Matala to Knossos/Heraklion, Crete

Bestiality isn't a usual topic of my blog posts, but it was the unnatural coupling of King Minos' wife (utilising a hollow wooden cow) with a white bull sent as a gift from Poseidon that gave birth to the monstrous Minotaur, a creature half man, half bull. Having no natural sources of nourishment, the Minotaur devoured humans, and after consulting with the oracle at Delphi, Minos called upon Daedalus to build an elaborate labyrinth beneath his palace at Knossos, just south of Heraklion, to imprison the creature.

After the death of his son at the hands of the Athenians, Minos successfully waged war against them, and in retribution demanded that seven young men and maidens of Athens be brought to his castle annually to be fed to the Minotaur. Athenian Theseus, with the help of MInos' daughter Ariadne, eventually slaughtered the Minotaur in the labyrinth, and led the Athenians who were to be the third sacrifice to safety by retracing his steps courtesy of a ball of string. Sadly in his moment of triumph, Theseus forgot to signal his successful mission on his return to Athens by hoisting a white sail, and his father, believing his son to be dead, hurled himself off a cliff into the sea in sorrow.

With this Greek tragedy strongly in our minds, we make our way to the ancient Minoan palace at Knossos. Would there be any traces of Daedalus' handiwork after 4,000 years?


We peer down reconstructed rooms, but there's no sign or description of a labyrinth - was it all just a myth?


Certainly bulls figure strongly in the frescoes, decorations, and even drinking vessels.


Bull-wrangling was apparently very popular then, with women getting in on the act as well.


If you're wondering why something so old looks so well preserved, with shiny red perfectly formed columns, you have English archeologist Arthur Evans to thank (or condemn and fed to the Minotaur as the case may be).

In his rush to excavate and reconstruct (using concrete) he made a number of assumptions which later archeologists are now questioning. Certainly his work has added to the sense of how the Minoans lived (and they lived very well, including having manually flushed toilets), but having the old and the new juxtaposed detracts from the overall effect. Still worth a visit though, and you can see where the Romans got a lot of their ideas from.

We drop off our little Emo Panda at the airport and catch a bus into town. Like Chania it's a walled city, but sadly the central part of town was badly damaged by German bombing, and has been rebuilt in an ugly "modern" style.


Fortunately the Venetian fort remains.


But apart for some picturesque fishing boats the rest of the town hasn't got a lot going for it.


Motorbikes are everywhere, and it's the best way to get around the narrow streets where cars park haphazardly, frequently jamming them. Most bikes are scooters, but every now and then you'll see big adventure bikes, with BMWs prominent.

We bus to our hotel, Manos Studios, on the cheaper and seedier west side of town. This time we get dropped off at the right place, and after settling in dine locally in a big family restaurant. So big it has a supervised playroom for the kids while Mum and Dad socialise with friends - good idea (and no it wasn't McDonalds)! Dinner was washed down by more gratis Raki, but try as I might I can't develop a taste for the stuff.

Our ferry to Santorini leaves early on Wednesday morning, and we're reliably informed a bus comes past every 15 minutes to take us into town. We arrive at the stop just after 7am, and our stress levels are rising as 7.20 comes and goes. But just on 7.30 it arrives, and we make the Seajet catamaran ferry with time to spare.

It's a bit windy, and the sea is picking up with a fairly heavy swell. Strangely the sun moves from being on the right side of the boat to the left side - then the loud speaker announcement. We're returning to Heraklion due to rough conditions. Bummer! As we leave the boat there is no announcement as to what we should do or when the next sailing is. Joining other angry and confused tourists, we head down to the booking office and rebook for Thursday. Fingers crossed for better weather.

So we have an unplanned day in Heraklion. We meet up with Ronnie and Cheryl from Singapore, and they suggest we try their hotel in town, which while more expensive is perfectly adequate.


We check out the Archaeological Museum. The Minoans certainly had a sense humour - these are drinking vessels!


There's a bizarre modern art exhibition on which we stumble into - lots of fearsome creatures, but surprisingly no Minotaur.

Personally I think the Cretans could get a lot of mileage from the Minotaur story, or perhaps their heritage won't allow them to acknowledge the triumph of the mainland Greeks. That would likely be it - they're a proud people and throughout history have battled invaders, whether mainlanders, Romans, Arabs, Venetians, Turks, or Germans. Fortunately, invading tourists are treated far more hospitably, and we've really enjoyed our time here. Definitely a place to recommend, but come in May if you want to walk the gorges.

