Last days out

I seem to have forgotten to publish this issue - sorry!

Thursday 6^th November

Yiannis had predicted another hot day and for once a local person was right.  Late in the morning we set off for Rethymno but found the traffic was much busier than on the same day last week.  Even parking on the harbour top was not that easy as several cars had their nose pointed inwards around the roundabout.  We found a space close to the ‘Dolphin’ sculpture so at least we can find it on our return.  

Thursday is market day and so we wondered around all the stalls admiring the curtain material which is so much nicer than that available locally at home,  I saw a pair of sandals last week and decided I would get them this week if the man still had them.  The price stated ‘Last week of sale 15 euros’.  I wondered how much they would be this week then!  They didn’t have my size on display and I remembered they were only 10 euros last week.  In the fruit and veg section we bought a kilo of mandarin oranges even though I only wanted half a kilo but they were only 1 euro so the man only sold them in kilos.   We wanted to find a book shop to buy a copy of a digital road atlas that one of Maria’s guests had left for their next visit but despite visiting several shops we couldn’t find a copy. Lunch was taken in the raki bar ‘Messostrati’ and then it was back to the car and home to Plakias. 

We paid a visit to the new wet fish shop and met the fisherman himself who was an oldish looking man who spoke excellent English.  When we said we wanted fish for the oven he disappeared into the walk in fridge and returned with a box containing a fresh swordfish.  We asked for 4 steaks and were pleasantly surprised that they cost only 5 euros.  A great night in playing cards, whilst listening to music DVDs until the early hours.

Friday 7^th November

Julia fancied a run to Chora Sfakion, a small place along the coast which we visited with them last year, but when I said how long it would take to drive there she changed her mind. 

I suggested she and Ian climb up Timeos Stavros to visit the church. It would be good exercise seeing as how they would be travelling all day tomorrow.  That was too much!  So my next suggestion was to walk to the church at the beginning of Frati Gorge which was accepted with enthusiasm.  Picnic packed we drove down the Previli road parking by the Venetian bridge where we were welcomed by the geese and cats wandering around the stream and small pond.  Ignoring them we set off along the track that lead to the church.  A flock of sheep were sheltering from the heat under the shade of a large carob tree growing by the church.  The aloni, a stone lined sunken circle that was used for grinding the corn years ago, was now being used for the sheep, the floor being strewn with smelly grass and hay and a couple of feeding troughs set in the centre of the circle.  So we would not be stopping for our lunch here today.  We continued along the track passing the home of some Dutch people with a couple of large wigwams placed on their land. We hoped to get into an olive grove where there is a little house with a lovely orange tree beside the door but nets had been laid behind a wire fence and so we felt we could not intrude any further. 

“What about the seat at the beginning of Kourtaliotis Ravine?”  A good place for our picnic – yes.  After we had eaten Keith returned to the car whilst the rest of us went down to visit the Church of St. Nicholas in the bottom of the Ravine. A workman was laying a new floor around the outside of the Church whilst further along a couple more were building walls, so high it was difficult to see the 5 waterfalls that fall down the cliff face into a  pool.  We couldn’t lean over as the cement was still wet.  

Climbing back up the steps Ian took off along a track whilst Julia and I returned to join Keith in the car. Keith had walked along the road to a section where a few days ago a large amount of sand had been deposited.  He discovered a length of black pipe to which an upturned road cone had been inserted in the end, the top being cut off the cone.  The men had shovelled the sand into the cone which went all the way down to the bottom of the Ravine.  I told him we couldn’t get to the water’s edge because of the large pile of sand and flat rocks sliding down the mountainside where the men were building the walls. We never cease to be amazed at the uses for some of the items in Crete! We drove to a suitable stopping area at the entrance to the Ravine and watched for Ian to come along.  He seemed to take ages but we discovered he had made a detour down into the bottom of the valley where a gazebo has been built.  He said someone had cut pieces of wood out of the seating, and there was a bag of cement if we knew anyone who wanted some. 

Back at home we played boules with Lambros, Keith being the referee before going up to ‘Kastro’.