Day 15 – this is the end

We had booked our vacation for two weeks, but since we left very early and came back late, that gave us a day more. On our last day the beginning was the same as all the others: The BF got up, washed and dressed, than I got up washed and dressed, then we went to the breakfast buffet. Sadly, they didn’t have neither the french toast nor the baked dough-balls that day, so I had missed the last opportunity to stock up on them. I sure would miss the fresh honey, too. Then it was time to go back to our room and pack our bags. We had done the most the evening before, but there was still the tiresome question of combining two very different climates: no matter how we turned it, we would be melting here and freezing there. So I put on a short and sleeveless top, taking a sweater and jeans along in my backpack. Now the question was: how do we spend our day without sweating too much? We had the room until noon, but our bus to the airport was only coming at five. Beach was out of the question, since we wouldn’t have a shower and it would take too much stuff out of the suitcases. After staying as long as possible in the air-conditioned room, we decided to just walk around a bit.

Up one street and down the other, we took our time checking out every souvenir shop around and taking pictures of the little stuff we might miss. The BF and I still wanted to find some leather bracelets and original Cretan olive oil, plus I wanted to bring back a honey comb (made of real olive wood!). Of course, by the time we had reached the first shop, our stuff was already sweated through. But we found what we were looking for, brought it back to our suitcases which were waiting in the hotel lobby and then headed out for lunch. We went back to the grill place, even though it was so hot, because it tasted good and didn’t cost much. Plus, it wasn’t a bad spot to just hang around for a while, reminiscing of our past two weeks. To cool down after that, we headed back in the other direction to try out an ice-cream parlor we had passed a few times… although there never seemed to be anybody in there. This time, again, there was no-one behind the counter. We had plenty of time to check out the flavors and prices, which apparently go by weight and not by scoops. There was no shade and nowhere to sit, so after a while I got tired of it and wanted to go to the café next door to ask if they had any ice-cream. A lady of a small group standing there caught us as we went by and said: “I saw you waiting. I’ll come serve you”. Um, ok, but when? She just stood there chatting the whole time, not hurrying one bit. That sure wouldn’t happen in Germany.

Back in the lobby with our ice-creams we passed the rest of the time trying to stay in a draft and cool down a bit, sad to leave and pretty worn out. We took turns getting water bottles from the mini market across the street. As it came close to five o’clock, I took a last bathroom break while The BF went to get the last water. As I came back, I saw a bus driver guy waiting and immediately went into panic mode. Were we late? How long had he been waiting? When will The BF be back? As I was trying to lug the luggage to the bus – alone, mister driver didn’t help – The BF came around the corner, as distraught as I was. Greeks had never been on time, let alone early! But nobody seemed too grumpy in the bus, just pensive. And off to the airport we went. My stomach still hadn’t adjusted to the swaying, so I felt pretty sick when we got there. No pictures allowed, because of the military base right next door. Our suitcases were sent through an x-ray before being checked in. No liquids aloud past check-in, so I tried to chug down the whole liter in five minutes (can’t stand waste!). Inside, there was nothing to do. The duty free shop was a joke, the sandwiches were way over-priced and there was a huge line in front of the restrooms (which were disgusting, of course). As you can tell, I wasn’t in the greatest mood, leaving this place. And as it was time to board, the sun was setting, which was at the same time beautiful and really sad.

Once we got on to the plane we saw that our seats were right next to an emergency exit, which made me pretty nervous. But we did have extra leg room. It didn’t help my nerves that the guy in front of us was clearly sick (swine flu?!), sniffing and sneezing the whole time. Somewhere after take-off I managed to take my jeans and change in those tiny WCs. I pretty much dozed off for the rest. The BF woke me before landing, we got our luggage and immediately recognized the legendary German organisation. As we went out I was joking that it would be funny if the friend who was supposed to pick us up would be waiting there with a sign – and he was (Hi Matze)! We piled into his car, The BF already giddy to tell the tales, while I half slept in the back. At one in the morning, I was back home.

Day 14 – last day at the beach

Today is Saturday, our last full day on Crete. It is clear to us we need to make the max of it – which means hanging out at the beach and not straining ourselves one bit. The only problem is: do we spend one last time at our beloved clean and calm River beach, or do we try the new one? The BF didn’t want to leave anything untried, and even though I had no idea where the WC was (or how clean it would be) and it seemed more crowded, we headed for the new found “official” beach. When we got there, through the “official” street, that could easily be overlooked and that lead past construction sites of new hotels and a gravel parking lot, it seemed to be divided into two parts: on the right, several occupied lounge chairs with noisy tourists and a guy in a sombrero watching over the whole thing, eager to collect his money with a fake smile. On the left: completely empty lounge chairs, closed umbrellas and an empty tent. So we ask sombrero guy on the right how much it costs. When he tells us the price, which is much higher than what we’d like to pay, he also explains that the part on the left is reserved for the hotel. Just as we turn to leave for the less expensive River beach, the guy on the left comes back to his tent and says we can pick an umbrella. Apparently, it’s not private – the touristy guy on the right just likes to make people believe that.

