Sunday, July 17, 2011
Road to Tristomos and Then Some
Tristomos Hike and Beyond
Sunday, July 17, 2011—Diafani, Karpathos, Greece
Lazy morning. I got up late, ate a leisurely breakfast, and now am washing out some things and of course writing this. My plans for the rest of the day include reading and staring out across the harbor—if I can work up the energy to walk the five minutes it takes me to reach the harbor.
The reason I’m so out of it is I went on a crazy, long-ass, three-part hike yesterday. First I headed up the coast to a nearly abandoned village called Tristomos (only two families now live there year round). The main reason I wanted to head there wasn’t to see the village itself, but because the hike seemed like it would be really cool, which it was. The trail hugged the cliffs and high ridgelines along the northeast coast of the island and was spectacular: for a couple hours I zigzagged in and out of pine forests, scrublands, and bare rocky outcrops, all while the shining Mediterranean lapped against the shore a hundred or hundreds of feet below. I was so high up at one point, and in an area so few people travel, that I actually got to see a couple of the island’s rare wild goats (not feral ones, but the real wild ancestors of their domesticated brethren). The first one I saw was far in the distance; it was standing on a rock watching me. Then I got lucky and snuck up on one. Because the fact that he (or she—I didn’t get close enough to tell) wasn’t expecting anyone that high up and because I was down wind of him and he couldn’t smell me coming, I really surprise him and got within maybe thirty feet before he saw me and took off up the dry rocks to an even higher elevation. He was a beautiful animal, with long black hair offset by an equally long gold patch that started just below his neck and extended across his shoulders and down his sides. Comparing this regal individual to the domestic ones you see here is a telling experience, really makes you see how much we’ve degraded these animals, what becoming slaves of humanity does to them. The goats the people keep here are really dirty, nasty, stupid things—and we’ve made them that way! This alone might be a good reason to go vegetarian …
The trail to Tristomos eventually turns inland and heads thru massive dry valleys. Strewn throughout these valleys are the rock walls and linings of the old, no longer-used farming terraces and field enclosures. This area used to be a thriving agricultural center, but Greece’s many wars and economic issues over the last century or so has caused this place to be abandoned. Walking thru the lost world was fascinating, if more than a bit sad. So much life had been lived there, so many story were created that are now long-since lost. It reminded me a lot of western Ireland, of all the old farms there that were abandoned because of the potato famine and subsequent mass emigration to America and Australia. Like I said, this part of the day was fascinating, but not exactly pleasant, if you know what I mean …
Tristomos itself is really nothing exciting. It’s just a little crescent of buildings, most no longer in use, which line the shore of an amazingly protected little harbor that once was the main exit point for people and goods from this part of the island. Noteworthy, though, was the massive amounts of trash strewn about the waterline. Tourists who come to Greece, I’ve noticed, are really ignorant about the state of the sea that surrounds them. So many times I hear people raving about how “clean” it is. This simply isn’t true. Most of the year the beaches are heaped with trash, with human effluent that makes landfall from God knows where. As the tourist season gets going these beaches are cleaned up. Tristomos is a good example of what many places here would look like if this wasn’t done. While I’m on this subject of “clean” water, I can’t believe how uninformed so many of the travelers are who come here. The Mediterranean is extremely polluted in a chemical sense as well. It’s also become increasingly devoid of life; fish, crustation, sponge, seal and other stocks have plummeted in recent decades. Just because the water has a pretty blue-green tint and you can see thru near shore fools these people into thinking they’ve landed in some eco-paradise. This couldn’t be further from the truth. How can they not know this? (Or maybe they just don’t want to know.)
According to the signs, whose accuracy is questionable, it was just under 11 kilometers to from Diafani, where I’m staying, to Tristomos. So I was pretty burned out by the time I got there. I originally was just going to go back the way I came, but in Tristomos I saw I could pick up the trail to Avlona, which supposedly was only around 8.5 kilometers away. I decide to head for there, because it was still on my way home, more or less, I would get to see some new country (I could avoid the dreaded Grecian backtracking, which is such a fact of life in these islands), and I knew there was a place there where I replenish my water supplies (as usual I underestimated how much I’d need). This was arguably not one of my better decisions, for a number of reasons.
