Travels through the lazy villages of Crete
By Chris Deliso
"Keep your eye on her," whispers the villager, leaning over to me, "she's a crafty one."
The tiny old woman, dressed in a long black hooded dress, and leaning heavily on a cane, is approaching the center of the sleepy village of Myrthios, nestled in the mountains of southern Crete. It's hard to tell if she is even moving at all, so slow is her approach. "You think she'll make it?" I ask, incredulous. Somehow, defying all the obstacles-age, infirmity and the common automobile-the 107 year-old widow of Myrthios reaches the doorway of the village's one market. She pauses on the threshold long enough to shout something incomprehensible to the proprietor, who shouts back, "get the hell out of the doorway! You're blocking the door from the customers!" The old woman shakily finds a seat and starts fingering the loaves of freshly-baked bread.
"You know what she does?" says my Greek confidante. "She walks down here in the morning, buys a loaf of bread, and shouts at Georgia (the shop-owner). Then she goes back home and puts the bread on the windowsill. And then at five o'clock she comes down again, with the bread, and complains that it's stale and that she wants a new one." As I let the terrible ramifications of this diabolical plot sink in, the silence is broken by the abrasive amplified shouting of the vegetable man, bearing down on us with his pick-up truck and a megaphone. Soon the little road is filled with elderly villagers snatching up peppers and tomatoes fresh from the fields of Tymbaki, 35 miles to the east. As the vegetable man adjusts his scales and pitches his wares, the 107 year-old widow of Myrthios is left inside, left to whatever memories she can still grasp from her inordinately long life.
Such scenes were common for me during the year I lived in Crete, the largest and most rugged of the Greek islands, covered with mountains, rocky gorges, and endless olive groves (some 25 million olive trees in all). It takes about seven hours to drive across Crete from east to west on the main highway, and while it is never more than three hours from north to south, the treacherous mountain roads can make it seem much longer. The countryside is littered with relics from Crete's long and storied past: ancient Minoan sites (like the famous palace of Knossos), Roman temples, Byzantine castles and Venetian arsenals. Almost everywhere you go, in fact, you'll find some trace of the various major civilizations that have left their mark on Crete during the past 3,000 years.
Such archaeological richness makes Crete a great place for those interested in history and classics; inevitably, however, you will be drawn (like everyone else who visits) to the long, sandy beaches, and soon you will be enticed by Crete's famous nightlife. During the summer, which goes basically from May until October, life is lived outdoors- on beaches, in cafes in the shade of a plane tree, in restarants hugging a clifftop. The Cretan is definitely a nocturnal animal, and you'll have to get used to eating dinner closer to midnight, and staying up late to go out. Despite the constant heat of summer, Cretans are very fashion conscious- you'll never catch them wearing shorts, and many people, young and old alike, wear all black. Like elsewhere in Europe, mobile phones are everywhere, and there are even a handful of internet cafes.
Unquestionably, life in Crete has changed tremendously over the last 107 years (when the island was still under the control of the Ottoman Empire). The advancement of technology, the devastation of the second World War, and growing urbanization have all left their mark on Cretan society. Its capital, Heraklio, is a modern city of 250,000 people, the fifth largest in Greece. Yet in many parts of the island, the old way of life still continues.
"Cretans," pronounced my friend Panos, from Athens, "are a little bit crazy... they carry guns, you know, street justice, gangsta style." This view, held by sophisticated Greeks from the mainland, is only a stereotype-one of a socially backwards, gun-toting and rebellious people (similar to the idea of the 'redneck' in America)- but it is a famous one. the Cretans even believe it, to some extent. "My grandmother," said my friend Maria, from a village far in the east of Crete, "doesn't like the West Crete people. She says they're all goat-thieves and murderers, and they all carry guns. And the West Crete people, they think we are all soft and lazy, and we go to school too much."
