Friday, March 28, 2008

Ancient Epidavros, Greece, March 24th

It was with great excitement that we set out this morning, leaving our hostel at 7.30 to catch the local bus to Kissifoss, the intercity bus station in suburban Athens. While we were in Crete, Christos, a couch surfer, had invited us to stay with him in Ancient Epidavros, 140 km by road from Athens. We had already left the mainland and from Crete we had intended to go to the islands of Santarini and Rhodes. So we asked ourselves, “Should we go back to the Greek mainland?” From our reading of Christos’ profile, he seemed a friendly person with a good sense of humour, so we were keen to meet him.

We had been to Epidavros thirty-three years ago and had visited the ancient theatre. We had fond memories of that time and, having read a bit more about the area, we decided to go. Taking opportunities like this is what our sort of travel is all about. The bus took about an hour and twenty minutes to get to Nea (New) Epidavros, where we got out.

Public transport in Greece is excellent. All the buses we have travelled on have been fairly new and clean, with a ticket collector as well as a driver on shorter trips. This is particularly helpful for people who need assistance physically or with knowing where to get off. The prices are cheap – half a Euro for a half hour trip across Athens and €11.40 for a 2 ½ hour trip from Nafplio to Athens. The metro was extended and given an overhaul for the Olympics and is a dream to use. Stations are announced in Greek and English, everything is spotless and at Pireaus station, there is an art gallery of prints of the Port of Pireaus by different artists from different eras.

Christos arrived a few minutes later to pick us up. He is a warm and welcoming person with a twinkle in his eye and a real zest for living and enjoying life. He had actually left his work to collect us. He drove us around his village of Ancient Epidavrous so that we could get our bearings before taking us to his house. After showing us everything and handing over a set of keys, he returned to work and we set about making ourselves at home.

Being able to use a kitchen is a treat. We enjoyed planning for two meals and meeting the ladies in the little supermarket across the street. They gave excellent advice on cheeses for different purposes. Generally we buy cheese on the criterion of price, so we have had a few shockers.

We set off down the street and reached the most idyllic beach after about 100 metres of twists and turns. A perfect half moon bay with a sand edge and beach volley ball court ended in a paved walkway over the rocks. Following it we were led into another tiny bay where a pebbled beach lay at the base of a pine forest. Jade green lizards basked on the path, plants grew to the shoreline and the hill, covered in little walking paths, rose steeply behind. In the water a man snorkelled with a marker attached while some tourist parents and children played and walked together. Enchanting!

Following the shoreline in the other direction we skirted the Hotel Mike and others designed to cater for the summer rush, and came to the sheltered port where a few fishing vessels were tied up. The steep peninsula at the other end of the beach beyond the port hid a small ancient theatre. We set off along a track between the orange groves to find it. The walk was ideal – blue sky, orange blossom perfume, the path easy to follow and the destination reached before doubts about being lost started to arise.

I have previously written about the implications of finding archaeological evidence on your land, but this theatre must have been the extreme case. A pleasant but abandoned house abuts the site and the outdoor oven belonging to it is on the fence line. I don’t know what happened, but I imagine that they were just digging their vegetable garden one day when suddenly their pleasantly sloping back yard revealed itself to be a small (at least 1000 seat!) ancient theatre. What a shock! They nobly reported it even though their first impulse may have been to cover it in compost.

The theatre is currently closed while conservation works are being undertaken, however you can walk around the fence and see it from different angles. It is not quite all revealed, with the track covering some and the land on the other side currently being excavated.

For adventure, we took the track leading through the oranges and olives over the hill. Our eyes were now open to signs of more ruins. There seemed to be low walls or foundations and some carefully cut stones mixed with rough stones in terrace walls. Aha!

Rounding the crest we were hit by a cold gale that forced us to turn back and explore in calmer areas. Eventually we reached another beach at the far end of the village, but the windy conditions made it too unpleasant to walk all the way around it.

We strolled homeward, protected by the walls of the sea front properties and the orange trees. This village is quite spread out longways, but it has the traditional layout of houses very close together and opening straight onto the narrow streets. Christos can drink coffee on his balcony and catch up with his neighbours. Everything is clean and well cared for, with many pots of plants and creepers and vines everywhere. There is a fair bit of accommodation for the summer, but it doesn’t feel like a village in waiting for the season. It is bustling along, with its citizens busy going about their lives in a small community.