After a short jaunt along the edge of Tristomos’ harbor, the trail turned inland and because a stone-laden march thru the floor of a hot valley that was getting little in the way of breeze (the coastal trail I took in was nice and breezy, which kept things relatively cool). The heat, the pain-in-the-ass terrain and the fact that I’d already been on the trail for over ten kilometers made this part of the hike an unpleasant slog. It got even worse a bit later as the trail shot steeply up into the mountains, which like the valley was also largely blocked from the wind and therefore hot as hell. One funny thing did happen on this part of the trail, though. Throughout this area there are all sorts of abandoned stone shepard's houses. One of these was being used by a bunch of domesticated goats to escape the heat. I guess because I was downwind of them they didn’t notice me coming. The trail passed right in front of the doorway of the house they were using and when the goats saw me they panicked and began bounding out of the little house and into the surrounding fields. What made this funny is that there were so many of them. At least a dozen poured out of this little dwelling. It was like at the circus when a ridiculous number of clowns exit their tiny car.
Well eventually, after a seemingly endless hike, I made it to Avlona, where I headed to the town’s only café, where I guzzled water (I’d run out a few kilometers back), downed a much deserved beer, and ate a salad, all of which I was overcharged for (nine euros)—they’re the only game in town and they know it. Still the people there were nice, old women mostly it seems (most of the men and the younger people were probably working in the fields somewhere, or have left town looking for something better in life), wearing traditional clothing and giving off the feel that it was still 1858 or something. From there I began the hike back home, which, after nearly 20 hot challenging kilometers behind me was not much fun.
The best thing about this part of the hike was the fact that the sun was going down and things were cooling off considerably. The bad part was that it was getting dark and the one thing I don’t want to have happen to me here is to still be out on the high trails in the dark, which, depending on exactly where I am, could be dangerous. So I powered over the mountain pass that leads to the sea and then down the long drainage and made it to the main road with about twenty minutes of daylight to spare. Not much of note happened on this part of the trail, except, for the first time in my life, I saw a legless lizard in the wild. It was a little thing, probably less than three inches from head to the tip of its tail. It’s interesting that I knew exactly what it was the second I saw it. I’d read that, despite their superficial resemblance to snakes these things are easy to identify because of the way they move. This turned out to be the case. They simply don’t travel like snakes—they kind of wiggle side to side, like a lizard, except they don’t have legs. I wish I could have observed it more closely, but it was getting dark, and, like I said, I needed to get off that trail. So I let him go on his way and I went on mine.
I finally made it back to town at about nine-thirty that night, after heading out about a quarter to eleven that morning. So at at least 23 kilometers it was a more than healthy jaunt. Cool, but ultimately a bit much. And I’m paying for it today. I’m glad I did it, though—I saw a lot of things most people who comes to Greece never run across. Besides you can’t spend all your days on the beach—you gotta have a little variety even if it almost kills you …
I can’t believe how long I’ve been based out of Diafani—by the time I leave tomorrow it will have been over a week. I must have found something here I like, though, or I would still be around. Heading down to Pigadia for sure tomorrow afternoon. On Tuesday I’ll either take the ferry of fly back to Crete. The trips winding down—I can really feel it now. Just a few more things to accomplish and I’m done …
Notes:
Obviously this island is not as goat free as I'd thought. Still there are far fewer of these beasties per square mile here than on Crete. Still wondering why that is ...
Lazy morning. I got up late, ate a leisurely breakfast, and now am washing out some things and of course writing this. My plans for the rest of the day include reading and staring out across the harbor—if I can work up the energy to walk the five minutes it takes me to reach the harbor.
