by how little I could get by on. I decided to wait one more day before letting go of the pack for good and hopping a ferry to another Island.

As luck would have it my pack arrived on day five. On day six I bid farewell to the moderately dumpy hotel in which I had grown to like. I hopped one bus back to the airport for my bag then another to Los Cristianos for a ferry to La Gomera. When I retrieved my pack I stuffed it with the new replacement clothing and necessities I had recently bought which made for a jammed full mess of burden to shoulder.

It’s only an hour ferry ride to the Island of La Gomera. As with all of the Canary Islands it’s a chunk of volcanic made land mass. The island is riddled with trails leftover from hundreds of years donkey trials and foot paths made to get from one place to another. On La Gomera many of the trails have been improved to attract hikers for tourism so you can literally hike all over the Island. One side of the Island is lush and green while the other sided is arid and dry. The top hosts a cloud forest which remains pleasant and cool year round. The year round weather is mostly spring like with little variation.

I arrived in La Gomera in the port of San Sebastian which was Christopher Columbus’s last stop before heading over to the new world. I checked into a cheap traditional Spanish Pension and ordered a local dish of tuna in some sort of sauce with potatoes. I had no sooner received my food and started to eat when some overly friendly guy approached me from a side door talking fast in Spanish and asking me questions. “Was I German? Was I Swiss?” I replied I was Texan and he expressed an over the top positive reaction and shook my hand vigorously. Right at that point a young British girl stepped in with a guitar in her hand dressed like a hippy gypsy and asked me where she can find a cash machine. She then engaged a conversation. By this time I was getting a little irritated as I had barely started my dinner. We chatted a short bit then she walked off. My immediate reaction at that moment was, “Oh shit, where’s my day pack!”. Fortunately it was still with me.

Maybe the guy was a local who was a little tipsy and overly friendly while the girl was simply a girl looking for a cash machine but I kind of doubt it. I was in an area where there were plenty of cash machines. You would be have to be blind not to find one. Regardless, this is how people get ripped off. The ‘ol distraction routine. If anyone ever approaches you out of the blue and is overly friendly the first reaction should be to guard your stuff and hold on to the money belt. For me my pack was in a good spot and the three girls working the restaurant seemed pretty sharp and were to my back so they were probably watching what was going on. There was likely one or two others involved that were no where to be seen. Hit up a couple of tourist then hop the next ferry off the island. The person holding the bag turns out to have never been seen at all. So, catch the two doing the distracting and you find nothing. I’ll take it as a wake up call. It can all happen so fast and the key is to catch you off guard.

I stayed three nights in San Sebastian and spent my first couple of days hiking. I wanted to shake the funk I seemed to be in. Burned out from work, jet lag, and a general feeling of out of sorts combined with lost pack made for an unequable start to the journey.

After 3 nights in San Sebastian I debated what to do but decided to rent a car for a week. The Island is quite small and has a good bus system but the bus doesn’t go everywhere and the schedule is limited. At 22 euros a day fully insured it took no longer than about 3 minutes to rent a car. One piece of paper and one signature. When in Europe or thereabouts I suggest renting the cheapest standard shift Fiat you can. For whatever reason I find them to be very fun to drive and perfectly suited for narrow streets and easy parking.

So, I drove around the Island passing through villages while seeking a desired vibe. The arid beach side village of Valle Gran Rey appealed to me but felt a little hunkered down and congested. The village of La Calera that sits above looked more like what I was looking for.

Valle Gran Rey is very popular with Germans and a few hippies. This is considered high season for the area so I had to walk around and inquire a bit before I located an option but I found just what I had in mind. It’s an apartment situated in the old town of La Calera. La Calera is on the side of a mountain so my place has a marvelous view of the sea. For me it’s perfect so I booked in for a week.

I hike and walk all day, take a swim in the sea in the evening and drink a beer while a crowd gathers to listen to old hippies play drums on the beach as the sun sets. Things have fallen into place nicely for the moment and I feel like my old traveling self. However, I do feel a little older and that my relationship with travel has changed a bit. It makes me question my approach and how it fits in with my current life stage.

Athens To England

Thursday July 11

To be honest my attitude kind of turned fowl by evening time in Paros. I walked in to a very old church to view some ancient frescoes but left because a holy place is not a place for a crappy mood. My mood didn’t improve much back at the hotel and a sore throat wasn’t helping so I called it day, put in the earplugs, and settled in for a lousy nights sleep.