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Chania to Matala, Crete

Back in the car now for our trip to Matala on Crete's central south coast.


Wild poppies are flowering everywhere, so being Anzac Day we stop and pick a couple for our journey.


As we head into the hills again the roads become a never-ending succession of 180 degree-plus switchbacks, but before I start dreaming about swooping through them on the Raptor I'm quickly brought back to earth by the road conditions.


Rockfalls are common.


And the local residents definitely have right of way!

The scenery is fantastic, with every arable bit of land supporting either olive plantations or vineyards. Sheep and goats nibble around what's left. The highest mountains in the centre of Crete are still snow-capped even though spring's well advanced now. Not cold though - a temperate 19 degrees typically.


As we hit the south coast we head west for Aradaina, the start of one of the popular gorge walks to the coast. Had we been a few weeks later we would have walked the famous Samaria Gorge further to the west, but time wasn't on our side.

For some reason the locals seem to have a lot of fun using the road signs as targets, and judging by the size of the holes the calibres aren't trivial.


It's a long way to the bottom of the gorge from the rickety little traffic bridge with disintegrating boards that spans it. A stone takes 4.5 seconds to drop, and if I remember my high school physics correctly, that's about 100m (and ignoring air resistance for the purists!).


We head down into the picturesque little town of Hora Sfakia on the south coast. It was here at the end of May 1941 that the last of the British and Anzac troops were evacuated from the German army's advance. A fitting place for a quiet Anzac remembrance.


Lest we forget.


This might not be one of the more interesting photos for some, but I'm intrigued by the use of the interlocking tetrahedronal blocks used to form a breakwater. A nice spot for a picnic lunch too.


On to the little town of Matala nestled in a lovely little bay, where we have our accommodation booked for the night. We go through the standard mantra on arrival. Do you have wifi? What's the password. Will it reach to our room? Is the tap water safe to drink? Is breakfast included? Is your solar hot water boosted by electricity so we can shower in the morning? Yes, ..., no, no, yes, no. Good thing we asked! We shower and head out for dinner in town.


The Romans originally used these caves as burial tombs, but they've long since been ransacked. Hippies took them over in the 60/70s, and apparently Cat Stevens lived here for a while. Now they're just a tourist curiosity and sadly stink of urine from the boozy parties kids now use them for.


Dinner at a beachside cafe as the sun sets over the Libyan Sea rounds out a great day. And yes you can actually see continental Africa from the Cretan hills, but that's as close to Libya as we want to get at the moment.

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Piraeus to Chania, Crete

After our brief flirtation with the Greek mainland we're off to the islands again, this time to Crete - birthplace of Zeus, mightiest of the Greek Gods.


We're on an Anek Lines ferry, and it's a decent size too - similar to the Blue Star ferry you see as we leave Piraeus. You could almost imagine we're on a Mediterranean cruise - but that's not our style. You meet a lot more locals and see a lot more of the country when you travel overland.

Finding George's Niriis Hotel in Chania is a bit of a challenge. We have directions on which buses to take, but with signage in Greek, it being Easter Saturday night, and not knowing what buses go from where when, we're on the verge of hailing a taxi. But intrepid travelers spurn taxis where possible, and we find the bus to take us to the centre of town. Stage 1 complete, now the bus to the hotel. We finally find it, tumble on with our packs, and explain to the driver where we want to be dropped off.

The pin on Google Maps indicates where we want to go, and as the little blue dot indicating our current position gets close, we expect the bus to pull over. It doesn't - the driver is more interested in chatting to his girlfriend than remembering about a couple of tourists. After some frantic shouting he lets us off, and we have a 20 minute backpacking walk to get to the hotel. At least it wasn't raining, and thank goodness for the GPS or we'd have ended up even further away.

George is waiting for us, full of useful information and gives us some maps. He agrees we've done the right thing and hired a car - Crete is pretty much closed over Easter, and bus services are infrequent and costly. After a good night's sleep our hire car arrives on schedule on Sunday morning - a little silver Fiat Panda with registration beginning with IMO. It quickly gets nicknamed Emo.

It's been a while since I've driven a left hand drive car, but the basics of "tight right, loose left" come back quickly. It takes a couple of hours before I'm automatically using my right hand for the gear shift, and no longer indicating turns with the wipers.


We head south into Crete's interior, and the terrain gets incredibly rugged. Photos can't really do it justice - the gorges are rough-hewn and precipitously steep, even the mountain goats have problems as evidenced by the odd carcass on the road.