The reason I’m so out of it is I went on a crazy, long-ass, three-part hike yesterday. First I headed up the coast to a nearly abandoned village called Tristomos (only two families now live there year round). The main reason I wanted to head there wasn’t to see the village itself, but because the hike seemed like it would be really cool, which it was. The trail hugged the cliffs and high ridgelines along the northeast coast of the island and was spectacular: for a couple hours I zigzagged in and out of pine forests, scrublands, and bare rocky outcrops, all while the shining Mediterranean lapped against the shore a hundred or hundreds of feet below. I was so high up at one point, and in an area so few people travel, that I actually got to see a couple of the island’s rare wild goats (not feral ones, but the real wild ancestors of their domesticated brethren). The first one I saw was far in the distance; it was standing on a rock watching me. Then I got lucky and snuck up on one. Because the fact that he (or she—I didn’t get close enough to tell) wasn’t expecting anyone that high up and because I was down wind of him and he couldn’t smell me coming, I really surprise him and got within maybe thirty feet before he saw me and took off up the dry rocks to an even higher elevation. He was a beautiful animal, with long black hair offset by an equally long gold patch that started just below his neck and extended across his shoulders and down his sides. Comparing this regal individual to the domestic ones you see here is a telling experience, really makes you see how much we’ve degraded these animals, what becoming slaves of humanity does to them. The goats the people keep here are really dirty, nasty, stupid things—and we’ve made them that way! This alone might be a good reason to go vegetarian …
The trail to Tristomos eventually turns inland and heads thru massive dry valleys. Strewn throughout these valleys are the rock walls and linings of the old, no longer-used farming terraces and field enclosures. This area used to be a thriving agricultural center, but Greece’s many wars and economic issues over the last century or so has caused this place to be abandoned. Walking thru the lost world was fascinating, if more than a bit sad. So much life had been lived there, so many story were created that are now long-since lost. It reminded me a lot of western Ireland, of all the old farms there that were abandoned because of the potato famine and subsequent mass emigration to America and Australia. Like I said, this part of the day was fascinating, but not exactly pleasant, if you know what I mean …
Tristomos itself is really nothing exciting. It’s just a little crescent of buildings, most no longer in use, which line the shore of an amazingly protected little harbor that once was the main exit point for people and goods from this part of the island. Noteworthy, though, was the massive amounts of trash strewn about the waterline. Tourists who come to Greece, I’ve noticed, are really ignorant about the state of the sea that surrounds them. So many times I hear people raving about how “clean” it is. This simply isn’t true. Most of the year the beaches are heaped with trash, with human effluent that makes landfall from God knows where. As the tourist season gets going these beaches are cleaned up. Tristomos is a good example of what many places here would look like if this wasn’t done. While I’m on this subject of “clean” water, I can’t believe how uninformed so many of the travelers are who come here. The Mediterranean is extremely polluted in a chemical sense as well. It’s also become increasingly devoid of life; fish, crustation, sponge, seal and other stocks have plummeted in recent decades. Just because the water has a pretty blue-green tint and you can see thru near shore fools these people into thinking they’ve landed in some eco-paradise. This couldn’t be further from the truth. How can they not know this? (Or maybe they just don’t want to know.)
According to the signs, whose accuracy is questionable, it was just under 11 kilometers to from Diafani, where I’m staying, to Tristomos. So I was pretty burned out by the time I got there. I originally was just going to go back the way I came, but in Tristomos I saw I could pick up the trail to Avlona, which supposedly was only around 8.5 kilometers away. I decide to head for there, because it was still on my way home, more or less, I would get to see some new country (I could avoid the dreaded Grecian backtracking, which is such a fact of life in these islands), and I knew there was a place there where I replenish my water supplies (as usual I underestimated how much I’d need). This was arguably not one of my better decisions, for a number of reasons.
After a short jaunt along the edge of Tristomos’ harbor, the trail turned inland and because a stone-laden march thru the floor of a hot valley that was getting little in the way of breeze (the coastal trail I took in was nice and breezy, which kept things relatively cool). The heat, the pain-in-the-ass terrain and the fact that I’d already been on the trail for over ten kilometers made this part of the hike an unpleasant slog. It got even worse a bit later as the trail shot steeply up into the mountains, which like the valley was also largely blocked from the wind and therefore hot as hell. One funny thing did happen on this part of the trail, though. Throughout this area there are all sorts of abandoned stone shepard's houses. One of these was being used by a bunch of domesticated goats to escape the heat. I guess because I was downwind of them they didn’t notice me coming. The trail passed right in front of the doorway of the house they were using and when the goats saw me they panicked and began bounding out of the little house and into the surrounding fields. What made this funny is that there were so many of them. At least a dozen poured out of this little dwelling. It was like at the circus when a ridiculous number of clowns exit their tiny car.