A morning run usually helps to reset the mind-frame and today was no different as I ran up and down the waterfront. Cloudy skies were actually kind of a nice change as it took the edge off the sun’s intensity and kicked up a little breeze. I hadn’t seen a cloudy morning for over 3 weeks. Paros is ok. Definitely more relaxed than Santorini but far less impressive as far as natural beauty goes. The old town is fairly standard for these parts and hosts a typical busy waterfront lined with restaurants and shops.

After the run I showered, got my stuff together, turned in the key, and went to bakery that I noticed while running. Running is such a great way to suss out and get the lay of the land quickly.

The bakery was the kind you want to find. Although located along the touristy waterfront the prices are based on what locals normally pay and the products are good. Breads, pastries, pizzas etc. Lots of variety. A euro or two for a pastry. One and half euro for an excellent coffee. There were groups of older local people that appeared to be regulars sitting around the front tables. People were coming and going, locals and tourist. The place was doing a booming business. The staff, I assume was all family, came across as genuine and attentive.

Never underestimate the power of a good product with a fair price combined with honest hard work. Too many businesses in touristy areas focus more on trying to take advantage of visitors who they assume will never return anyway. Playing the local price / tourist price game is bullshit in my opinion as well as bad karma. There’s a lot of it going on in Greece. Sure, you may get away with it for awhile but in the long run people catch on. Why are some places busy all the time while a similar business next door is empty. Get it? A couple of Greeks have told me that Greeks are getting greedy. Sell a quality product for a little less and sell a lot more. In the end you come out way ahead because of greater sales numbers and repeat customers. Simple economics.

At this point I’ve had my fill and am happy to leave the islands. The ferry from Paros to Athens is a nice big ship. The ferry from Santorini to Paros was a smaller catamaran that stopped at every bump along the way. I always try to go for the big ship ferries if possible. They are a lot more comfortable and there’s plenty of room for everyone to spread out. You can go for a walk, check out the view from different angles and comfortably spend time outside. The catamarans tend to be kind of cramped and crowded with only a small deck on the back to get a little fresh air mixed with cigarette smoke and diesel exhaust. However, if you got to get somewhere quick the high speed direct cats are the way to go.

As I write this segment I’m on the ferry to Athens and the seas are kind of rough but the big boat is plowing through the swells with ease. Another reason to take a big ship.

Friday July 12

Breezed through Athens. Finding my way from the ferry port to the hotel I booked was easy via the Metro. The hotel was good but I slept poorly due to a sore throat. Just one night in Athens.

It was a long day of travel from Athens to London to a village in the English countryside where I met back up with my friend Debbie for a few days. The Friday train out of London to Peterborough was late and jammed packed. Why did I bother buying an overpriced ticket? There were no available seats, the station stiles were open, and no one checking tickets. I rode pressed up against a door in a foyer between coaches with no air con, no ventilation, and windows that could not be opened. Fortunately it was only a 45 min trip. I was wiped out when I arrived after 13+ hours of travel.

Tuesday July 16

The past four days passed very quickly. Deb’s father is doing well and we had time to more or less kick around. On Sunday Deb, her Dad, and myself went to a nice pub for a fabulous Sunday roast of lamb and vegetables. The food was of high quality, portions large and I’d have to say it was probably the best British Sunday roast I have ever had.

This morning I awoke to a clear blue sky and went for a run upon the trails of a nearby forest. The light was really nice and the forest greens were accentuated by it. I was wishing I had another week. I might have been able to a pay a ticket change fee depending on availability but it’s high season now and everything was already set for me to fly home tomorrow. So, that’s what I’m doing. There are things that need to be taken care of at home but I feel kind of split between two worlds at this moment. Sometimes I’m ready to go home when the time comes and sometimes I could go longer. This time I feel like I just need to take care of things at home so that’s why I’m returning now as planned.

The travel from Peterborough to London was easy today. Totally different from Friday. I was able to book a room at Heathrow Terminal four with hotel points I had earned with a credit card. It’s a really nice Holiday Inn Express but the cafe food is absolutely horrible. At least what I ordered. I can’t believe I paid 10 pounds for what I got and that I actually ate it. I’ll be sure to leave a poor review for the cafe but the room is excellent.