After cooking and eating our meal, I caught up on some thank you notes and Keith worked on our photos. Christos had to work until 1 a.m. so we had an early night.


This beach has the back fences of rich people's houses almost in the water.

A lot of plumbing in Greece is above ground. These water pipes for irrigating the olive trees are well and truly above ground.

An excavation site beside the theatre, showing the actual excavation protected by plastic, while an old olive tree is suffering the effects of digging up the past.

The local church is decked out in Greek flags and blue and white crosses in readiness for Greece's National Day tomorrow.

Athens, 23 March

Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails!

Please write to either

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My Greek lessons paid off because I understood Ingrid when she told me that it was eight minutes past five, time to wake up and that it was not freezing outside. She had been woken in the night by me shouting ‘Help!’ during a nightmare, so I was lucky that she was such a friendly and kind soul and had forgiven all by the morning. Keith was not feeling great, having moved at 1 a.m. from the seat to the floor to try to get more comfortable.

We caught the train from the Athens port city of Piraeus and, finding ourselves in familiar territory again, walked down to the Athens Easy Hostel where we had stayed before. We were able go straight to a room – so clean and tidy compared with our last venue – to sleep and relax.

We hadn’t paid for the breakfast, which really belonged to the night we spent on the boat, but the man on the door said to have it anyway.

We sat with a man from Finland who has been in 65 countries and aims, bit by bit, to travel everywhere. He works for the Taiwanese Embassy translating articles into English, which they read and then consider for further translation. He has spent four months in Israel on a missionary course and told us that he attends an international church in Helsinki, hewn out of a rock, which looks a bit like a flying saucer. While Keith was taking advantage of the free breakfast, we chatted about the basic philosophy behind his missionary work. Fundamentally, he sees it as being to serve and to love, inspiring by example, rather than trying to convert people. He tries to live his Christianity and if others ask what it is that motivates him and makes him as he is, then he is happy to talk to them about it. He shares his flat harmoniously with a devout Muslim. He encouraged us to consider going to Finland, enticing us with 25 degree summer days and an enchanting island in a lake in Helsinki, inviting us to get in touch for a get together if we made it there. We invited him to stay with us, which he may do one day since he has not yet been to Australia.

Sometimes we catch up with our children by making a phone call to them using Skype on the computer. It costs nothing to talk from computer to computer and very little to ring a landline. We had a great chat with Holly and her friend Maz, and then spoke to our friend Mark who is setting off on physically challenging travels in Malaysia with his family.

We visited the National Historical Museum, free on Sundays, to learn about the turbulent modern history of Greece. It is in the old Parliament House, which has corridors and rooms around the periphery housing the museum exhibits, and the chamber of parliament in the centre. Today a group of young people were engaged in a debate, which we could see through a glass panel but not hear.

There are paintings and memorabilia from 1453 to WW2. Read the following section in blue if you are interested in details of the history. Jump to the next black bit on this page if you prefer to continue with the summary of our travels.

What follows is my brief summary of what I learnt. Greece had been taken over by the Ottomans, and despite being predominantly organised in communities and chiefdoms, was united in having a common language, the Orthodox religion and common traditions. Greek education and influence from outside was financed and supported by Greek nobles, so there was a strong unifying force developing. The revolution was proclaimed by Alexandros Ysplantis on February 24th 1821, with a solemn oath being sworn by all the chieftans to use arms for the cause. March 25th (now Greek Independence Day) saw the raising of the Independence Flag and blessing of the warriors by Bishop Germanos.

By December a National Assembly met at Epidavros, but then the Pasha of Egypt arrived and turned the tables. One city, Messalongi, was besieged for a year and, when they finally forced a passage out, there were few survivors. International support was whipped up by the Philhellenism movement – groups of intellectuals and lovers of antiquity who made private donations of resources and who volunteered to help. Lord Byron was one who took on the cause; his helmet and sword and other effects being on display in this museum.