Well eventually, after a seemingly endless hike, I made it to Avlona, where I headed to the town’s only café, where I guzzled water (I’d run out a few kilometers back), downed a much deserved beer, and ate a salad, all of which I was overcharged for (nine euros)—they’re the only game in town and they know it. Still the people there were nice, old women mostly it seems (most of the men and the younger people were probably working in the fields somewhere, or have left town looking for something better in life), wearing traditional clothing and giving off the feel that it was still 1858 or something. From there I began the hike back home, which, after nearly 20 hot challenging kilometers behind me was not much fun.
The best thing about this part of the hike was the fact that the sun was going down and things were cooling off considerably. The bad part was that it was getting dark and the one thing I don’t want to have happen to me here is to still be out on the high trails in the dark, which, depending on exactly where I am, could be dangerous. So I powered over the mountain pass that leads to the sea and then down the long drainage and made it to the main road with about twenty minutes of daylight to spare. Not much of note happened on this part of the trail, except, for the first time in my life, I saw a legless lizard in the wild. It was a little thing, probably less than three inches from head to the tip of its tail. It’s interesting that I knew exactly what it was the second I saw it. I’d read that, despite their superficial resemblance to snakes these things are easy to identify because of the way they move. This turned out to be the case. They simply don’t travel like snakes—they kind of wiggle side to side, like a lizard, except they don’t have legs. I wish I could have observed it more closely, but it was getting dark, and, like I said, I needed to get off that trail. So I let him go on his way and I went on mine.
I finally made it back to town at about nine-thirty that night, after heading out about a quarter to eleven that morning. So at at least 23 kilometers it was a more than healthy jaunt. Cool, but ultimately a bit much. And I’m paying for it today. I’m glad I did it, though—I saw a lot of things most people who comes to Greece never run across. Besides you can’t spend all your days on the beach—you gotta have a little variety even if it almost kills you …
I can’t believe how long I’ve been based out of Diafani—by the time I leave tomorrow it will have been over a week. I must have found something here I like, though, or I would still be around. Heading down to Pigadia for sure tomorrow afternoon. On Tuesday I’ll either take the ferry of fly back to Crete. The trips winding down—I can really feel it now. Just a few more things to accomplish and I’m done …
Notes:
Obviously this island is not as goat free as I'd thought. Still there are far fewer of these beasties per square mile here than on Crete. Still wondering why that is ...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Saria Etc.
Friday, July 15, 2011—Diafani, Karpathos, Greece
I haven’t been in the mood to write for some reason the last few days, so I’m going to be playing some catch-up with this entry. A couple days back I took a fairly long hike Avlona, a little agricultural village, which is a couple hours’ worth of hiking to the northwest. It was an interesting trail with a nice long ascent thru a fairly dense (by southern Greek island standards) pine forest. The town itself is quite traditional; most of the few women I saw there were dressed in old-fashion garb, I’m not sure how much is going on in regards to electricity, and running water, and wheat, olives, and goats are what keeps the little place going—not the tourist trade. That said, there is one taverna there that does attract tourists. Unfortunately just before we got there a tour bus arrived and we found our Greek backwater experience people too by Germans, Italians, and whatnot. A pleasant experience still, but not quite what I was hoping for.
As for yesterday, I did very little. I had one of those days one has sometimes on a long trip where a wall is hit and laziness is the order of the day. So I just read, sat around a waterfront taverna nursing an orange juice, and then took an afternoon nap, before heading out for dinner and then drinks, with Carla, the Italian woman I met here.
Today I did something I usually don’t do and went with a tourist boat up to the islet of Saria, which is just north (literally just north—I probably could have swam from one island to the other) of Karpathos. Like I just said, I usually try to avoid these tourist excursions, but there really isn’t anyway else to get up to this island and I really wanted to check it out. Until about forty years ago there was a village there. Now, except for one ninety-eight-year-old woman (whom I did not see) nobody lives there, except seasonally—there are still goats, olive trees, and other things raised there. My tourist compatriots, who were from Slavic country, based on the sound of the language they were speaking, which I couldn’t quite place, and were a bit silly, the men especially, who, though fairly young, were really out of shape. Their kids seemed to be getting into the spirit of things, but the adults in these groups seemed to be mostly about drinking the beer booze they brought and eating chips and other crappy food, while hiding in the shade (why didn’t they just stay home if they wanted to do that?).
