Messara Plain

Our favourite days on the bike are always in the mountains. There is simply no beating the crispness of the air, the vividness of the landscapes, or the sheer variety of scenery that slides by as you ride. The lowlands have their charm, but they are rarely as richly layered as life in the mountains. And this was exactly our initial reaction when we dropped out of the Psiloriti mountains and onto the Mesara plain to visit the famous wall of Gortys Law and the end point for Zeus's abduction of Europa at the ruins of Gortys. As in any of the more highly touristed areas of the world, the shabby quality of people clamouring half-heartedly for easy tourist bucks prevailed. Agriculture is also much larger scale here. Both cars and life in general seemed a little faster than it should be.

Whenever we hit an area devoted to commercial agriculture we always have a hard time finding a place to sleep. In such places it seems that, at the end of the day, there is no time or space for building the little churches we have grown to love over our months sleeping out of doors in Greece. For one last time we put our faith in the directions of our Anavasi GPS maps program which sent us through barren fields, vineyards, and olive groves to a very well hidden Agios Nikolaos. We shared our new home with a good number of snails and together we enjoyed what was our last night on this trip sleeping under a blanket of Greek inspired constellations.

Behind Rethymno

A few days spent hiding out from the rain in the old quarter of Rethymno allowed us to really savour the strange mix of real and tourist Crete that live together there. I thoroughly enjoyed watching little old kerchiefed ladies, burdened with the days shopping, waddle by disoriented groups of beefy German tourists. Glancing sideways through open dooways while walking the narrow streets of Rethymno one can still catch a glimpse of how the city may have been before mass tourism poured in.

As the clouds cleared out, so did we. Few cars disturbed us as we quietly picked our way through village after village in the mountains behind Rethymno. In spite of Basil's fluent Greek, the locals still insisted on trying out their german on us. One lady, overly concerned with our matrimonial state, proclaimed that we would soon be married. I guess she figured that any halfway normal looking woman following a man around a place like Greece on a bicycle should really be married to the guy. More concerned with where we might sleep, we smiled akwardly and pedalled on. "You'll see!" she hollered after us, "you heard it in Crete and everything you hear in Crete comes true!!"

Losing Mainstream Crete

As the surrounding olive filled hillsides prepared to be harvested, we meandered our way east from Hania and south into the mountains choosing increasingly steeper routes and praying the rain would hold off. As always, the quest for milk was on and Basil wandered in to a few small tavernas with the hopes of finding some. Unfortunately, the region was fresh out of fresh milk. All the sheep were either pregnant or nursing, therefore - no milk. We were surprised and pleased to learn that these guys were so serious about their milk that commercially farmed milk is not even available. One taste of their local cheese would fully and proudly allow you to understand why.

So, off we went with our milk starved kefir to find a place to set up camp and dream of a world just like the one we were already in. A world where the men favour camoflague clothing, drive black pick up trucks, eat salad, and homemade unprocessed sheep's milk yogurt, and where the lady in black who bakes your bread, has a beard, and remembers the days when women did the family's laundry at the water starved fountain you can still barely drink from in the middle of town.

My Favourite Greek Ferry

The walk through Samaria gorge is much talked about, but what you don't hear about is the ferry ride you must take from Agia Roumeli. The mountains are so fierce on this southern stretch of Crete that no roads connect the area to the rest of the island. To make the connection you must ferry either east to Sfakion or west to Paleohora. For me this was the best part. The coastline is completely wild, the colour of the Libian sea is electrifiying, and the ferryboat staff are absolute cowboys.

"So, where do we catch the boat?"

"Down on the beach."

"Okay, thanks."

"No, seriously right from the sand"

I tried to imagine how a ferry the size we would need to carry all the hikers milling aound me would beach in such an angry sea, but the boat pulled in and dropped its ramp on the beach and hundreds of us streamed on to watch the scenery float by. Arriving in Sfakion the ramp yawned open again spitting us rather terrifyingly onto a sea beaten pier.

Stamp through Samaria

Just below the Omalos Plateau in western Crete lies the longest gorge in Europe. Made a national park in 1992 to protect the endangered Kri Kri wild goats, Samaria is 16k long and every day hundreds (up to 3000 on peak days) of visitors tromp through. If you don't fancy a stroll surrounded by sun burned tourists get there first thing or don't go at all. If you like to gloat about your fitness level then this is definitely the place for you! Many people undertake this trail who shouldn't. The path does require good balance, sturdy shoes, and a little bit of endurance.