Hopping Ferries To Athens

So now I'm hopping ferries to Athens... Ugghhhh… The ferry port at Santorini was absolute tourist hell when I arrived. It sits at the bottom a large bay formed by a long steep and almost cliff like mountain ridge. It’s quite spectacular but the small port at the bottom is jammed with tour buses, tour operators, and tourists waiting to board the ferry your getting off.

The first thing I felt when arriving on the island of Santorini by ferry is stress. It’s in the air. What the hell had I done I asked myself? I did a good job of finding the chill sweet spots all throughout Crete but there I was booked in for 3 nights. And the touts? Plenty. I was told I needed a rental car or a 20 euro private transfer etc. No. I went into backpacker 101 mode. Where’s the local bus? 2 euros and I was out of there. Well, slowly, as we chugged up the very steep road barely clearing the long line of cars and buses going down but not moving. There must be some kind of system because I couldn’t figure out how the traffic was supposed to work much less where there would be room for it.

Santorini is a NOT an inexpensive destination. With high season just beginning I whimsically booked the cheapest private single room I could find online which is around $47 USD a night. It looked ok and the reviews were fine.

It took two local buses close to 2 hours to get Perissa beach where my accommodation is. The main road into Perissa is busy with traffic. There are lots of cars, motorcycles, trucks, four wheelers, and it’s all very loud. I saw the hostel where I was supposed to check in as we passed it on the way to the bus stop. When I arrived at the hostel, which is located right next to the busy road, there was miscommunication because of all the noise. The room I booked was not at the hostel. They simply have a scheme with a nearby hotel but I was at the right place for check in. A nice older fellow arrived and drove me about a quarter of mile further out of town to a place located right next to the busy road.

Well luck was bestowed on me. The hotel is comprised of two buildings. My room is located in the back of second building which is a reasonable distance from the road. It’s a corner room with balcony. The view is decent. As I sit on the balcony I can hear constant traffic but it’s just far enough away to be quite tolerable. The room is ok. Fine for 3 nights.

Happy that my room was acceptable I went to water front. Its about a 15 minute walk to the beach and with black sand it’s kind of nice. I found a traditional taverna and ordered a very good local pasta and Greek salad. I had the Poseidon spaghetti thinking it would have seafood but instead it was sausage and ham. I washed it down with a beer and went for a swim in the sea which really took the edge off.

Every island has a different vibe and in some ways every island is like its own little country. Santorini is full throttle tourism. It’s what drives the island. It caters to an international crowd and spoken English is the norm. English is the international language and its the language that gets the most money. If you can get beyond the crowds of tourists and all that goes with it the island is quite beautiful and the cliff strewn bay towards the west is quite spectacular. Geologically speaking it’s a bit of a marvel.

I spent my second day on the island walking/hiking. I started from Perissa beach and took trails over the highest peak and down to Pirgos. From Pirgos I took a bus to Fira and walked to Oia which was quite nice once I got out of the crowds swarming about Fira. For the most part is was a good walk and quite scenic. I essentially traversed the island.

In Oia I had to take the public bus to get back to Perissa. I was lucky to get on because it was packed. The driver disregarded the people waiting along the way at other stops as the bus was full. You could see the frustration in their face as we blew past them. Who knows how long they had been waiting. Fortunately I timed it right and was able to switch quickly in Fira for a direct bust to Perissa. The walk had been worthwhile but the crowded buses and narrow roads chocked with traffic made me not want to go anywhere for my third and last day on Santorini. I stuck close to the beach, walked around and made arrangements to leave the island the following day. Three days was enough for me.

So, I was left with two days to get to Athens for a flight to London. Today I used up one of those days on a ferry to the island of Paros for a single night layover en-route to Athens. That’s where I am now. I booked ahead to keep things easy. The accommodation is nice but noisy. I can hear the people beside, below me, and at the balcony next door. Why talk when you can shout? There are kids in the room below and I can hear one scream periodically. I call July and August the screaming season. Whenever you are in a crowded touristy area in the summer I guarantee you will always hear a kid screaming. Not to mention there’s an occasional dog bark, someone coughing somewhere, excessively loud pipes, and the ever so common banging door. The room is nice and clean though.

