A mammoth day of walking through a part of Crete rarely seen by tourists.
My night among the olive trees was not disturbed other than by the periodic squeaking of some creature, a bird maybe? Today was windy, although the Cretan Way guidebook warns of wind this is the first day it impacted me. While I was rolling up the tent, the tent's bag disappeared, I assume blown away in a gust of wind. Normally I would weigh it down with something, but today, my last day of camping on this trip, I must have been getting slack. Anyway the bag was starting to show holes, this lightweight gear does not last long.
After a climb I reached the little, half abandoned village of Dafni, with its little alleys characteristic of old Cretan village layouts. Then it was a gradual descent down a valley with bright green vineyards lower down, then olive trees a little higher, often on terraces, then the mountainside with its yellow gorse. After losing much height, the dirt track I was following crossed the river and headed up the other side of the valley. This meant the route did a large dogleg, turning back on itself. During the dogleg the E4 signs were absent. Study of E4 signs I encountered suggested there was a shorter alternative, although I suspected it might involve forcing a way through undergrowth with uncertain navigation (later confirmed by blogs on interkriti.org). In the event the route I took along dirt tracks, based on GPS tracks I had downloaded, was easy to follow and took me past an old church, with faded wall paintings that looked like the ghosts of saints evaluating me.
Climbing up I missed a turning or two so stuck to the tarmac road that led me passed Etia. A desirable outcome as it had: a taverna, where I drank a Coke; a double nave church, each nave with an iconostasis (why bother having two naves I wondered, instead of one large nave); some ruins of abandoned houses (but still with good street lights), and what I took to be the Venetian villa marked on my map. A little later there were remains of old Cretan windmills in the fields, looking sad in their half collapsed state. Some time after I reached Chandras. The Lemon tree taverna which has glowing reports in various blogs and guides was closed and looked unlikely to ever open again, so I continued down the road to Zeros for a pita souvlaka.
After Zeros it was a climb up to the plateau. The path which crosses the plateau for several kilometres was not as bad as I feared. Although rough and stony, it was not overgrown and relatively easy to follow with a variety of waymarks: signs on metal posts; white, yellow and black stripes; yellow stripes and spots, and red spots. Although the map shows it as a straight line it actually wiggles around rock outcrops as it makes it's way through the landscape. It takes you to a church, at the abandoned settlement of Skala, where the Turks massacred a group of Greeks, before it begins its descent.
With sore feet after walking almost 40 kilometres, the interminable descent to Zakros was not pleasant especially with gusts of wind trying to throw me off balance. It was with much relief I picked up the key for my Dimitra apartment. While I waited the owner's mother smiled and gave me a banana. A shower was definitely needed to wash off the congealed sweat. Some wine and food at the nearby Xyloporta cafe also helped improve things, and the Metaxa brandy certainly helped to put me to sleep!
My night among the olive trees was not disturbed other than by the periodic squeaking of some creature, a bird maybe? Today was windy, although the Cretan Way guidebook warns of wind this is the first day it impacted me. While I was rolling up the tent, the tent's bag disappeared, I assume blown away in a gust of wind. Normally I would weigh it down with something, but today, my last day of camping on this trip, I must have been getting slack. Anyway the bag was starting to show holes, this lightweight gear does not last long.
After a climb I reached the little, half abandoned village of Dafni, with its little alleys characteristic of old Cretan village layouts. Then it was a gradual descent down a valley with bright green vineyards lower down, then olive trees a little higher, often on terraces, then the mountainside with its yellow gorse. After losing much height, the dirt track I was following crossed the river and headed up the other side of the valley. This meant the route did a large dogleg, turning back on itself. During the dogleg the E4 signs were absent. Study of E4 signs I encountered suggested there was a shorter alternative, although I suspected it might involve forcing a way through undergrowth with uncertain navigation (later confirmed by blogs on interkriti.org). In the event the route I took along dirt tracks, based on GPS tracks I had downloaded, was easy to follow and took me past an old church, with faded wall paintings that looked like the ghosts of saints evaluating me.
Climbing up I missed a turning or two so stuck to the tarmac road that led me passed Etia. A desirable outcome as it had: a taverna, where I drank a Coke; a double nave church, each nave with an iconostasis (why bother having two naves I wondered, instead of one large nave); some ruins of abandoned houses (but still with good street lights), and what I took to be the Venetian villa marked on my map. A little later there were remains of old Cretan windmills in the fields, looking sad in their half collapsed state. Some time after I reached Chandras. The Lemon tree taverna which has glowing reports in various blogs and guides was closed and looked unlikely to ever open again, so I continued down the road to Zeros for a pita souvlaka.
After Zeros it was a climb up to the plateau. The path which crosses the plateau for several kilometres was not as bad as I feared. Although rough and stony, it was not overgrown and relatively easy to follow with a variety of waymarks: signs on metal posts; white, yellow and black stripes; yellow stripes and spots, and red spots. Although the map shows it as a straight line it actually wiggles around rock outcrops as it makes it's way through the landscape. It takes you to a church, at the abandoned settlement of Skala, where the Turks massacred a group of Greeks, before it begins its descent.
With sore feet after walking almost 40 kilometres, the interminable descent to Zakros was not pleasant especially with gusts of wind trying to throw me off balance. It was with much relief I picked up the key for my Dimitra apartment. While I waited the owner's mother smiled and gave me a banana. A shower was definitely needed to wash off the congealed sweat. Some wine and food at the nearby Xyloporta cafe also helped improve things, and the Metaxa brandy certainly helped to put me to sleep!
39 kilometres walked today with a 1140 metre total ascent.
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| Early morning is a beautiful time to walk |
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| An alluvial fan |
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| Derelict windmill |
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| Path over plateau to Zakros |
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