My session at the Social Sciences Conference on Greek Crisis went well. I considered, under the given circumstances of Greece, people would experience significant amount of stress thus all stress related adversities would be on the rise from child neglect if not abuse to alcoholism, domestic violence, and mental illnesses to name a few. My oral paper on childhood adversity and its impact on health was well received and led to lots of discussions. And my hands and bare arms were not covered with blood stain from our early morning black mulberry feast in Micaheli’s village!
Closing the week professionally, I believe I deserve a day on the Samaria Gorge. Although my back and left foot still are not back to normal, I think I can do it. I make arrangements with a touring company discovering that using public transportation or a car will cut short the enjoyment of a variety of exposures that the touring company will provide since I have only this one day to do and complete my visit to the national park. But there are alternatives according to time one may want to devote to this visit. Samaria Gorge, known as the “Farangas” or “Great Gorge” by locals is the longest walkable gorge in Europe, length in the National Park, 13 km, total walk to reach the beach is 16 km. Last time I was in Crete, I wasn’t able to visit it due to late fall flooding. It is in west Crete, in the White Mountains, starting at Xyloskalo (1227 m. above sea level) on the Omalos Plateau and runs down to the seaside village of Agia Roumeli at the Libyan Sea on the south coast of Crete.
Beautiful wild flower at Omalos rest area before reaching the entrance of the national park
One can take public transportation all the way from anywhere in Crete to Omalos through Chania to close to the northern entrance of the park. Walk the 16 km gorge to Agia Roumeli, spend the evening there enjoying their delicious food and the coastal life. Then, in the morning catch the ferryboat to Hora Sfakion, explore the Sfakia panaroma and network of villages and return to Rethymno in the evening. If you decide to drive, you will have to complete the circle over two days to pick it up or hike back the 16 km and this time uphill!. Thus, the 50 euros spent all travel costs covered was well worth it and since the tour guides hang out with their own fellow guides, you don’t really know that you are on a tour throughout the hike until, you are curious about a shack that looks like a snack bar and you peek through the door into the dark interior, your tour guide appears at your shoulder with a “May I help you?”, to let you know sweetly in a whisper that if is the private sleeping quarter of the ranger sitting at the table with her and her colleagues! Oops, sorry.
Our
tour guide is a German woman, probably my age, who came to Crete 28 years ago,
got married and stayed! Has two sons in schooling or done with it. She does
this gorge twice a week in addition to some beach tours and fills her week
doing something she loves to do. Husband is estranged now, we gossip about how
Cretan men may be a bit difficult, having known a few Cretan men as I was
growing up including my close and distant relatives.
Entrance to Samaria National Park
She is fluent in Greek but has an accent I can now clearly differentiate. Our driver is exclusively Greek speaking, gives me chance to use my Greek. When we reach our break stop, we flock into the taverna, to the left is a table loaded with dishes for breakfast. Surely, it turns out to be prepared for the guides and drivers for bringing customers to the taverna as a gift. Exactly the same in Turkey. In fact in larger places, the guides even receive a percentage of the sales, especially in rug stores.
Entrance to Samaria National Park
She is fluent in Greek but has an accent I can now clearly differentiate. Our driver is exclusively Greek speaking, gives me chance to use my Greek. When we reach our break stop, we flock into the taverna, to the left is a table loaded with dishes for breakfast. Surely, it turns out to be prepared for the guides and drivers for bringing customers to the taverna as a gift. Exactly the same in Turkey. In fact in larger places, the guides even receive a percentage of the sales, especially in rug stores.
