Leaving Crete

Leaving Matala, I hiked Ibros Gorge as Samaria, the big hike, had not opened yet. It was a dry canyon, 8 Km long and quite green with some narrows 10 feet across and 60 feet high., almost a slot canyon at places. The taxi wanted 20 Euro to take me back up the 16 Km to the bike, but I caught a ride with a young couple from Amsterdam.

Crete was not clear to me at all. It's either on its way up or on its way down. Iraklio, where I spent last night is certainly no Portland, but it's not Trenton, NJ either. There was way too much traffic in the Center and around the port, grafiti on abandoned buildings and public buildings, but some really nice hotels and restaurants intermingled in it all.

The country is definitly a mom and pop place. No mega stores that I saw, no malls either. The restaurants always seemed like a family affair with one doing the cooking, the other out front, and usually a son or daughter working also. I saw a couple working together as tree pruners and another doing a small construction project. The hothouses seemed to have only one vehicle parked in the employee lot and I thought they must work as a couple also.

I turned in the motorcycle on Friday after falling off of it in Agios Nicoloas. Just hit the brakes a little too hard at an intersection and the front wheel slipped out. No damage except for smashing the LCD on the camera that I wear on my belt. The owner of the shop where I bought another camera recognized my MicroAge jacket as he used to work for Tandy/Radio Shack in Canada. We then discussed business a bit and he is concerned about the Greek outlook. They keep comparing today to the time before joining the EU saying how cheap things were then and how expensive they are now. I don't understand how just switching currency can do that. Men and women here smoke incessantly, second had smoke everywhere. I bought a croissant at a bakery the other morning and the store stunk of a customer's smoking cigarette rather than the desired bakery aroma.
I met and chatted with three young Somalians at the hotel in Iraklio. They were surprised I knew where Somalia was and we joked about the high jackers.
Sunday morning I took the fast ferry to Santorini. The regular ferry was much cheaper, 16 Euro vs 45, but it didn't arrive til 10:30 at night and I like to come into a new place in the daylight. Two hours later I was gazing up at this story book island. All of the travel brochures are true! The views are fabulous. Hotel rates are still at 25 Euro and I spent one night in the capital of Fira.