It's Easter Sunday in Paleochoia on Crete's south west coast, the church bells are ringing, and everyone's warming up for Easter festivities to celebrate Christ's resurrection.


The air is full of the smell of charcoal and roasting meats. Here's looking at ewe, kid (sorry, I couldn't resist that one).


We stop for a picnic lunch at Azogires, where the cascading waters and rock pools are apparently haunted by nereids. This was a popular spot back in hippie times, and it still attracts the odd yoga and meditation group. Certainly a delightful spot.


The gorges running up from the south coast create natural wind funnels, and the Greeks aren't slow to take advantage, with wind farms everywhere.


Back in Chania for the night. It's a nice little town, with alleyways running through the Venetian quarter not dissimilar to Rhodes.


Dinner while being serenaded by traditional Greek music, and washed down by a glass of Raki, the local firewater. Yup, life's pretty good on the road. But there's still lots more of Crete to see.

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Rhodes to Piraeus/Athens

Why are we going to Athens when we want to go to Crete? A good question! Normally we'd just take a direct ferry between the islands, but in the April shoulder season they don't run. Not to worry - it will give us a chance to see a bit of Athens and the Parthenon while in transit.

The ferry doesn't leave till 5pm on Good Friday, giving us a chance to see a bit more of the Old Town.


We continue to be amazed, and continue to recommend Rhodes to anyone who's in the vicinity. Most of the shops are still open, and doing a roaring trade with a couple of cruise ships in town. Fighting our way through the crowds (bloody tourists) we manage to get a bit of shopping done. All will be revealed when we get home!

It's down a little back alley where Pauline makes eye contact with an old Greek woman, dressed all in black, leaning out a high window. They exchange pleasantries in Greek, and in broken English and sign language the old woman goes on to explain that Pauline must be very lucky to have a man who takes her on holiday, while her man has never taken her off Rhodes! I smile, of course.


The previous night I'd had sun-dried octopus for dinner. Now I get a chance to see how it's done.



Last view of Rhodes as we slip out of the Harbour and head north. Luckily we're sailing quite close to the Turkish coast, and we get Internet reception. Handy!

As it's an overnight trip we've booked a cabin and get a good night's sleep, setting the alarm for 5:15am in anticipation of the boat docking in Piraeus as advertised at 5:40pm. We should have rechecked - it doesn't reach port until 8am, and we could have done with the extra sleep. A good trip though - the ferry's five times the size of the one before, and we barely notice the swell.

On arrival we pick up the tickets for our next leg, stash our packs, and hop on the Metro to central Athens. We've only got three hours before we leave for Crete, and there's the Parthenon to see. We follow the signs to the Acropolis, and have nearly circumnavigated the hill before finding the entrance. Heaving with bus tourists, we dread the queues for the €12 each entry fee. A pleasant surprise - admission is free today, and we stroll right in.


Built over 400BC (and before Alexander the Great), the Parthenon is unsurpassed in grace and harmony - lines are tapered to provide visual appeal, and proportions are perfect. If you're wondering where the Doric frieze is above the columns, the Brits nicked most of it in 1801 and carted it off to the British Museum, where the pieces are now named after their thief, the Elgin marbles. Despite being asked nicely by the Greeks, the Brits haven't given them back yet.


Our last view of the sprawling city of Athens before we complete our circumnavigation and return to Piraeus. Just in time for a coffee before we're back on a boat. A shame we couldn't stay longer in Athens - would have been fun to explore the flea market and more of the sights.

Perhaps the only jarring note from our brief excursion was seeing the huge amount of graffiti everywhere. You get the feeling that Athens has a lot of very angry young men, and the authorities have no money or authority to prevent the vandalism or clean it up. Reading the news about the riots nearby, and the austerity measures in place, perhaps it's best we're on our way back to the islands, which appear less troubled than the mainland.

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Marmaris to Rhodes

The crossing to Rhodes is a bit of a challenge. As soon as we're out of the Harbour into the Aegean Sea proper, the wind gets up and the bucket of bolts we're on (optimistically called a ferry) is pitching and rolling in a heavy swell. Pauline goes out of the cabin to view the horizon line and I join her soon after. Sealegs help too.

We chat with a Swiss who's spent most of his time in Turkey. He's intrigued about NZ, kiwis (birds, of the feathered variety), and enjoys practising his English. The National Geographic World Atlas and What Bird NZ iPad apps come into their own!

Assuming I'm technically literate, he explains he's having problems with the new memory card he's bought for his camera. First step change the camera language from Turkish to English, second step format the memory card, third step set the language to German which he prefers, fourth step take a photo! He's ecstatic, and gives me an enthusiastic European kiss on both cheeks. Just goes to show that geeks will soon rule the world.


