Matala

I am now in Iraklio, returning the rented bike to Ierapetra this evening. Then off to Santorini on Sunday. See if you can translate the greek sign using the greek alphabit. I knew my math education with all of the alphas and sigmas would come in handy someday.

Always a surprise around each corner. The sheep are frightened much more by the motorcycle than they are by a car.

The week before Easter, the whole town spruced up with cleaning windows, painting buildings, moving plants outside. You would think that Jesus was coming, but it was only the opening of tourist season. After midnight mass, the pagans came out and lit this humongous fire underneath the wicked Judas hanging from a scaffold. The men would toss in pints of gasoline that would throw up a big flare and the boys would toss in firecrackers. Then the band started up around 1 am and played til 5.

The village of Matala, where I stayed for a couple of days. If you zoom in the the rock walls on the far side of the beach, you can see the caves there. Originally Roman tombs, then used over the years by others after the Romans were evicted. German Army in WW II and the hippies in the 1960's.