His death at Missalongi spurred on more support from outside in what was seen as a fight of civilisation against barbarism. The ‘Great Powers’ of England, France and Russia intervened, telling the Ottomans to cease fire and to grant Greece autonomy. Not surprisingly, the Ottomans said “No thanks!” and a battle ensued, which they lost. Greece was proclaimed autonomous in 1826 under the Great Powers, then independent in 1830, and a Kingdom in 1832. The first king was elected. King Otto was the second son of the Bavarian king, and by 1862 discontent with him saw him leave. An 1843 revolution had resulted in the formation of a constitutional monarchy, so a new king was selected; King George, the second son of the king of Denmark. He ruled form 1863 – 1913. He oversaw involvement in many wars – the Crimean, the Balkan, Greco-Turkish and Cretan struggles. Greek annexations of the Ionian Islands and Thessaly during that time saw Greece nearly double its population and the size of its territories. Dissention over remaining neutral or supporting the Entente of Britain, France and Russia delayed entry into WW1 until 1917. In the carve up after the war, Greece was given Thrace and recognition of her presence in Asia Minor (the Asian part of Turkey). With the Entente’s blessing, Greece went after the Turks in Smyrna but lost, with disastrous results, with the city being burnt and a new Greco/Turkish boundary being drawn. There were forced exchanges of Christian and Muslim populations in many areas.

Several times, Eleftherios Venizelos, the besuited hero represented in many statues, took on the role of prime minister. He led the country during troubled times and managed to introduce modernisation and many reforms.

In 1940 Italy issued Greece with an ultimatum for Greece to hand her land over for strategic positions, but Prime Minister Metaxas rejected it. The Battle of Greece against the Italians and the Germans continued until 1944. Greece’s role of resistance was very important in holding up the enemy and assisting the allies. The history concluded with a display of King George’s treasures and furniture, leaving us with many questions unanswered about modern Greece.

The costume rooms featured traditional wedding and special occasion clothing from different regions and eras. The embroidery and jewellery were stunning. We saw many short jackets for men in this display, and in the revolutionary fighting display, that were completely embroidered in silver or gold. We were trapped in there for a while by a passionate Italian guide who conducted her session with her very intense group in the doorway. That made us look more closely at the fabrics of some of the dresses – beautiful patterned silks that are rarely seen today. On our way out I saw a replica necklace in the museum shop but, since it was 1910 Euros, I admired it and left.

We were too late to visit all the museums on the list Keith had made while I swam about yesterday, so we settled for the Botanical Museum in the nearby National Gardens. Alas, it was not only closed, but with no signs at all, looked as if it had not opened for many years.

From it we could see a surprise - a zoo. This was a very strange zoo. A dog, like any other visitor, was lined up at the fence intently watching the cage with the Kri Kri goats battling each other, a mother and her kid in a little stone igloo, and a large rabbit in it.

The next cage had all kinds of farmyard birds, a bored donkey, three cats and a hundred pigeons, but no roof. A rooster and hens were putting on a dust bath display for the crowd. To the side, an aviary housed two black and white domestic cats, one in a cardboard box and the other standing proudly, but resignedly, on display in the centre.

An aviary for canaries, and another for other birds and budgies, preceded one for fantails and ordinary pigeons. A wild pigeon was visiting, looking in at the captives.

The largest aviary of all held a hotchpotch of farm birds and peahens and peacocks. All four peacocks displayed their tails at once, moving them this way and that for best effect and to catch the light. Only one pea hen showed any interest and that was forced since the peacock trapped her between his tail and the fence.

Eventually we decided that this strange collection might be an animal nursery – most of the inmates were trying to mate, were right now or obviously had mated, with babies imminent in many cases. We ate our lunch and watched the humans as they filed past.

Leaving the dog to his vigil, we set off for an afternoon sleep. We passed a rally in the square with a very big, but unobtrusive police presence. It consisted of only men and there were signs in either Arabic or another similar looking language. Later we learnt that it related to religious rallies in Pakistan.

The streets near our square were lined with dozens of illegal stalls, each consisting of a few items on a ground sheet that can be easily gathered up for escape if the police turn up.