Scrambling over the dry and nameless river bed, the 300 meter walls of the gorge narrow from 150 to just 3.5 meters apart creating a memorable passage through the "iron gates". The walk ends shortly thereafter at Agia Roumeli where, restaurants, sandy beaches, precipitous cliffs, and your ferry back to civilization awaits.

Hello Hania

2 overnight trips and a day in Athens and we awoke to find ourselves in the beautiful Venetian belle - Hania, Crete.

On an aside, if you're ever touring with your bike and gear and you find yourselves stuck in Piraeus for the day. Check your bike into one of the many secure parking garages. You can't take your bike onto the public transit and cycling in Athens is just tiresome, but for 12 E you can be comfortably unencumbered and confident that your worldly possessions and beloved bicycle are safe. The only folks with access to your stuff are the parking attendants.

The three main big cities in Crete are Hania, Rethymno, and Iraklio. All three are bursting with the worst kind of tourism. Iraklio is a must see as she is home to Knossos. Hania, however, is the belle of the ball. Visually stunning, tasty, and full of interesting and varied shops. But Rethymno...Rethymno wears a tourist mask, but one turn off the main corridor hobbles an old lady dressed in black carrying florina peppers, fresh bread and butchered lamb from her local shops. The old quarter is still very much alive and in between the tourist tripe you'll still find the local butcher, cheese maker, and fruit and veg shop. Rethymno touts itself as bike friendly as well. This means: keep your eyes on your bike! Apparently bike theft is hot here.

M.C. Escher meets Dr Seuss

Once upon a time M.C. Escher and Dr Seuss got together and decided to build a stairway up the side of a cliff that led to a delightful waterfall in Potami on Samos Island in Greece. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but seriously that's the only way to explain how this staircase came to and continues to be - it bafflingly defies all odds. The great thing is that it isn't even the main event! The main event is playing in the pools of magical Potami.

It's worth the ride to Manolates

Through the Valley of the Nightingales and up the mountain from Agios Konstantinos is a village filled with pottery, quaint cottages, and delicious grub. To say "up the mountain" really doesn't do justice to this ride. The forest is every level of green and life teems all around you. It feels more like the backdrop of a fairy tale than it does a Greek island. The road switchbacks severely and climbs at an angle that is definitely inappropriate for a FULLY loaded bike tourist. The only thing that kept me going was the desire to see what the forest could do next and as rewarding as the forest was the true reward was in the gem that lay at the end of the road - the village of Manolates. It was worth the climb and I'd do it again - shhh don't tell Basil.

Grape Harvest

The vines are heavy with grapes, the smell of fermentation is in the air, Greece is busily producing this years harvest of tasty wines. Samena Golden is the pride and joy of Samos. It continually graced my glass and will be sorely missed on future dinner tables.

Ride around Kerkes

The best paved road in Samos takes you to Drakei. Rising up from the beach at Limionas the road winds steadily up the side of Mt. Kerkes. At pretty St Nicolas church the ride turns drastically to offer up breathtaking views of Fourni Islands and Ikaria and some of the most isolated and rewarding traffic free pavement on the island. Passing through Kalithea the road rolls through beautiful thick pine forests that bend over the road and fill your lungs with deliciously clean air. My only lament is that this road should go on forever, but of course it doesn't- it ends abruptly in Drakei. The good news is that the ride back is twice as lovely especially when accompanied by an overnight in the pine forest - you might even hear some jackals.

Call of the Wild

Finally off to do some extended exploring around Samos by bicycle our first night found us tucked away from civilization under the above rock. So well tucked away were we that we went completely undetected by the pack of jackals that couldn't resist the hypnotic call of the waxing moon. Startled by their unearthly crooning some 10 meters from our feet, we both sat straight up unsure of what we should be feeling...danger, awe, honour.

Blamed for attacks on livestock, the golden jackal has been hunted to near extinction in most of Greece, but they are still heard and occasionally even seen in Samos. Unfortunately, the startled sounds of well-equipped Canadians jolted out of a dead slumber is even more scary than a pack of baying jackals and so our jackal friends scurried away as smoothly as they gave in to their call of the wild. In the end what we felt was deep regret that we didn't catch a glimpse of these increasingly rare critters that were so unwittingly close to us.

Distant Arki

Sometimes you just need to get away from it all, and, if you do, you can hideaway in a solitary place like Arki afloat in the chain of islands known as the Dodecanese. With 3 restaurants, 41 local residents, and perhaps as many trees, there is little to occupy your time except clambering around the goat paths, swimming in the perfectly untouristed waters, and eating at Nicolaos Taverna. I highly recommend all three.