There is some truth to this. Most of the students in Crete's two universities come from central or eastern Crete, which has historically been more affluent and more willing to acquiesce to the desires of their overlords. The southwest of Crete, however, with its huge mountains, gorges, and inaccessible seacoast, has traditionally been a stronghold for rebels. During the past 800 years, Crete has been ruled by foreigners twice- by the Venetians from 1204-1669, followed by the Turks, who were not repelled until 1898. Though the relatively easy terrain of the north and east allowed the invaders easy control, the harsh and rugged southwest was never completely subjugated, and was the area from which most rebellions came. It is even said that the people of Sfakia in the south are direct descendents of the ancient Dorians, because their tall frames, facial structure and blond hair make them appear different from the majority of Cretans. Their local dialect even contains many words completely unknown to the rest of the Greek world. This is also the region of the island most famous for vendettas between families, lasting sometimes for generations (though not so frequent anymore). In any case, the popular conception of the Western Cretan- proud, insular, unpredictable, armed-still holds true to an extent. And though you may be received a bit gruffly (especially if you don't speak any Greek), it is no reason not to visit the most spectacular and isolated region of Crete.
The mountain village of Lakki is a good place to start. You get to Lakki by following the main road south from Chania (in the northwest of Crete), for about 35 minutes. With magnificent views of mountain chasms and far-off church domes, and an outdoor cafe draped with dazzling red clusters of bougainvilla, the village is a great place to stop and have a coffee on the treacherous road to Omalos, from where the descent into the Samaria Gorge begins, at 16 kilometers the longest gorge in Europe. When I hiked it, under a broiling August sun, it took about six hours to reach the bottom, passing through steep defiles and extremely narrow canyon passes before finally reaching the cool relief of the Lybian Sea. If you are put off by the thought of a strenuous hike in the summer heat, but are still up for adventure, continue past the village of Omalos on the south road to Sougia and Palaeochora. This is perhaps the most audacious road in all of Crete, leaping, plummeting, twisting, turning, sometimes paved, sometimes gravel, and always captivating, with its breathtaking views of the mountainous Cretan wilderness, and forgotten Byzantine churches tucked away behind the trees.
On the other side of Crete-the east-the landscape is different, but I loved it just as much when I visited. Here, on the lofty Lassithi Plateau, an almost New England forest stretches through some of Crete's best agricultural land. In Lassithi's main village, Tzermiado, I saw tomatoes and homemade blankets hanging out in the sun, and a bonneted old woman driving a herd of goats with a switch. The east of Crete has an air of plenty, of bucolic serenity, that seems to prove my friend Maria's thesis about the differing Cretan temperaments. Here the land is less rocky, the people more friendly, the weather and customs more mild. Lassithi is famous for its old cloth-sail windmills, and the cave of Zeus, where the chief of the Olympians was born. Tzermiado, at the direct center of the plateau, is a beautiful, faded town of decaying white-plastered houses overrun with wildflowers, and crooked, dusty streets. Travelling here on the winding mountain road from Mochos, you pass the small Byzantine monastery of Panagia Kera (generally open 8 a.m.-2 p.m.), and are treated to numerous excellent views of the Sea of Crete far off on the northern horizon. Continuing from Tzermiado, the jagged road eventually descends at Neapoli. From here it's a short drive on the national road to Exo Lakonia (also called Panagia), a tiny village with one outstanding quality- its food.
Although excellent, home-cooked food is pretty much a sure bet in most Cretan villages, Exo Lakonia takes the cake. You can't miss its one taverna, with its enormous bunches of red flowers hanging over multi-colored plastic chairs outside the kitchen, and old men passing the time playing backgammon and sipping Greek coffee. I went here last with a Greek friend from another part of Greece, and some of the special local appetizers were new not just to me but to her also. This is not a place where you ask to see the menu; the waiter just rattles off a list of what they have. As we found ourselves saying 'we'll have one of those, and one of those, and…', it became clear that we were in for the business. Determined to try everything, we received twelve plates of local appetizers, which included dolmades (stuffed wrapped vine leaves), keftedes (Cretan meatballs), and the ubiquitous tyropites (fried cheese pies), along with some indescribable vegetable dishes whose names have escaped me. We also had souvlaki (skewered pork), drinks and desserts. The total bill was about $13. In a larger, more touristy town it would easily have been twice that, for less tasty and less authentic food.
Although all of Greece has its different attractions, the villages of Crete are really the way to go, if you are looking for a blend of natural beauty, excellent local food, and history. Amazingly enough, from any urbanized area in Crete it is only a fifteen minute drive to get out in the middle of nowhere, to villages where life goes on pretty much the same as it has for centuries. Sure, the younger generation has discovered the Internet and Levi's; but, as Maria tells me, "there are still some elderly people in the villages who have lived their whole lives, never left their village, and have never seen the sea…."Amazing, huh?"