Tea and a sleep over, we have been washing clothes and blogging. We have never been up to the minute in our typing before. My reflection is that it is best to have some time lapse before writing, so that the details have time to prioritise themselves and dim in my memory. Keith has pointed out that most blog readers may not need so much history, so I hope that the colour option has solved that problem for everyone.

The changing of the guards has just finished and these soldiers, now in their summer uniforms are marching down the street back to their barracks.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Agios Nikolaos, Crete, Saturday March 22nd

Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails!

Please write to either

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We packed early in order to make it to the bus station to leave our packs for the day (€2 each) prior to setting off for a jaunt to Agios Nikolaos at 8 am. I had really wanted to visit Spinalonga, the ex-leper colony featured in my book, which is off the coast nearby, but we already knew that that would not be possible due to it being the off season. There was just a tiny possibility that, if we could make it to Plaka, we might be able to find a fisherman willing to take us over. All our hopes were dashed at the Agios Nikolaos bus station where it turned out that there are few buses to anywhere on a Saturday, none to Plaka and the only one to the textile specialising village of Kritsa returned too late for us to travel back to Iraklio in time to catch the ferry to Athens.

We explored Agios Nikolaos, which is a charming town on a promontory with a port, a marina and a lake that joins the sea at a narrow bridge. The water in the lake is very clear so we spent time looking at the exhibits swimming around in this natural aquarium.

Our time there had been confusing, with nothing on our map seeming to be in the right place. We asked for help and discovered that the bus station had been recently built in a new location off the tourist map that we had. We decided to return to the bus station and be sure of where it was so that we would be ok at the end of the day when we had to be there at 5 pm. The whole town is not very big so it was no bother. We found an olive grove complete with goats in the middle of the built up area.

Touching base at the bus station, we set off with renewed confidence and headed off to the Ammouda Municipal beach. The land rises steeply from the shore in the town so there are steps for some streets and the land is terraced to allow for many three and four storey buildings. After a street or two of level land it drops again to fall down to the other side of the promontory. It is obviously a tourist town with currently closed supermarkets, souvenir shops, tavernas and cafes all along the sea front.

Mostly there are rocks right to the water, but in a few spots there is a stretch of beach. At Ammouda, the buildings that in the summer would house cafes and changing rooms for a fee, were deserted. A few English families watched their children play in the water and several people had found rock ledges to sunbake on. I helped myself to a changing room with a broken door and then stepped into the crystal clear water. Ever since we had been paddling at Plakias I was carting my things around in case we found somewhere to swim, but Keith, fully convinced that swimming now would be too cold, had come unprepared.

Once I had acclimatised to the water, I felt totally relaxed since the waves were so gentle, the water was mild compared with Victoria’s ocean beaches, and I was by this stage the only one in swimming. Looking shoreward the town rose like a painting without perspective, up the hill from the beach. Looking out to sea, the details of the small island that was protecting this bay were clear, with a path leading up to a chapel. Beyond that the mountains rose in a blue haze. This would have to be my second best swimming experience ever, the best being at Dalhousie Springs in Central Australia.

Keith was happily enjoying the sunshine reading about Turkey as the time drifted on. Eventually, with fingers starting to prune, I came out to drip before drying, and was approached by an Italian man who said, “You are a courageous woman.” His wife had been in for a little while, so maybe my staying power was impressive.

We strolled along the shoreline, past a shop with the direct and to the point name of ‘Mother Cook’ (closed of course), and on around the point. I still was completely disoriented but luckily Keith knew where we were.

We climbed the steep stairs to a stark little church with its door facing out to sea. Inside it was beautifully decorated, with most icons draped with a shawl of intricate lace work, a trademark of the crafts of this region. People had left many tin tokens, with nearly all of them representing eyes. Eyes were also carved into the woodwork of a chair. We didn’t know whether this church might be dedicated to a saint who cares for eyes – there was no-one to ask and no name displayed for the church.

Our meandering led us finally to a café by the sea where we relaxed for an hour over cappuccinos and water. This felt like a real ‘holiday’ day, with no agenda, a pleasant 25 degrees at 5 o’clock, and the film of salt tightening my skin as we rode the bus back along the coast to Iraklio.

