The Power of Myth
Crete
If you have ever wanted to go to Crete as a holiday destination, I urge you to go. I cannot vouch for the resorts, and it might not be the best place for children, but for relatively unburdened people it is spectacular. The independence and hospitality of the people shine through the typical veil that covers the indigenous population when dealing with outsiders. The countryside is diverse and stunning. The culture effectively reflects its very ancient history and the various cultures that have infused Crete with their icons as well. African, Arab, Greek, and Venetian, but also the core Crete peoples, descended possibly from the Minoans, the epitome of civilisation five thousand years ago.
R and I has highlights and hi's and lows. The trip emotionally can be characterised like a see saw. Everything was fine as we landed into Crete. Our rental car pulled up. I noticed that the man was very unfriendly, not even offering to help us with our bags. Humph! I almost got lippy. But then looked into the petit vehicle, and noticed something that made me even more unhappy. We were given a manual, not automatic car. Then R realised that she left the entire envelope from the travel agency on the plane. Not good.
Eventually, whilst she was yelling on the phone, I canvassed the agencies at the tiny Hiraklion airport, and found one automatic car available. For hire at an exorbitant price. When we were already supposed to have paid for one. Thank you Amex. So several hours later, we were driving on the dark, poorly signed, let me repeat poorly lit, roads into a village supposedly 2 hours away. Try three.
I must stop here; I am being overwhelmed my memories strongly imbued with the scents of the wild herbs and olive trees, and the sea. The first night I was back I was cognizant of missing the goat bells and peppered dog barks. In the future I want to document the three fantastic meals that I had whilst there, describe the key meeting of the Musicians, and how they dedicated a song to us at the village concert, went to secret beaches, made the best vinaigrette ever out of Cretan Diet olive oil and lemons from the tree outside my door, almost died crossing the island on the little roads carved into the mountains, was hit on by a Serbian army captain whilst he made us flaming honey&vodka shots, became blonde and tan.
If you have ever wanted to go to Crete as a holiday destination, I urge you to go. I cannot vouch for the resorts, and it might not be the best place for children, but for relatively unburdened people it is spectacular. The independence and hospitality of the people shine through the typical veil that covers the indigenous population when dealing with outsiders. The countryside is diverse and stunning. The culture effectively reflects its very ancient history and the various cultures that have infused Crete with their icons as well. African, Arab, Greek, and Venetian, but also the core Crete peoples, descended possibly from the Minoans, the epitome of civilisation five thousand years ago.
R and I has highlights and hi's and lows. The trip emotionally can be characterised like a see saw. Everything was fine as we landed into Crete. Our rental car pulled up. I noticed that the man was very unfriendly, not even offering to help us with our bags. Humph! I almost got lippy. But then looked into the petit vehicle, and noticed something that made me even more unhappy. We were given a manual, not automatic car. Then R realised that she left the entire envelope from the travel agency on the plane. Not good.
Eventually, whilst she was yelling on the phone, I canvassed the agencies at the tiny Hiraklion airport, and found one automatic car available. For hire at an exorbitant price. When we were already supposed to have paid for one. Thank you Amex. So several hours later, we were driving on the dark, poorly signed, let me repeat poorly lit, roads into a village supposedly 2 hours away. Try three.
I must stop here; I am being overwhelmed my memories strongly imbued with the scents of the wild herbs and olive trees, and the sea. The first night I was back I was cognizant of missing the goat bells and peppered dog barks. In the future I want to document the three fantastic meals that I had whilst there, describe the key meeting of the Musicians, and how they dedicated a song to us at the village concert, went to secret beaches, made the best vinaigrette ever out of Cretan Diet olive oil and lemons from the tree outside my door, almost died crossing the island on the little roads carved into the mountains, was hit on by a Serbian army captain whilst he made us flaming honey&vodka shots, became blonde and tan.
posted by miss goLondon at 4:57 PM
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