The
hike starts at the highest point of the gorge obviously. The scenery below
stretching all the way to horizon interrupted by several peaks aligned in a
three dimensional perspective is stunning, breathtaking, spectacular, I don’t
have the adjectives to describe what I am seeing. The high peaks rising in the
distance, one veiled with haze shading its green face, the other closer by with
brighter colors of dark green to gray where its face is barren. They, together
frame the acute angle of the gorge diving deep down toward the earth, vaguely
outlining our path that will take us 5-6 hours to cover. I am delighted with
the view, not so much with the footing, which consists of various sizes of
rocks, stones, pebbles, which sometimes mischievously tumble down under the
foot, creating dangerous and hurtful moments both for my hip and foot that are
not fully healed. That means, I will have to take greater caution.
The
Samaria National Park is reported to be exceptionally rich in plant and
animal life. It is a good thing that the 450 plant species and the animal
habitat are also protected under international law. No wonder our guide tells me not to pick anything when I
come across thyme bushes with a delicious and dizzying smell. I follow the rule, but when I get to the village, I ask a
villager if it is endaksi to pick thyme: Vevea, sure;
Cretans have foraged for
whatever edibles they found in the wild around their settlement, even the
question is absurd to a villager. I pick a bag of
thyme to take to my mother from her motherland Crete, she will love it. As we
walk through the gorge, we do come across come wild goats and birds with blue
wings that have a call very much like the blue jay’s in America.
Oldest olive tree in Crete, according to local rumors, it is 2000 years old
Water
is plenty, the path is lined with multiple fountains that locals used for
centuries, some look like the national park rangers might have built some more in
a make-shift but very natural manner. Our guide is inviting us to fill up our
bottles with the spring water that springs out of every craves, with my
American mind, I am skeptical first, but everybody is doing it, I do as Romans
do when in Rome. The water is deliciously cold and tasty. The locals of the
gorge, especially the natives of the village of Samaria, after which the gorge
is named played a significant role in protecting the allies and partisans
during the WWII and Nazis tortured them big time. The villagers were relocated in 1962 when the gorge was declared a
national park.
Of
all the break points, old Samaria village site is the most comprehensive one,
with multiple standing buildings, renovated and put to use, several for the
rangers, into one of which I was caught peeking, not knowing what it was, and
fortunately not seeing anything I shouldn’t have in the dark. Everybody takes the
opportunity to take a longer rest here since
this is almost halfway. I
learn that the name “Samaria” is derived from the 14th-century church of
Osia Maria (Holy Mary) at the outskirts of the
village, down the road.
Samaria settlement half way into the gorge
We
cross multiple bridges, some actual bridges made by men, some natural made up
of stones and rocks fording the little bit of water at the bottom of the canyon
in places, some made by men by moving stones and rocks to create a
natural-looking bridge. After a while, I grab a tree branch to use as a walking
stick regretting not having brought my walking sticks for only one day of
hiking in Greece. It serves me well and takes off some of the burden from my
back at least.
The fountains in the gorge rearrange the flow of water toward the hiking path
At some point, when I find access to water in the canyon bed, I take off my shoes and rest my feet in the freezing water, which takes me back to the national parks in America, where, I dip my feet into whatever water source I find as often as I can while hiking. It is heaven, no wonder I am an aquarius! I love all juices of life, but water in whatever form, more so…
The fountains in the gorge rearrange the flow of water toward the hiking path
At some point, when I find access to water in the canyon bed, I take off my shoes and rest my feet in the freezing water, which takes me back to the national parks in America, where, I dip my feet into whatever water source I find as often as I can while hiking. It is heaven, no wonder I am an aquarius! I love all juices of life, but water in whatever form, more so…
As we
approach the “Iron Gates” (Sideroportes), the
narrowest point of the gorge, we start seeing people
walking up the gorge. I learn that these are the “lazy way”ers. Doing only the last few kms of the gorge starting in Agia Roumeli, which stretch is
pretty flat. The Iron Gates is indeed an impressive doing of the nature with both walls of the gorge rising up vertically a sheer 350 m above the water bed. Finally,
around 3:30 pm, we are at the exit of the national park, 0.5 a km from which is
the bus stop where we can assume a seated position until Agia Roumeli, I decide
to take the bus, Meki, our guide is already there, she is offered a fresh
squeezed orange juice right away by the little kafennia staff, who is also
running the bus service, I gather.