After a picnic tea we collected our packs and set off for the nearby port. We repeated our sleeping arrangements of the previous trip. Unfortunately Keith was directed to an area with Pullman seats, which was ok, but he was near a draughty doorway where late talkers congregated and smoked in spite of the no smoking signs. I shared a cabin with a delightful Greek lady who taught me some words, but my sleep was also disturbed.

Everyone loves trees to be growing on the footpath, ut when the streets are narrow and there's lots of traffic, it's also very difficult to walk on the road!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Iraklio, Crete, Friday 21st March

Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails!

Please write to either

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Our experiences in the countryside had left us pretty keyed up for a visit to the Natural History Museum where we hoped to find out more about the animals, plants and ecosystems of Crete. It has recently moved to a new building and, disappointingly, has not completed setting out its exhibits. Instead of learning about Crete, we went to a visiting exhibition about the biodiversity of Connecticut in America. It was set up in a two storey room with a life size model of an oak which had been hit by lightning. All the creatures that would have lived within the area of the tree were included in a taxidermist’s paradise of a display. The labels had pictures for easy identification. Just as I was about to make some comments (positive) to Keith, the lady beside me commented to her companion that they should check if all the items she had prepared had been included. It turned out that she is a Greek American, working at the Yale-Peabody Museum, who worked with the University of Crete to develop the exhibition. She was concerned about the temperature control since it is possible to smell the exhibits if it is wrong. She is a herpetologist specialising in amphibians and reptiles. She was interested to know about drought conditions in Australia and said that there have been many instances, particularly in reptiles, with the sea snake being an example, of evolution taking a backward step when conditions warranted it. Other land animals may be capable of adaptations that allow them to return to the water if the environment changes over a long period. She commented on the high priority given to environmental science in primary education, with the result that the large areas of wilderness purchased in the Roosevelt years to provide resources are subject to mass protest when the government wants to cash in the resources.

We dropped in for a look at the children’s ‘Discovery Centre’, an excellent interactive area, which allowed children to learn about many aspects of Crete’s environment. A school was visiting and the children were enjoying the activities. Being aimed at children, the labels were in Greek, so we could only look and speculate.

Next stop was the Koules, the Venetian Fortress, which held off the Turks for 22 years in the siege of Iraklio. It was in excellent condition, with intact walls and an upper floor that would have allowed for quick movement of men and arms. A slope led down to chambers that housed large round stones, too big for the cannons on display. They turned out to be the ammunition for the catapaults. The soldiers must have been giant musclemen to have been able to move the balls, which they would have had to roll up a ramp and lift into the catapault. There would be no question about the damage they would have done, with the balls averaging 30 cm in diameter.

It was a short walk to San Marco’s church, which has been transformed into a free art gallery right next to the main square. We could not read the names of the painter and photographers whose work was featured, but we were particularly impressed with some of the photography, which showed people and scenes, mostly from around Crete. There were quite a few people looking at and discussing the pieces.

After a quick spin around the Loggia which, in Venetian times, was a gentlemen’s club and is now the town hall, we continued on towards the city walls. The final free museum was the Battle of Crete Museum which contained a plaque dedicated to the Australian and Greek forces and the local people who gave their lives for Greece, Crete and their city of Iraklion. It contained memorabilia, photos and information about the battle. New things for me were details of the role of the clergy and the involvement of women and children. Without exception the clergy supported the resistance, often at great personal cost. One priest trained as a paratrooper and pilot and assisted the army in spreading intelligence. A monastery hid a radio for nearly the whole course of the war and all the monks were executed when it was finally found. Many monasteries hid people and assisted with evacuations. Women and children played important roles in hiding and feeding people, in taking messages and in producing misleading and false intelligence. Their lives were endangered by their own and other villagers’ actions. Many times whole villages were razed to the ground in retaliation for real or suspected acts. A sole attendant gloomily guarded the display, creating a cloud of smoke which filled the room.

A half hour bus trip and a ten minute walk took us to the Cretaqurium. We seemed to be walking through a deserted industrial estate, where the former inhabitants had had a keen interest in sport and had installed many fine courts and fields, but no interest in their own housing. It was, in fact, a former American Air Force base, which explained why there was an empty guard checkpoint at the start of the road.

