Iraklio, Crete, Thursday March 20

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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 2^nd 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.