The manager of the small family run hotel met me at the ferry when I arrived an hour and a half late which was nice. Check in was very easy. I went for a swim which was pretty good then had dinner at a taverna the hotel manager recommended. It turned out to be the most disappointing meal I’ve had so far. Portions were small and tasteless which added up to way overpriced. I felt took. It’s probably a friend or family members taverna. Sometimes you need to be careful about local suggestions in the tourist areas. Locals are most likely to suggest restaurants based on relation to family or friend and not because it’s necessarily good. Most of the time your better off deciding for yourself or look up tripadvisor reviews whenever possible. When I returned to the hotel I had no problem telling the manager how disappointed I was with his suggestion and told him to be careful about recommending the restaurant to other guests because it makes him look bad.

More than anything I think I’m simply tired at this point and don’t really have patience for the touristy scene and the B.S. that goes along with it. I feel run down and have a sore throat. I seem to be little over sensitive to noise which for me is a sign I’m stressed. I’ve just got a couple of more days in the tourist rat race and I’ll be out of it. I think I got a little spoiled on Crete. I was able to find a nice balance the entire time I was there. Should have just stayed on Crete.

On Friday I’ll fly to London for a few days in England then I’ll fly home. As for tonight? One word, Earplugs.

Hotel Poseidon

From the Nida Plateau/Valley it’s literally a downhill coast all the way to Heraklion. It was time to turn in the car and the replacement Fiat Seicento S performed well. The Fiat was actually kind of fun to drive and it was very easy on gas which is good when a U.S. gallon totals up to about 8 bucks.

Heraklion is where I originally flew into Crete. The morning after the first time arriving I went for a run along the waterfront past the ferry port. I noticed an old hotel atop a hill overlooking the port that looked like of cool. I searched for it on the net and it had decent reviews. With a price of 35 euro a night I booked in at the Hotel Poseidon for my return. I figured I’d drive there, check in, then call George to turn in the car.

The Hotel Poseidon was built in 1962 with an extra floor atop added a little later. The construction, like most buildings in Greece, is a simple concrete design with balconies for each room. Over the years the property has been reasonably well maintained but not too much in the way of updates which gives it a nice retro feel. It’s a little like stepping back in time which I really like and the place just has a good vibe. The counter at check in looked 1970’s, the common room looked 60’s as well as the breakfast area.

The hotel has always been a family run business and the staff is super nice and friendly. Very genuine. Everyone I conversed with spoke good English. My room was very simple with a small bathroom, decent bed, and fully functioning air conditioner. The hotel is located right beneath the flight path for the airport so it gets a little noisy with jets flying over during the day but from my balcony I thought it was kind of cool. The noise was not a problem at night.

Anyway, once I got situated the hotel I called George from the front desk and he offered to escort me via scooter to a place I could park near his office. George was happy to see me and asked about my trip. He said I must have a coffee with him but being evening time I asked if I could have a beer instead. He replied, “Of course!”

Back at the office I visited with George for awhile and we talked about various subjects. He told me about the economic problems with Greece, the banks, and taxes. He said it was really hard to get ahead with overhead and taxes. I had already paid George for one week but owed him for two more. I told him I could pay cash which he really appreciated and I didn’t ask for a receipt. George is a good man. I get it.

After settling up with George and getting something to eat he gave me ride back to the hotel. We parted with laughter, smiles and a handshake. In the end everything had worked out well and if I need to rent a vehicle again in Crete I’ll go back to George.

I really liked the Hotel Poseidon. I felt like taking a layover in Heraklion because I was little tired and the city was sort of growing on me for some reason so I booked in for 1 extra night. I wasn’t ready to hop a ferry off of Crete just yet.

For the my last day in Crete, aside of a good morning run, I took it easy, bought a ferry ticket and sat out on the balcony watching ships, low flying jets, and the sea.

Psiloritis - Mt Timios Stavros

Psiloritis is more or less a large mountain massif in the middle of Crete that comprises more than one peak. The highest, Timios Stavros, is the tallest point on the island at around 8,200 feet. I like visiting the high points on every Island I visit. Some have nice trails, others have no trail, and a few have a road up to a view point or radio tower. To get to the top of Psiloritis it’s an honest to goodness hike on rugged trials.