We went down to the filthy, rubbish strewn beach to have lunch in the shade of a rusty and dilapidated pavilion – a beach where I hoped to have a swim after viewing the aquarium. Two shepherds drove their flock across the sand in front of us, greeting us in a very friendly way.

What a contrast the aquarium was. It is new and focuses on the marine environments of Crete and the Mediterranean. The creatures live in gigantic tanks at the right light and temperature conditions. We hired an audio guide which was incredibly informative, in a very accessible style. One of us would listen to it and give the other a précis of the information. Every tank was interesting, but there were some particular highlights: the octopus, the moon jelly fish, the apparently empty tank which had almost completely hidden sole fish with just their eyes and tiny holes above the gills giving them away, the rescued turtle with an accompanying film of the rescue and surgery, and some eels that hunt at night and wrap their bodies around their prey. Finally we watched part of a film about life in the oceans, and only realised when the cleaner appeared, that it was past closing time. The two and a half hours had flashed by. We would recommend this aquarium to visitors to Iraklio, for the standard of the care of the creatures, the set up and the focus on the sea life of the Mediterranean.

The attendant advised me against swimming at the beach – it is polluted – and so we set off for the bus stop and our return trip to Iraklio. On the way we saw a mother and daughter picking introduced flowers from an abandoned garden, and later they carried their bouquets proudly past us as we waited for the bus on the roadside.

The evening passed with tea, blogging, checking emails and planning for an early exit in the morning.

A balloon seller in the main square of Iraklio

This motor scooter is half covered in rubbish. Scooters are more common than motor cycles in Crete.

A view of Iraklio from the Venetian fortress. A few very old buildings and sections of buildings can be seen, but the German bombing in WWII destroyed nearly all of this city, robbing it of the sort of medieval beauty and charm that can be found in the old parts of Chania and Rethmyno.

Iraklio, Crete, Thursday March 20

Keith and Christine would love to hear from you with questions, comments, personal news and any news at all from Australia or wherever you are. We will reply to all emails!

Please write to either

windlechristine@gmail.com or

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This morning we visited our favourite museum of all so far. It was the Historical Museum of Crete, situated in a beautiful old Venetian mansion. The first room surveyed the major events in Crete’s history from Byzantine to Turkish rule, with maps, drawings, photos and very readable information. There was an enormous model of Iraklio in Venetian times with buttons to press to light up different buildings. What this museum managed to do was to include detail that brought the major events to life. We were fascinated and took a long time reading and discussing items.

All museums have attendants who must be bored out of their brains, just sitting there or wandering aimlessly around, ensuring that the public behaves. At least in the busy season there may be someone breaking the no flash rule (for photography!) or stealing a Minoan fresco to deal with, but generally it is just the exhibits, the attendant and us. In the Archaeological Museum in Athens when I asked the attendant a question about the construction of the statues he said that he just sits there, and that he doesn’t know about anything. What joy, then, for me and the attendant at this museum in Iraklio, to have a question asked and answered. There were some limitations in our communication because he had limited English, in which some words mean other words eg ‘fire’ meant fight and ‘kaput’ meant killed, but, given eye contact and gestures, we did pretty well with the Byzantines, the etymology of place names around the world and their links to the Greek language and mythology, the Battle of Crete and the resistance fighters, his family’s involvement at that time, and his general feeling that all good things had a Greek origin.

He ushered us into the next room where, by passing a light beam, we activated a slide show of ancient sites with English subtitles and after that stepped into a large room that had stones and carvings from old churches, some of which had featured in the slides. The next room had Venetian coats of arms and a fountain that worked, with water flowing down when you passed it. There were touch screens to find out more about the Venetian buildings and fountains remaining in the city today. This city was devastated by bombing in the 2nd World War – old photos of street scenes we have seen showed rubble and what looked like piles of pick up sticks everywhere – so it has lost many treasures. For all the exhibits there were the same fascinating accounts of life here as well as of the major events. During Venetian rule, there were Venetian nobles and it was decided to have a secondary class of Cretan nobles. Their nobility was conveniently limited and did not extend beyond the shores of Crete, nor into any conflict in a transaction with a Venetian noble.