I got away from these folk as soon as the boat landed and hiked up this beautiful little gorge to check out the remains of the old village, which were really interesting. I also found a cool old church that really intrigued me as an archaeologist in that it seemed to be built on top of an ancient temple of some sort, and even incorporated some of the old marble columns into the walls surrounding the place. There were also some fragments of a floor mosaic visible, which Manolis, the captain of the boat that took us there, said dated to between 500 and 600 AD. (He also said that there was evidence of human habitation on the island going back to Minoan times, but I didn’t see any evidence of that, or if I did, I didn’t understand that that was what I was looking at.)
After my hike, I went for a swim in the pretty little lagoon where the boat was anchored (this is where everyone else on the boat stayed—though they were surrounded by some really cool ruins, not one of these people ventured off the beach). The lagoon had some really neat sea caves and was definitely a nice place. My hike took so long, though, that I didn’t have much time to explore because the boat was heading out. We went to another beach after this that looked good a well, but after their hard day of drinking, eating crap, and lounging, none of my boat buddies wanted to get off, so we just headed back to Diafani (I wanted to explore the place at least a little bit, but I guess majority rules on these sorts of things and so no one inquired as to my opinion on the situation).
And that’s that—I’m pretty much caught up on what I’ve been doing. Tomorrow I head down to Pigadia, mainly because I’m out of money and there are no ATMs in this village. I’ll be there until Tuesday night, when I catch the boat back to Crete. I’d like to head out earlier and at a better time—the boat dumps me off in Sitia between one and two in the morning, which means sleeping on a bench somewhere, as there’s no way to get a room that time of night and the buses to my next destination won’t start running until six of seven. When I get to Pigadia I’m going to check out what it costs to fly back to Crete. It’s a really short run and might be cheap to jump over to Iraklio, even if I buy at the last minute. If I can get a decent fare I’m really considering splurging, so I can avoid being here longer than I want and to avoid the hassle of an early morning arrival time.
Though I still have slightly more than three weeks to go on this trip I can feel it drawing to a close: for the first time since leaving I’m starting to look past Greece to heading back home. I think nine weeks might have been a bit much here; six weeks might have been better, might have made for a more taught trip. I could easily get a second wind (or perhaps third wind) when I get back to Crete, though. I have no complaints, though—for my first time in Greece I think I did a good job, saw a lot (though arguably within a geographically small amount of space, given how much time I had). In other words, I’m feeling good, happy with how things have gone.
OK, I’m outta here. It’s now about seven-thirty in the evening. I had breakfast at nine in the morning and my lunch consisted of a piece of watermelon and a shot of ouzo. Off to La Gorgona for a big dinner …
I haven’t been in the mood to write for some reason the last few days, so I’m going to be playing some catch-up with this entry. A couple days back I took a fairly long hike Avlona, a little agricultural village, which is a couple hours’ worth of hiking to the northwest. It was an interesting trail with a nice long ascent thru a fairly dense (by southern Greek island standards) pine forest. The town itself is quite traditional; most of the few women I saw there were dressed in old-fashion garb, I’m not sure how much is going on in regards to electricity, and running water, and wheat, olives, and goats are what keeps the little place going—not the tourist trade. That said, there is one taverna there that does attract tourists. Unfortunately just before we got there a tour bus arrived and we found our Greek backwater experience people too by Germans, Italians, and whatnot. A pleasant experience still, but not quite what I was hoping for.
As for yesterday, I did very little. I had one of those days one has sometimes on a long trip where a wall is hit and laziness is the order of the day. So I just read, sat around a waterfront taverna nursing an orange juice, and then took an afternoon nap, before heading out for dinner and then drinks, with Carla, the Italian woman I met here.