Fellow hikers build path markers with natural material just like in America, gratefully guys...
Meki tells the gentleman running the bus service my story. The moment she tells him I grew up in Turkey, he turns to me and asks “Where is your burka” in Greek, also demonstrating with his hands. I am appalled with the condescending gesture and expression on his face; Meki senses the tension as well and tries to make it light by telling him about my living in America, almost apologizing for my Turkish background. He is clearly one of the “manga”s as they call them in Greece, macho, full-of-himself type of self-absorbed and nationalist peasant man.
Fellow hikers build path markers with natural material just like in America, gratefully guys...
Meki tells the gentleman running the bus service my story. The moment she tells him I grew up in Turkey, he turns to me and asks “Where is your burka” in Greek, also demonstrating with his hands. I am appalled with the condescending gesture and expression on his face; Meki senses the tension as well and tries to make it light by telling him about my living in America, almost apologizing for my Turkish background. He is clearly one of the “manga”s as they call them in Greece, macho, full-of-himself type of self-absorbed and nationalist peasant man.
Although
I understand his culture, this is almost Sfakia after all, known by their
somewhat roughness, gun oriented culture etc, and his kind exists in every
society, I also can choose who will get my business and this man’s mindset is
not one that I’d like to associate with nor give my business to. I say good bye
to them all and walk the additional 2 km to the beach town. I jump into the
Libyan Sea, we are in the Mediterranean now.
My camera can cover only 2/3 of the height of the cliffs of Samaria at Iron gates
I swim for half an hour in the shade of the huge ferryboat that will take us to Loutro, then to Hora Sfakion in 1.5 hours. The best time of the day, dissolving in the cool waters of the Mediterranean, feeling the rejuvenation in my muscles, devouring the lightness the salt water brings to my body, lying in the water face up meditating, feeling the warm, affectionate caress of the late afternoon sun on my face, forgetting about the “manga” and their presence on earth all over the world… Half an hour of journey to the heavens, now I am ready to devour the zucchini flowers stuffed with rice and Cretan spices at the Frangia Tavern. My waiter, perhaps the owner of the tavern is a middle aged stoic man. I want to order the stuffed zucchini flowers (anthus) and a Greek salad.
I can't resist memorializing my visit to Samaria with this picture
He looks at me with an “Are you crazy, woman with this size of yours to order this much food?” look and declares “That is too much! Tzatziki and stuffed flowers is enough”. I crack up to this typical Cretan honesty and straightforwardness and submit with an “Endaxi, efharisto poli”. Yes indeed, it is the best combination. I must say other than the Cretan salad I had had in Rethymno the first night at 10 pm at that, this becomes my best meal in Crete. I learn that in order to enjoy the hortas that I love, I have to come to Crete somewhere between January and March. Then it would be worth to eat fish, too. Especially to eat the sthamnagaki that I had tired in 2011 and loved thoroughly.
My camera can cover only 2/3 of the height of the cliffs of Samaria at Iron gates
I swim for half an hour in the shade of the huge ferryboat that will take us to Loutro, then to Hora Sfakion in 1.5 hours. The best time of the day, dissolving in the cool waters of the Mediterranean, feeling the rejuvenation in my muscles, devouring the lightness the salt water brings to my body, lying in the water face up meditating, feeling the warm, affectionate caress of the late afternoon sun on my face, forgetting about the “manga” and their presence on earth all over the world… Half an hour of journey to the heavens, now I am ready to devour the zucchini flowers stuffed with rice and Cretan spices at the Frangia Tavern. My waiter, perhaps the owner of the tavern is a middle aged stoic man. I want to order the stuffed zucchini flowers (anthus) and a Greek salad.