The next major section was an exhibition about the author, Nikolas Kazantzakis, who was born here in Iraklio in 1883. He was an intellectual, a traveller, a journalist, an activist and a writer. Forced to leave Crete to study because of the revolution against the Turks, he followed a life of living in other countries, meeting prominent figures in the literary and political worlds, and of questioning religion and philosophy. He wrote ‘Odyssey’ which, in verse, presents a modern version of the situations that Odysseus was in. He also wrote ‘The Life and Manners of Alexis Zorbas’ in 1946, which led to the film ‘Zorba the Greek’. He is very famous here and donated all his belongings and notes to this museum. There is a reconstruction of his library and a fascinating chronological account of his life using photos, his papers and letters, posters of the times and actual items that he used. Another section presented art works inspired by Kazantzakis’s literature.

By this stage Keith’s eyes were beginning to glaze over and my back was hurting. We stepped into the next room and it was a bar. We thankfully sank into the chairs and ordered cappuccinos. We thought that it was very sensible to have built in a mid-museum break. Another couple, Bob and Eveleen, were taking a breather too, so we enjoyed a chat before continuing on. They bought land in Rethymno in the 1990s, built there, and live there full time. All their neighbours are Greek, which they enjoy, although they said that there is a great all nations ex-pat group that gets together for social activities at least once a month. The man building next door to them will probably never complete his house because an ancient coin was found on the site and now everything is wrapped up in red tape and archaeological possibilities. They gave us some ideas of interesting places to see around Iraklio and said to get in touch with them if we were ever in Rethymno again. They were in Iraklio for Eveleen’s post surgery treatments at the hospital. Like everyone else, they sang the praises of Crete and of the change to their lives resulting from the move. Their son had travelled to Western Australia and stayed at the Preveli caravan park run by Geoff Edwards, the man who donated the fountain to the Preveli Monastery. In addition Geoff had assisted in organising scholarships for Cretan students. He was certainly a man whose life was touched by the events of 1941, and who recognised his debt to the people of Crete.

A section on the resistance was harrowing, with the resolve and heroism of the people clearly shown. Four screens showed continuous films. The first showed marches, rallies and celebrations for Hitler and the Nazis. The second screen showed BBC archival film of mistreatment of Jews, Cretans and others who were suffering at the hands of the Germans. The third screen showed battle scenes, and the fourth a continuous stream of war graves for all sides. There was a memorial tribute to the 62 Cretan people who were executed at the same time; 12 for their resistance activities and 50 in reprisal for the successful sabotage of the German held airfield at Iraklio. They came from many different walks of life and included the mayor. They all look steadily out of their photos, which were presumably taken at another time, not knowing what lies ahead of them. Some notes to loved ones on the eve of the execution expressed sadness, love and total belief in fighting for freedom as the only possible path to take, whatever the cost.

Climbing the stairs, it was wonderful to have the light relief of the folk section, which featured crafts, clothing, musical instruments, a fully furnished cottage and an amazing photographic record in a slide show on the wall of people in daily activities. The embroidery was exquisite, with one dress being entirely embroidered. In one area it was customary for a man to give his fiancé the engagement present of a knife to wear in her belt, so that she would have the means to fight off other suitors. Special highly decorated breads were baked for weddings and baptisms. Everything was made to last and by hand so each item was valued for aesthetic, practical and personal reasons.

Four hours later, we made it to the museum shop, a farewell to our friendly attendant, and the outside world.

By the time we had something to eat it was too late to go anywhere else on the museums list, as nearly everything closes at 2.30 or 3.00, so we went back to our hostel and I finished reading my book while Keith worked on photos. Later we went out and splurged on two plastic cups and some chocolate milk, socks, cheese and writing paper, since the one I have with hearts on it is not OK to write to the Principal of the school that we visited in Jordan.

I think that it would be interesting to visit Spinalonga, the island featured in my book, so we will find out tomorrow how to get there. I was very disappointed to find out that my novel was in fact a novel, so I need a non-fiction injection on the topic.