Today I did something I usually don’t do and went with a tourist boat up to the islet of Saria, which is just north (literally just north—I probably could have swam from one island to the other) of Karpathos. Like I just said, I usually try to avoid these tourist excursions, but there really isn’t anyway else to get up to this island and I really wanted to check it out. Until about forty years ago there was a village there. Now, except for one ninety-eight-year-old woman (whom I did not see) nobody lives there, except seasonally—there are still goats, olive trees, and other things raised there. My tourist compatriots, who were from Slavic country, based on the sound of the language they were speaking, which I couldn’t quite place, and were a bit silly, the men especially, who, though fairly young, were really out of shape. Their kids seemed to be getting into the spirit of things, but the adults in these groups seemed to be mostly about drinking the beer booze they brought and eating chips and other crappy food, while hiding in the shade (why didn’t they just stay home if they wanted to do that?).
I got away from these folk as soon as the boat landed and hiked up this beautiful little gorge to check out the remains of the old village, which were really interesting. I also found a cool old church that really intrigued me as an archaeologist in that it seemed to be built on top of an ancient temple of some sort, and even incorporated some of the old marble columns into the walls surrounding the place. There were also some fragments of a floor mosaic visible, which Manolis, the captain of the boat that took us there, said dated to between 500 and 600 AD. (He also said that there was evidence of human habitation on the island going back to Minoan times, but I didn’t see any evidence of that, or if I did, I didn’t understand that that was what I was looking at.)
After my hike, I went for a swim in the pretty little lagoon where the boat was anchored (this is where everyone else on the boat stayed—though they were surrounded by some really cool ruins, not one of these people ventured off the beach). The lagoon had some really neat sea caves and was definitely a nice place. My hike took so long, though, that I didn’t have much time to explore because the boat was heading out. We went to another beach after this that looked good a well, but after their hard day of drinking, eating crap, and lounging, none of my boat buddies wanted to get off, so we just headed back to Diafani (I wanted to explore the place at least a little bit, but I guess majority rules on these sorts of things and so no one inquired as to my opinion on the situation).
And that’s that—I’m pretty much caught up on what I’ve been doing. Tomorrow I head down to Pigadia, mainly because I’m out of money and there are no ATMs in this village. I’ll be there until Tuesday night, when I catch the boat back to Crete. I’d like to head out earlier and at a better time—the boat dumps me off in Sitia between one and two in the morning, which means sleeping on a bench somewhere, as there’s no way to get a room that time of night and the buses to my next destination won’t start running until six of seven. When I get to Pigadia I’m going to check out what it costs to fly back to Crete. It’s a really short run and might be cheap to jump over to Iraklio, even if I buy at the last minute. If I can get a decent fare I’m really considering splurging, so I can avoid being here longer than I want and to avoid the hassle of an early morning arrival time.
Though I still have slightly more than three weeks to go on this trip I can feel it drawing to a close: for the first time since leaving I’m starting to look past Greece to heading back home. I think nine weeks might have been a bit much here; six weeks might have been better, might have made for a more taught trip. I could easily get a second wind (or perhaps third wind) when I get back to Crete, though. I have no complaints, though—for my first time in Greece I think I did a good job, saw a lot (though arguably within a geographically small amount of space, given how much time I had). In other words, I’m feeling good, happy with how things have gone.
OK, I’m outta here. It’s now about seven-thirty in the evening. I had breakfast at nine in the morning and my lunch consisted of a piece of watermelon and a shot of ouzo. Off to La Gorgona for a big dinner …
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A Few More Diafini Photos
Another Diafini Day
Tuesday, July 12, 2011—Diafani, Crete, Greece
Another good day, pretty much like yesterday. The main difference is that I attempted to hike to a beach not on the map that exists just south of Papa Mina Bay. The only way to get to this beach, by land, is to take a narrow trail that runs along a very high ridgeline and then drops quite steeply for a long run down to the water. I made it up to and then across the ridgeline. The trail itself wasn’t too tough. The problem was the wind up there, which came in huge gusting blasts, which literally almost blew me off the trail a couple times (twice I had to lift a leg higher than usual to get over an obstacle just as a big gust hit that was so strong it spun me in a half circle). I made it to the point where I could look down onto the beach, though. But I decided not to head down. I could tell that the beach wasn’t any better than a couple much more accessible ones that I could go to and that it was less sheltered and getting a lot more wind than I wanted to deal with. It also would have been a pretty dangerous descent, in that I could see trail sections that were runs across narrow spines with really long drops on either side. Given the wind situation it wasn’t hard imagining me getting blown down one of these drops. So, since the beach wasn’t that cool looking and I was in no mood to die, I headed back to the beach I was at yesterday, where I had a similar day as the day before, except that for the last part of my day there I was joined by Carla, this Italian woman I met at La Gorgona last night.