There are number of hiking routes. One is fairly direct and starts from a ski area parking lot about 2,800 ft below the summit and is a straight forward grunt to the top. Another route begins at Nida Plateau which is really a valley at about 4,500 ft. The route skirts around the south of the massif while ascending a couple of gullies to the eastern ridge. The route then swings around to the north side for an ascending traverse west to the summit. It’s a much more interesting hike that takes in more of the area. The route is very well marked and part of a hiking trail known as the E20. It’s about a 20km round trip which for me is a perfect distance for a full day hike.

I got an early start and left the trailhead around 7 am. The temperature was very nice and with the elevation heat was never an issue for me. The first thing I noticed were the herds of goats and sheep everywhere. Many were wearing bells so I could hear the clanking all over in the distance. I also heard a couple of barking dogs which kept me aware as I didn’t want to surprise or run into one too close. Some dogs are very protective of the heard and I got a little rattled on the drive up when a large German Shepard ran right out in front of me. Fortunately I saw it in time to swerve away. I nearly hit it and it did not look like a friendly dog.

The trail, although rugged, was well marked and easy to follow. I had a good map as well. I didn’t see anyone until about an hour into it. I saw three young guys get dropped off by a truck that had ascended to the end of a four wheel drive road. I waved to them and we met. One of the guys spoke very limited English but said he had a herd up high on the mountain. I showed him on my map where I was going and he told me to follow them. I walked with them for a little while but the trail was easy to follow and I couldn’t figure out if they were going to the top or to the herd. I wasn’t sure and was hiking a little faster so I moved on.

I crossed a couple of good sized patches of snow which contrasted the heat I felt while hiking near the sea. The weather was perfect and I was moving pretty quickly. Once I reached the east ridge the view really opened up and I could see the highest summit in the distance with a stone chapel built on top. I passed the intersection with the trail from the ski area parking lot and could see a group below ascending. As I neared the summit the winds really picked up but I found reprieve on the south side of the stone chapel. Needless to say the 360 degree view was splendid. I rested for a little while.

It wasn’t until I headed down that I saw the group of three young guys again. They were indeed heading to the summit and were very close. I also ran into the group that had ascended via the other route. Form that point on I only saw one other person and plenty of sheep and goats before arriving back at my car.

The one other person was a shepherd who spoke good English and did not look Greek at all. He was quick to tell me he was from Pakistan. I told him I from Texas. I’ve more or less quit telling people I’m from America or the United States. It’s too controversial. Saying your from Texas comes across better. Everyone has heard of Texas and the first thing they think of is cowboys and horses. Who doesn’t like cowboys and horses?

Anyway, I was having a nice chat with the Pakastani shepherd until he started talking about how tourists are rich and how the Greeks take advantage of the tourist. I knew he was leading into something. He then asked me if I had a phone card so he could call his family. Well, I honestly have no phone card. I’m not even traveling with a phone. With the request flashbacks of Asian touts and cons came to mind which made me feel like I needed to hike on. So I did. About a mile down the trail I thought about it and sort of wished I’d given the guy a little money. I’m sure he’s not being paid well and he struck me as kind of lonely. I think there was a good chance his request was sincere but it’s hard to tell sometimes. I was the only person he had seen all day.

Near the end of the hike I added a little side trip to a cave that is somehow affiliated with Zeus. It seems like just about every cave in Greece has some kind of Zeus connection and is very important. What I found was an abandoned ticket booth, man made steps and a viewing area at the large open entrance. It looked like at some point in time they tried to make it a tourist attraction but it didn’t take off. The taverna at the start of the hike was abandoned as well.

A reasonably fit hiker like myself can make it up to top of Timios Stavros in around 3 hours. It takes about about the same amount for coming down. Add in some breaks, time at top, and a chat with a shepherd and you have a full day.

In the end it was an awesome hike and a nice way to wrap up my time on Crete. Back at the car I coasted down to Hearklion. It was time to turn in the Fiat Seicento S.

Matala

I was ready to leave Gavdos when Monday arrived and it was amazing how much the seas calmed overnight. It was a smooth crossing back to the mainland of Crete and the village of Hora Sfakion. Since it was already late in the evening I wasted no time and took the first hotel I looked at. It seems like 35 to 40 euro is a standard price, at this time of year, for one person in a hotel room. If you bargain they will sometimes go down 5 euro and maybe even 10. I use to always bargain but now my attitude is if I feel like it’s a fair deal and I’m ok with it, I don’t bargain. It’s a seasonal business in this part of the world and people are not that well off so I just assume not taking advantage of the situation. I guess it’s my way of paying it forward. There’s a time to bargain and a time to be fine with the asking price. Overall, the cost of traveling Greece is very affordable, reasonable and sometimes cheap. Of course the hot trendy spots are just as expensive as any other posh destination.