A couple of stomach-churning hours later we arrive at the picturesque port adjacent to Rhodes Old Town. Customs formalities are a breeze, and we head for Pansion Eleni in the heart of the Jewish Quarter. Yes, they have a nice double room at only €35 per day, and in halting English and German (Schuler Deutsch) we make our requirements known to the landlady, a lovely old Greek woman, completely bald on top.

Suitably settled in we head out for lunch. Traveling is thirsty work, so we settle on a beer - small for Pauline, medium for me.


It's only after they arrive in their elegant boot glasses that we realise that small means 500ml, and medium means a litre! Good thing we're not in any hurry, nor doing any driving in the afternoon.

Wandering the Old Town is a real treat. It's a maze of 2m wide alleys linking a few big squares.


Everywhere you look there's a fortress wall, or a church, or a mosque, or a clock tower, or an arch, or a buttress, or a little peep into a private courtyard. This place is magic - you could wander for hours, stopping off at some of the many cafes for a coffee, or shops for more than just tourist trinkets. And we do.

Wednesday morning sees us with our first problem - the water is only luke warm which makes showering a challenge. Despite the communication barrier we discover the Pansion runs on solar hot water only. Sure enough, our evening shower later was red hot.

We make a more concerted effort to see the sights.


First up we wander up the Avenue of the Knights to their Palace, where the Crusader Knights made their home in the early 14th century, segregated by their seven different languages, but all united by their Grand Master.


The marble statues are amazing, full of emotional intensity.


As are the floor mosaics, with Medusa being a recurring theme. Not a woman you'd want to stumble into in an alley at any time of the day!

On to the Archaeological Museum for more sights, statues, mosaics, and evey imaginable type of bowl and ornament spanning 4,000 years. A lot to take in.


But it wasn't all dry and dusty. The rooftop garden made a nice counterpoint to the exhibits behind their glass cages.


How could you not like this place? No cars, a few bikes to watch out for, but otherwise delightful little alleyways with something new at every turn. By contrast the New Town outside the fortified walls is the pits, full of cars (moving and parked) and no space for pedestrians or cyclists - a bit like central Auckland.

We make the effort to walk around the northern coastline though, but are a bit concerned as the sky darkens overhead. We spot an Illy sign in the distance, and make safety in the cafe as the raindrops turn pregnant and thunder rumbles overhead.


Back on the seaward side of the Old Town we take in another now non-existent Wonder of the Ancient World - the Colossus of Rhodes. Built around 300BC to celebrate victory over a besieging Cypriot army, the Colossus was a 30m high statue of Helios, made primarily from bronze plates. Sadly it only lasted half a century before it was destroyed by an earthquake. All we have in it's place now are a couple of deer, though there are plans to rebuild the Colossus (or something similar) as a tourist attraction. Unfortunately given the €200m cost and the dire straits of the Greek economy, this is likely to be later than sooner.

Thursday, and our last full day in Rhodes sees us heading for Lindos on the south-east coast.


It's a lovely little town with a great beach and spectacular Acropolis atop the hill.


It's a bit of a hike to the top (of course we spurn the donkey rides).


But the views are stunning.


Take care where you step. There are no guard rails, and it's a long way down.

Coffee calls as we head back down the hill, and as per Lonely Planet's recommendation stop off at the Captain's House. More than a caffeine fix, this 400 year old place was once the home of one of Lindos' wealthy ship captains.


The elaborate carvings above the door bring good fortune, while the ropes represent the number of ships owned. The ceilings inside are intricately painted, and attract lots of tourists.

An unseemly jostle for the bus (the Turks do buses better than the Greeks) and we're heading back to Rhodes Old Town. Another good day on the road, capped off by some excellent local food and wine in a nearby restaurant, though we'll have to be careful with costs - it's easy to spend Euros like dollars!

Good Friday morning and church bells ring out across the town. Time for further exploring and a bit of shopping before catching our ferry to Piraeus. Hopefully a better experience than the trip from Turkey!

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Impressions of Turkey and Islam

We love this place! The people are friendly and welcoming, the scenery great, the archaeology brilliant, and travel by bus very easy. Our only regret is not having enough time to see Cappadocia. Next time!

Sure it's a bit untidy, litter-strewn and unkept in places, and Turks smoke like chimneys and drive like there's no tomorrow (especially at pedestrians), but these are minor grievances. And while the ancient architecture is extraordinary, the same can't be said for modern buildings, typically squat, rectangular concrete edifices with little architectural merit. The same problem that afflicts most democracies - minimal cost functionality wins out over expensive yet aesthetically pleasing structures.