So we choose our spot, in the middle of empty chairs, feeling mighty important. We wonder why he doesn’t leave the umbrellas up, because the sand is much to hot to stand on when it hasn’t been in the shade. These lounge chairs even come with a complementary garbage can and plastic chair to put our stuff on. We strip down and go directly in the water. Then the usual: alternating swimming, reading and tanning till we get hungry. Just on the corner of the “official” beach street, we see a grill joint that serves gyros, something we’ve been looking for this whole time. We try to find a spot near a fan, away from the grill. It’s all outside and in the shade, but still, just by sitting there and doing absolutely nothing, we’re already sweating profusely. This heat is incredible. I eat a very yummy chilli burger (because things weren’t already hot enough…) and think it’s really too bad we didn’t discover this place earlier. I am totally full, for a fair price. Plus, we have a great view on the mini crossroad of death. Not quite as spectacular as the big one, but still entertaining. And while we were sitting there, a middle-aged man kept walking past the restaurant, first one way then the other, muttering to himself. Dinner with a show!

Trying to relieve ourselves of the heat, we decide to look at the bakery across the street for some sweet dessert. The name took up the whole outside wall and I was curious to see what they had inside. I’m glad we went – there were baklava and other oriental honey-drenched goods, viennoiseries just like in France and all the yummy pastries you could imagine. Even in miniature form! But since we were stuffed from lunch and just needed something to cool off, we took the flavored ice cones instead. Which were really good, too. Plus it had the added fun of turning our tongues red and orange.

That day, I also had to take leave of my trusty flip-flops. They had already been battered a little along the trip, with the front side opening and showing the layers. On the way to lunch, however, the part that goes through the toes snapped off, which made it impossible to walk with. The front kept flipping over, making me trip, and there was nothing keeping it under my foot. Luckily, there were cheap kitsch stores all over the place, so we went into the nearest one to find new sandals. I actually found a pair that will serve longer than just as a quick fix. They looked nice and were even on sale! At first I was afraid it would be an imitation of some known brand, which might get us in trouble at the customs, but after wearing them for two days they looked like they belonged to me. So that evening I not only had to say goodbye to my flip-flops, but also to the beach and our time on Crete. It was a sad evening and I didn’t want to go to bed – so that I didn’t have to get up the next morning on our last day of vacation.

Day 13 – bike and bored

Hey there! Didn’t think I’d continue, did ya? Well here it is, an attempt at finishing The Cretan Adventure story line. Now since this is all pretty far back, I can only hope to remember the good stuff. So today, 13th day of vacation, 3 days left, The BF wanted to take a bike tour. He had looked at the bikes at the rental place the first few days and decided it would be easiest to rent one for a day and do a tour on his own, rather than a guided tour. At the reception we asked for maps and some interesting routes. I don’t know as much about bikes as he does and I’m not fit enough to (nor interested in) doing a mountain-bike tour up steep mountains in 40°C heat. The BF had arranged to get the bike the evening before, so that he could leave very early that morning. In my half-sleep I heard him get up and then at one point realized that both he and the bike were gone. I “slept in” as far as it went, considering the buffet hours, and then got up to go eat alone. Felt very weird.

The route The BF took was supposed to be around 42km long. His first stop was the Arcadi monastery, which is known for a tragic historic event. During the turkish occupation of Crete, about a hundred of men, women and children locked themselves in the ammunition room of the monastery and then blew themselves up because they would rather be dead than slaved. Today you can still see one of the bullets that flew into a nearby tree. The BF had taken my camera with him and showed me all the pictures later. He also stopped at a little pottery village and brought back a serving dish for me. All this time he was riding up and down the winding roads, realizing it would take him much longer and the receptionist had said. Along the way there was a tavern, in the middle of nothing, that was seemingly closed. Then a little old greek man came out and signaled with his hands that they were open and The BF could come in to drink. A little while later a french couple stopped by (yes, them again). They went in without even asking if anything was open, sat down and then, once a young waitress came by, simply ordered “deux cafés au lait”. No hello, no attempt at english, nothing. And these were people who probably only understood greek. The girl went to get a menu and just plopped it in front of them.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, stupid little me came to notice that I had locked my wallet in the safe. The BF and I agreed to meet up at the River beach when he was done, only I needed money to pay for the chairs. The best part? He had the key to the safe with him. Somewhere in the mountains. There was nothing I could do without my wallet. I thought I could try asking the reception if they had a spare key, but all I got was their favorite question: why? Like it mattered, since they didn’t have one anyway. So I stayed inside and waited. In that time I had gotten two different text messages from The BF (luckily I had left my phone out), saying he would be late. And even later. At the end, his legs were killing him and he had run out of water. I was very happy when he returned safe and sound – after about 6 hours.

The rest of the day was spent as usual: lunch at a tavern, lounging on the beach. On our way back from the beach we decided to walk along the sand instead of the roads. This is how we discovered beach number three. It seemed much more official – it even had a lifeguard chair and a sign saying “beginning of beach”! At the entrance were signs explaining different things, for example the meaning of the different colored flags. There were two up on the lifeguards chair and the other day we had seen that they were both red. Now we knew this meant that there wasn’t a lifeguard on duty and that the water was too dangerous to swim. They actually forbid you to swim when the flag is red. Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t try those waves the other day.