I can't resist memorializing my visit to Samaria with this picture
He looks at me with an “Are you crazy, woman with this size of yours to order this much food?” look and declares “That is too much! Tzatziki and stuffed flowers is enough”. I crack up to this typical Cretan honesty and straightforwardness and submit with an “Endaxi, efharisto poli”. Yes indeed, it is the best combination. I must say other than the Cretan salad I had had in Rethymno the first night at 10 pm at that, this becomes my best meal in Crete. I learn that in order to enjoy the hortas that I love, I have to come to Crete somewhere between January and March. Then it would be worth to eat fish, too. Especially to eat the sthamnagaki that I had tired in 2011 and loved thoroughly.
This is where the shoes and socks come off and scorched feet are dipped into healing freezing waters of the gorge, delicious...
The boat ride is phenomenal. The breeze on my face and skin coupled with the friendly warmth of the evening sun feels so good. Loutro and Hora Sfakion are two southern coast villages, almost serving tourists. I wonder where the natives are other than running the restaurants and hotels. It looks like there is a touristic campaign since all buildings we can see from the boat are white washed and wooden trimming is all painted dark blue, the colors of Greek flag? It looks beautiful, but I am attracted more to the unstructured, natural, free spirited, non-commercialized real, native life while traveling rather than this formatted tourist-attracting presentation of self almost imposed upon Greek localities by commerce.
The boat ride is phenomenal. The breeze on my face and skin coupled with the friendly warmth of the evening sun feels so good. Loutro and Hora Sfakion are two southern coast villages, almost serving tourists. I wonder where the natives are other than running the restaurants and hotels. It looks like there is a touristic campaign since all buildings we can see from the boat are white washed and wooden trimming is all painted dark blue, the colors of Greek flag? It looks beautiful, but I am attracted more to the unstructured, natural, free spirited, non-commercialized real, native life while traveling rather than this formatted tourist-attracting presentation of self almost imposed upon Greek localities by commerce.
One
of such natural life style serendipitously presents itself to us as we cover
some road toward inland Sfakia. Costas, our driver picks us up from Hora
Sfakion to complete our circle in Rethymno. As we are passing through one of
the villages of Sfakia, we notice at least 30-40 cars parked alongside the
road. Meki declares “I bet there is a wedding”. Sure enough, the church on the
right is packed with women in wedding attire, men either in black suits or in
black shirts and pants. It looks somewhat like a scene from the Godfather
indeed! Since it is not part of the tour, we get a brief glimpse of the crowd
and move on. Too bad I am not driving my own car, what can we do…
When
we get to Rethymno, all I need is to have an ice cream dinner and go to bed
early. As someone on the internet had warned, my thighs and calves are already
stiff, little do I know that the next several days I will get out of bed with
moans and groans until my muscles warm up to the day’s activities. I am
delighted, though, I go to Meli (which means ice cream in Greek), a a patisserie,
which makes home-made ice cream of at least twenty different flavors, among
other sweets. They do have vanilla with mastika (gum powder from gum tree that
grows in the 12 Islands) and pistachio!
Loutro, another lovely village on the western Libyan Sea coast
When I reach my hotel room, my fitbit registers 35,000 steps, my all-time record on fitbit, alas, my brother Mehmet beats me in the next 24 hours! He has done Uludag (Grand Mountain in Turkey) summit at the same time I was doing Samaria Gorge, his report is 43,000 steps, there is no way I can beat him!
Loutro, another lovely village on the western Libyan Sea coast
When I reach my hotel room, my fitbit registers 35,000 steps, my all-time record on fitbit, alas, my brother Mehmet beats me in the next 24 hours! He has done Uludag (Grand Mountain in Turkey) summit at the same time I was doing Samaria Gorge, his report is 43,000 steps, there is no way I can beat him!
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| Hora Sfakion, entry to the Sfakia land... |
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| Western coves on the Libyan Sea we visited from Agia Roumeli to Hora Sfakion |
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