Perhaps the only exception is the mosques, where their elegant domes and minarets punctuate the skyline at regular intervals, just as the muezzin's melodic call to prayer regularly punctuates the day. But it's not offensive for non-Muslims, and is perhaps a brief reminder to reaffirm your own faith (or count your blessings) as the case may be.

Having travelled through many Christian and Buddhist countries, I was interested to see what influence Islam had on the Turkish people. In essence, it's relatively minor. Men will generally attend the mosque every Friday, and women generally wear Western dress, sometimes supplemented with a head scarf. No sign of niqabs or burqas here. It seems the Turks have successfully integrated the best of the western world with their faith, resulting in a modern form of Islam that steers away from the perils of a secular society. Progressive Islam if you will. As a result, the people are friendly, hospitable, honest (and good bargainers), and we never felt threatened or concerned for our safety.

As one of the three Abrahamic religions (along with Judaism and Christianity), Islam shares many of the same roots, even recognising Jesus as one of the prophets. It's surprising there's so much antipathy between them given their monotheism, rejection of idols, and a common moral code. In fact you could argue that Islam is the more modern of the three, having come into existence 500 years after Christ's death. It certainly has a progressive moral code, preaching equal rights for women, environmentalism, animal rights, and warning of the dangers of alcohol.

But like any religion it can be subverted by the fundamentalists, extremists, and those with ulterior motives for power and revenge. Unfortunately we have a very biased view of Islam in the west due to media coverage of Al Qaeda and suicide bombers. They and their actions are as representative of Islam as the Spanish Inquisition is of Christianity, yet the ignorant and ill-informed have no trouble lumping them together - witness the abomination of Terry Jones burning the Koran in Florida.

I would argue that the world has nothing to fear from Islam, and so long as there is an acceptance that other faiths have a right to exist to suit the needs of those who choose to believe, all should be able to coexist peacefully, while all transition out of their more archaic practices in the light of scientific reason and fundamental human rights.

Instead of pouring more and more weapons into trouble spots like Afghanistan, an unwinnable war if ever there was one, the West would be better off providing health services, education, and reconstruction, while the Turks could take a lead in showing how their interpretation of Islam can be (slowly) evolved into a 21st century religion.

How's that for a plan?

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Pamukkale to Marmaris

We had a late lunch coming off the travertines so go for a walk before dinner.


It's a really nice little town, but it does have its tourist traps.


We resist the temptation to part with our diminishing stockpile of Turkish Lire and settle for a photo rather than a ride.

On the bus mid-morning on Sunday and we're heading for the Mediterranean. The road down the hill to the coast is memorable not just for the views, but also the corners, including a number of spectacular switchbacks. My thoughts turn to motorcycles, and how great it would be to do a bike tour of Turkey. You'd need an adventure bike though - the roads are in generally poor condition with potholes, undulations, gravel and reconstructions frequent. No place for a GSXR.

I wonder how the team are going with the April track days back home, and take this opportunity to remind them I can actually receive emails!

Interesting being pulled over to a security checkpoint before we hit Marmaris. Police, toting machine guns, collect ID cards from every Turkish passenger and check them for five minutes before we're allowed to proceed. We wouldn't tolerate this level of police intrusion in NZ, but clearly the security situation is different in Turkey. With Syrians to the south, Kurds to the south east bordering Iraq and Iran, Armenia and Georgia to the north east, and the Balkans to the north west, Turkey does have some hotspots in its vicinity. We're lucky in New Zealand that we're surrounded by water, and pleasantly far away from the world's trouble spots.

Marmaris is a nice little spot, with a marina full of flash looking yachts. It's a large, enclosed harbour too - you could assemble a lot of ships in here and they'd be completely invisible from sea. In fact that's just what Lord Nelson did before having a go at the French in 1798.


We have a wander around the waterfront, reconfirm our ferry tickets for tomorrow, and stop for a coffee.

Our Otel Nadir is pretty average, even more so when we find there's no hot water in the morning. We gulp down breakfast and hike the 25 minutes to the ferry terminal past some nice little cafes - this place will be heaving in summer.


A bit of to-ing and fro-ing between ticket booths but we're sorted and saying goodbye to Turkey. I check my email and find Graham has just bought a CBR1000RR - he must have heard my plea for news telepathically before I've even committed this post to the ether.


Next stop is Rhodes!

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