On to other topics. I’ve finally decided that I will be heading back to Crete next to wrap up this trip. The question is when. There’s no ATM in this town and so I either have to leave by tomorrow (I’ll have enough money to pay for my room until then and pay for an afternoon boat ticket south) or I can wait until Thursday and catch the morning boat down to Pigadia, get some money, and head back up here to pay my bills. The problem is that the ferries back to Crete run only on Tuesdays and Thursday s and most don’t stop up here in Diafani. This means if I don’t head down to Pigadia on Wednesday and catch the Thursday ferry I can’t get off the island until the following Tuesday. The main question is do I want to be on this island that long. There are some places I want to explore still, but another five days might be pushing it. I also have to figure out how much time I need on Crete. I think I’ve pared back that part of the trip to three for sure stops: the Plakias region on the Crete’s south-central coast, Frangokastello, the area of Hania’s southern coast I missed, and another round on Gavdos Island. If these are the only places I go I should still have plenty of time. There are a few other spots I wouldn’t mind checking out, though. At the moment leaning towards taking the Thursday—even though I have really begun to enjoy this place, I just don’t think I want to devote five additional days here, even I don't need the time for Crete.
Another good day, pretty much like yesterday. The main difference is that I attempted to hike to a beach not on the map that exists just south of Papa Mina Bay. The only way to get to this beach, by land, is to take a narrow trail that runs along a very high ridgeline and then drops quite steeply for a long run down to the water. I made it up to and then across the ridgeline. The trail itself wasn’t too tough. The problem was the wind up there, which came in huge gusting blasts, which literally almost blew me off the trail a couple times (twice I had to lift a leg higher than usual to get over an obstacle just as a big gust hit that was so strong it spun me in a half circle). I made it to the point where I could look down onto the beach, though. But I decided not to head down. I could tell that the beach wasn’t any better than a couple much more accessible ones that I could go to and that it was less sheltered and getting a lot more wind than I wanted to deal with. It also would have been a pretty dangerous descent, in that I could see trail sections that were runs across narrow spines with really long drops on either side. Given the wind situation it wasn’t hard imagining me getting blown down one of these drops. So, since the beach wasn’t that cool looking and I was in no mood to die, I headed back to the beach I was at yesterday, where I had a similar day as the day before, except that for the last part of my day there I was joined by Carla, this Italian woman I met at La Gorgona last night.
On to other topics. I’ve finally decided that I will be heading back to Crete next to wrap up this trip. The question is when. There’s no ATM in this town and so I either have to leave by tomorrow (I’ll have enough money to pay for my room until then and pay for an afternoon boat ticket south) or I can wait until Thursday and catch the morning boat down to Pigadia, get some money, and head back up here to pay my bills. The problem is that the ferries back to Crete run only on Tuesdays and Thursday s and most don’t stop up here in Diafani. This means if I don’t head down to Pigadia on Wednesday and catch the Thursday ferry I can’t get off the island until the following Tuesday. The main question is do I want to be on this island that long. There are some places I want to explore still, but another five days might be pushing it. I also have to figure out how much time I need on Crete. I think I’ve pared back that part of the trip to three for sure stops: the Plakias region on the Crete’s south-central coast, Frangokastello, the area of Hania’s southern coast I missed, and another round on Gavdos Island. If these are the only places I go I should still have plenty of time. There are a few other spots I wouldn’t mind checking out, though. At the moment leaning towards taking the Thursday—even though I have really begun to enjoy this place, I just don’t think I want to devote five additional days here, even I don't need the time for Crete.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Diafani from the Trail and Beyond
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