From Hora Sfakion I drove a scenic route and wound up in the former hippy village turned tourist destination beach town of Matala. Hippies use to live in the sandstone caves above the beach. Before that, in ancient times, the caves were used for burial. Today the caves are a tourist attraction. Cliffs and caves to the north, appealing beach, and village dwellings stacked up around towards the south make for a pleasant setting. The tourist shops don’t detract too much.

Since I had time I took my time looking for accommodation for the night. I wound up paying a little more because the standard was high and my gut was telling me that’s were I needed to be. 50 euros with a good breakfast included.

The next morning, at breakfast, there was one other person so it was easy to strike up a conversation. Elena is from Moscow and I suspect in her 40’s. She had been traveling with relatives but was now traveling on her own. Her English, with a prominent Russian accent, was pretty good so we were able to converse ok. Since neither one of us had any plans we decided to spend the day together. First a swim in the sea, lunch, a short afternoon hike over to Red Beach for another swim then dinner. It was really nice to have company for a day.

You can only get to Redd beach by foot or boat. It’s kind of a hippy beach. There’s a makeshift business there that serves drinks and snacks. The guy running it is a nut case and claims to make the best Mojito in the world. Elena asked about the ingredients and he appeared to get angry. Something about it being a secret. I told Elena to wait and order once back in town but she decided to try one anyway.

She made it through two small sips and couldn’t stomach the rest. I suspect the rum is crap. In the meantime the owner seemed to oscillate between halfway nice and halfway angry with anyone who set foot within his domain. The one true asset he did have was shade. He yelled at some guy and told him not to come back. While sitting under the shade with Elena and the bad Mojito a guy in 60’s, toasted on alcohol and who knows what, was having episodes of some sort. A couple of people thought it was funny but it made me uncomfortable. He was off his head and in his own world. The hippy vibe was nonexistent at the Mojto stand until a bonafide hippy showed up with a makeshift guitar looking thing that had a built in speaker playing traditional Greek music. The wacky 60 something year old got up and started dancing. Elena and I left the Mojito and went for a swim.

I really didn’t need to see the backside of a naked Indian man with hair covered butt but I didn’t let if keep me from getting in a swim. Elena and I swam, in swimsuits, then left Red Beach feeling no need to return. The hike to and from wasn’t long but it was a semi rugged up and down path. The heat didn’t bother me at all but I think it was at about the limit for Elena. Moscow never gets hot. Fortunately the hike was short enough that I didn’t sense fault from her towards me for taking her on a hike in the midday summer heat of Crete.

Elena had been in Matala for a few days so she knew where to eat. After a very good dinner she wanted to go for a short evening drive to another beach for the sunset. She said she would drive which was fine by me as she had rented a very nice BMW suv. She put on her fancy designer sunglasses for the drive. I think she does ok in Moscow.

The next morning I saw Elena again, at breakfast, and told her what my plans were and she was welcome to tag along. I had planned to stay in a mountain village to do a big hike over Mt Psiloritis to the highest point in Crete. The mountains somewhat interested her so we followed each other to Anogia.

We had lunch in Anogia and spent the afternoon visiting a cave and touring the area. While doing so we happened upon a small stone chapel that caught her attention. Small chapels are all over the countryside and some can be hundreds of years old. She seemed to be drawn to it so we stopped.

The structure was quite small and built out of thick stone with a steep narrow pitch to the inside roof. The chapels tend to be in honor of certain Saints and so fort and are Orthodox Christian. Elena expressed how she got chills when she recognized that the one we entered represented a female Saint who fought off demons. She took a moment as she went through the motions of crossing herself and paying respects.

She told me that it was rare to find such a chapel but she had heard about this one in Crete. It just so happened that we stumbled across it by chance or maybe some kind of divine direction. It’s interesting how things work. Had she not followed me up to the mountains she would never have visited it.

We parted ways in the evening. She was wanting to get back to a beach before flying to Tel Aviv for something in a couple of days. I needed to get ready to the next days relatively big hike. I think we’ll keep in touch.